There’s no finer dining than Marisol
   
    From the beginning, I have considered chef-proprietor Stephen Schneider one of the most talented restaurants in our area.  But in the early days, I thought he needed the services of a good editor, just as any precocious talent benefits from constructive reflection.
    Through the years, his imagination has remained fertile, while his conception of what people enjoy (which is not always in harmony with what brilliant chefs create) has been refined.  I think he is, figuratively speaking, at the top of his game now.  As a matter of fact, during these meals, I thought he was at the top of everybody’s game.
    The name Marisol comes from a blend of sea and sunlight.  The restaurant’s motto, “Live, Love, Eat” is reflected in every aspect of the experience.  Seating in the main dining area creates a café’ ambience.  When full, however, noise is a problem, although not as much as in common in our area.  A separate piano bar with leather sofa seating rounds out one of the most romantic and sophisticated looks in the Triad.
    Just as you will have to do when you visit Marisol, let’s deal with price at the outset.  This is the most expensive restaurant in the Triad.  But on balance, for what you get, I considered value reasonable.  No matter what I visit, so plenty of people must be willing to pay these prices.
    The wine list, for example, contains some expensive selections, but even at the lowest end, you can’t choose a bad wine, and I would estimate that markups are lower than most lower-priced lists.  I would add that there are upper-end items here that are seldom, if ever, available anywhere else.  The wine list had to be recognized repeatedly by the Wine Spectator magazine.
    One visit began with an amuse bouche (gratis) of smoked clams, fresh cilantro and onions, surrounded by a passion fruit and blood orange vinaigrette.  Another prelude was asparagus soup with shaved perigord truffles and smoke clams.
    The printed menu lists first courses only.  I often order calamari during reviews because it reveals so much about the kitchen’s technique and attention to detail.  Marisol’s Flash Fried Calamari ($12) turned out the most turned out the most tender and flavorful of any I have tried, their taste sharpened by a salad of julienned cucumber, daikon radish, Granny Smith apple and fresh basil, flanked by a sambal (a Vietnamese pepper) aioli.
    The main ingredient in Sauteed Foie Gras Club ($25) virtually melted upon the bite, excluding rich duck liver flavor, enhanced by oven roasted Roma tomato and prosciutto, presented on toasted brioche.  If there is a more richly rewarding preliminary experience in the Triad, I haven’t found it.
    The most startling starter was grilled caesar salad ($12).  A whole head of Romaine had been slightly charred, then combined with shaved parmigiano-reggiano cheese, dashed with and topped with flash fried oysters, sauced with a horse radish bearnaise aioli.
       I always describe bread.  I seldom compliment it.  Marisols's whole wheat sourdough with black mission figs and walnuts, parmesan-onion focaccia and hard Italian rolls all deserve praise, as does the richly flavored butter the restaurant serves.  I swear, you can smell the aroma of that butter from the table.
      Servers recite entree descriptions orally.  Most seafood cost $35, a few $38; meats are $38. The servers are deeply knowledgeable about the food, and they are astute at making wine recommendations, as well.  The staff here is remarkably stable; I see the same faces I saw years ago, and, to be candid, they know me, too.
    Although a salad is not included, each entree is part of a complete conception that includes a composition of vegetable portions, On one visit, baby green beans, yellow squash, broccoli rabe, carrot, zucchini and tomatoes had been given a classic French treatment.  The presentation was stacked over a mound of mashed sweet potatoes.  On another, braised baby fennel bulb sweet potatoes, asparagus, carrots, organic kale and beet greens with applewood-smoked bacon and apple cider joined small cuts of yellow squash and zucchini in a colorful presentation that yielded a wonderful interplay of textures and flavors, all of which married well with the entree's main ingredient.
    Red Drum $35 was pan seared, then roasted, served with golden chanterelle mushrooms, Madras curry and goat cheese in white wine and chicken stock reduction.  Chilled jumbo lump crabmeat perched on top.  A nest of micro greens lightly covered Pan-Seared Tiger Paw Scallops ($38), enhanced by a strained fried shallot balsamic glaze.
    Corvina ($35) a soft, white fleshed fish, was pan-seared then pan roasted .  The fish bore just a hint of crust, perfectly cooked.  Micro greens and seared prawns completed the composition, with flavors extended by a kaffir lime leaf and tomato white wine lobster stock reduction.  Blackened Yellow Fin Tuna ($35) arrived in a robust arrangement of shiitake mushrooms, sage abd pabcetta, in a white wine chicken stock reduction with a touch of cream, served over crab hash.  Monkfish ($35) a firm fish, was lightly dusted with seasoned flour and slow roasted, then finished with Dijon mustard and basil butter.
    Grilled Colorado Rack of Lamb ($38) had been supplemented by dried French sausage and roasted garlic, in a red wine veal stock reduction seasoned with oregano.  Stilton cheese added richness to the already deep flavor of a grilled Angus Bone-in Beef Tenderloin ($38), resting in port wine veal stock reduction.
    Desserts cost $10.  My party tried a Pineapple-Ginger Clafouti-kind of an elegant pancake-with coca-hazelnut ice cream, as well as traditional Creme Brulee and Chocolate Pot de Creme with orange Madeleine cookies and candied pecans.  Although my friends were characteristically cooperative in sharing, I noted that everyone tended to harbor as many bites as possible.
    Or consider an alternative, a cheese course ($5/serving) which I have grown to prefer over sweets.  I selected Big Wood Blue from Shepard's Way Farm in Minnesota and garrotxa from the Catalonia region of Spain.  These were served with toast of sourdough bread, plus walnut and plum butter.
    Marisol's combination of restaurant and piano bar represents the most complete fine dining experience in the Triad.  To the artist's creativity, the restaurant's staff has now learned how to maintain accessibility, that magic ingredient.
    Steve schneider trained at Johnson and Wales.  He is assisted in the kitchen by Robin Gwynn a GTCC culinary graduate, and Alfio Gulisano, who trained in Argentina.  Scott Boyd is lead waiter on the floor.

John Batchelor is a freelance contributor who has been reviewing restaurant for more than 20 years.