Tater Tot S.
Yelp
One finds, in the increasingly homogenized landscape of suburban dining, a most improbable delight in the form of Lebanese Taverna at Tysons Corner. I went for lunch with a very good friend--a midday repast often resigned to the tyranny of speed and indifference--but what we encountered was a composition of refinement that belied the hour.
We entered without reservation, quite literally, and were met not by chaos nor delay, but rather a seamless reception that suggested either uncanny luck or a rigorously managed operation. The interior, to speak plainly, is handsomely appointed--its cleanliness conspicuous, its lighting a masterstroke of balance. Not dim to the point of mystery, nor glaring in its declaration. One is neither flattered nor blinded, merely situated--comfortably--within it.
The ambiance is undeniably upscale. But not ostentatiously so. It breathes the cultivated air of a place that knows what it is, and more importantly, what it is not. One notes with appreciation the music, present yet unobtrusive, allowing the rare luxury of conversation unmarred by acoustic violence.
Now to service--a topic so often the undoing of even the most promising establishments. Here, however, one must allow oneself a moment of commendation. The staff operated with a vigilance bordering on the clairvoyant. A mere glance in the server's direction sufficed to summon their attention, at which point water, bread, or assistance of any culinary variety appeared as though conjured.
And they were not automatons of politeness, mind you, but rather informed stewards of their culinary patrimony. Our inquiries--sincere if modest--were met with fluency and, dare I say, pride.
To matters gustatory. We began with the Hommus Trio--a modest nomenclature for a triumvirate of flavor that would not have been out of place in a Levantine banquet. Each preparation was distinct yet harmonious, a trifecta of texture and taste. For the main course, I elected the LT Burger, which I approached with anticipation and departed from with admiration. It was, in the full sense of the term, perfect.
Beverage service consisted only of sparkling water--a choice not borne of austerity but preference--and even in this, the presentation was crisp and considered. There was nothing on the table, I confess, that merited reproach. Indeed, there was nothing on the menu that struck me as incoherent or carelessly arranged. It was a culinary map, written clearly and rooted in place.
As for price, one cannot say it was low, but that is quite beside the point. It was fair, and more importantly, it was proportionate. I have paid far more for far less, and with far greater regret. In this case, my friend--generous soul that he is--insisted on covering the bill, which rendered the experience even more delightful, though I would have gladly paid for it myself.
Would I return? I would. And with a modicum of enthusiasm not commonly associated with Tysons Corner. Lebanese Taverna, in this incarnation at least, is a reminder that elegance, authenticity, and service can still convene at the table--even in an age increasingly indifferent to all th
