Dining at The Elm: An Exceptional Experience, In More Ways Than One

Before I tell you more about dining at The Elm restaurant in Great Barrington, I want to make it clear that you are exceedingly unlikely to have the same kind of experience as I did — a lot of things would have to line up just so.

My visit happened to be midweek in the midst of what folks in the Berkshire hospitality business say is traditionally their slowest time of the year, the two weeks in late January following Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Not only that, it was the foulest evening in a stretch of nasty winter weather, a night of high winds, whipping rain, and icy rural roads treacherous enough to keep anyone but the most conscientious restaurant reviewer at home, snug by a fire.

What I’m getting at is that when my friend and I dined together at The Elm, we were the only ones there.

Scallops, kaluga caviar, puprle sweet potato, crispy Brussels, beaurre blanc, toasted hazelnuts

When I arrived, there was a couple on the other side of the restaurant finishing their dinners, and a businessman from out of town chatting about the local attractions with the bartender manning the elegantly restored, possibly century-old bar that is the centerpiece of the room. No one else stepped in after they left and, after a certain point, it was clear that nobody else was going to be venturing in, either. And so, it was just four of us in the front of the house – my friend, myself, our waitress Barbara, and a bartender with nothing but time on his hands, as we weren’t drinking cocktails.

Dining like that in an empty restaurant can go one of two ways – you either come out feeling like you’ve been pampered in an exclusive VIP room where everything was all about you, or like you have just spent a couple of hours eating dinner in an Edward Hopper painting.

The good news is that The Elm provided a convivial and comfortable dining experience, one that left us relaxed, happy, well-fed, and looking forward to returning with the crowds. Since its opening in 2022, friends have urged me to try it for what some called a “more adult” night out than they were accustomed to at other Great Barrington restaurants – for example, one pointed out, you won’t find a hamburger option listed on the dinner menu. “Refined by not fussy,” was another description, and even given the dearth of fellow diners on the night we ate there, that vibe came through.

Prices are adult too, approaching $50 for the most expensive entrées and between $15 and $25 for appetizers. Menu options are limited, though there should be one dish to satisfy most hankerings and/or dietary preferences. On my night at The Elm, appetizers included oysters, shrimp, a cheese plate, a bread service, and two salads. Entrees included scallops, Alaskan salmon, a meatless homemade pasta, duck, pork, and beef.

Despite the chill evening, both my companion and I started with salads, his a tasty mound of winter vegetables and mine the Castlefranco. The perfectly crisp and bitter radicchio leaves and shaved fennel were bathed in a tahini vinaigrette, with spiced pistachios providing extra crunch and pieces of Roquefort imparting a creamy blue cheese tang. All the hearty flavors of the salad harmonized. Paired with the clean dry Gruner Veltliner on The Elm’s by-the-glass wine listing, the salads were an excellent way to start our meals.

Order up: strip steak

My friend ordered the braised short rib entrée on the menu that night. In the past, I’ve written about my belief that braised beef is more properly home-cooking than restaurant food. Since such dishes are relatively simple to do really well in your own kitchen, I always feel as if the restaurant versions rarely display much culinary distinction — and always such small portions. The Elm’s take on braised meat, on the other hand, was a cut above the disappointing beefy mush you get too often — the well-marbled beef held together in a way that delivered all the slow-cooked flavor you expect, with a more appealing mouth feel. The Elm does braised beef better than I can – and that’s high praise, from me, anyway.

Nevertheless, by ordering the duck, I think did even better than my pal – two strips of meaty breast, each with a stripe of seared fat so that each bite married tender medium rare meat with a rich wallop of anatine corpulence. The duck tasted like duck, not a facsimile of chicken, as happens. My friend’s Tuscan red and the Cotes du Rhone I selected off the by-the-glass list were both delicious, as well.

So, after dining alone in an empty room out of season as we did, there are a lot of things I can’t tell you about The Elm. It’s a beautiful space, sure, but how might the place fare when the dining room is jam-packed, with a crowd pressed against the bar waiting to be seated, waitstaff scurrying from their tables back into a steam-filled kitchen begging for the Castlefranco salad table four ordered but that didn’t go out with the other three appetizers, etc.? Because certainly, The Elm being as good as it is, there will be nights like that. Also, the dessert menu only offered the cheese plate and a crème brulee on the night I was there, which was good, but just crème brulee.

The one question I can answer for you is this – did I have a good time? My friend and I had a great time. The service, as you might imagine, was…attentive. But it was also more than that. Both my friend and I are lucky to have jobs that give us the opportunity to talk to many people – influential people, brilliant people, famous people, creative people, and on and on. And both my friend and I really enjoyed talking to our server Barbara, who was engaging, charming, and struck precisely the right notes to make us feel comfortable, chill and happy in a large empty room designed to accommodate a crowd. She was a professional – and that (from me anyway) is high praise. (BTW – my friend went back the following week with his wife on a more normal night for The Elm and reports that they had an equally enjoyable experience.)

As I stood to leave, I wondered again how Edward Hopper might have painted the four of us in that empty room against the dark, intricately-carved mahogany bar the that gives The Elm its panache and visual identity. For one, he would have painted us all wearing hats so we looked sad. That was Hopper’s one-trick pony as an artist – paint a person wearing a hat, and it’s sad. But that’s a critique of an overrated artist and this is a good review of a restaurant with a solid kitchen and a professional staff.

“Great Barrington needed a place like The Elm,” my friend said as we left. Well, Great Barrington, you got it. Enjoy.

The Elm
20 Railroad Atreet, Great Barrington
Wed.-Fri., 5 p.m.-10 p.m.
Sat.-Sun., 11 a.m.-10 p.m.