Rapscallion offers a raw bar along with several Southern-influenced menu items that make use of their wood-burning grill. One thing not on the menu, however, was valet parking, so it was with great trepidation that we ventured down to Lower Greenville, the scars of many parking space hunts on Saturday evenings still fresh in our psyche.
We missed our turn off of Greenville, fortuitously, as it turned out, because having done so took us right to a spot with ample parking. Things were looking up, our spirits raised with this small victory as we made our way cautiously towards the restaurant, navigating the ice patches and mini snowdrifts until we made it inside and announced our arrival to the hostess, who after verifying our reservations promptly sat us at a high-top table for two in the bar.
The Moon-Dance cocktail is made with gin, Aperol, lemon, blood orange purée, rosemary, simple syrup and cardamom bitters.
Hank Vaughn
For starters, we tried the deviled eggs, which were lovely little things, served five to an order. The main star was a chunk of crispy chicken skin on top, along with dill and hot sauce. These were very good, but there were two of us and five servings. That last one sat there as neither of us wanted to be the greedy one until I made the supreme sacrifice and finished it off.
Our mains included the wood-grilled Wagyu Teres Major (photo at top) and the Heritage Berkshire pork chop, both reasonably priced at under $40 somehow. The steak came in three little pieces, which sat upon a parsnip purée and came with some grilled leeks and a pomegranate demi-glace. Nicely done.
The pork chop got the purée treatment as well, this time of the sweet potato variety, and was surrounded by a ringlet of green oil. Medium-rare was perfect, and even though it was pork. It was also presliced off the bone, but the bone was left on the plate and provided some of the best meaty morsels of the meal.
For sides, we got Gammy’s Mac and Cheese and a buttermilk biscuit. The mac and cheese was your standard higher-end restaurant variety, with a nicely browned top, very rich and cheesy. The biscuit, however, was phenomenal. It was served with whipped butter and a mixed berry jam that was so good we had to ask the server which berry it was. The answer for those scoring at home: huckleberry. This was a perfect complement to a perfectly baked biscuit that was flaky and buttery and sensuous, and this coming from a guy from the Midwest who has never fully understood this region’s obsession with biscuits. Highly recommended. We might get two next time.
Even though this was a birthday dinner, we decided to forego dessert and brave our way back home through the frozen tundra to farthest North Dallas. It was almost painful to give up our great parking space and the nice, comfy warmth of the Rapscallion dining room, but all good things must end.
