Minimalist Expression Metes Out Maximal Experience at Present Tense

When visiting a newish (1-year-old) restaurant for the first time, it’s encouraging to see one of Nashville’s most Culinarily Critical Couples walk in the door shortly after you’ve taken your seat. Even more so when that CCC tells you Present Tense is one of their regular spots, a favorite in Nashville’s explosive — and in their estimation, often disappointing — dining scene. When one-half of that discerning CCC is of Asian descent, and you know the chef mines influence, techniques, flavors and products from East and Southeast Asia … well, I had high hopes.

Present Tense, owned by GM Rick Margaritov and chef Ryan Costanza, describes itself as a modern izakaya-style dining experience. Izakaya is defined as a casual Japanese pub or restaurant specializing in snacks, shared plates and beverages, particularly sake. The one-page menu is divided into five sections minus headings — though the desserts are easily identified as such. Core vegetables, seafood and proteins stood out among unfamiliar ingredients and terms that had us madly Googling.

Our server Elizabeth Kneidinger was so knowledgeable we could have just kept our phones in our purses and let her explain. We kind of felt we had worn her out with questions about the wine list — which by design includes more unknowns than knowns — and extensive menu of sakes, for which Present Tense is known. Patience was another virtue she displayed, advising and pouring tastes until the imbibers met their match. (Due to a sudden and as yet incurable intolerance of fermentation, I was happy to see Untitled Art’s NA Italian Style Pils among the high-octane beers. Yay hospitality for all!) She was also attentive to our pesky dietary restrictions, which in addition to fermentation, included another’s shellfish allergy. With that taken care of, we were ready to dive into Costanza’s food.

Bread and butter is always a good start, and intriguing when the bread is grilled seaweed sourdough and the butter is mixed with kombu (kelp). At first bite, I recognized Sam Tucker, the bread genius behind Village Bakery + Provisions. I don’t drive from my current home in Asheville, N.C., to Nashville just for a loaf of his rustic sourdough and another of spent grain, but I don’t leave Nashville without them.

Costanza, fastidious about sourcing, authenticity and attention to every detail, recognized a kindred spirit in Tucker; multiple test batches later, they found the consistency, texture and taste they were after.

In breaking news, Costanza revealed that after a lengthy R&D process, a house-made bread is nearly ready for the table. A cross between Japanese milk bread and brioche, it will be baked as a four-part, pull-apart bun, with the kombu butter and perhaps a chicken liver parfait.

Tucker’s seaweed sourdough remains as the foundation for the indisputable diva of the menu — tuna toast. If you, like me, see anything “toast” and your reaction is, “Can we stop with the toast already?” let that go and reach for the toast.

It’s an iteration of a dish Costanza came up with at Abernethy’s in Los Angeles, where he was awarded a prestigious four-month residency voted upon by a panel of Michelin chefs. While conceptualizing his menu there, he focused on his Sicilian and Sardinian heritage, merging it with his extensive experience cooking in Asia. The tuna toast — luscious, fresh raw seafood intensely flavored yet restrained in presentation — was born. He builds up from a thick slice of grilled bread smeared with wagyu aioli, then piles high glistening, rosy cubes of tuna. Depending on availability, the tuna will be bigeye or blue fin. It was the latter the night we dined.

The menu changes frequently — driven in large part by availability of product — but in addition to the tuna toast, diners who form an attachment to the karaage chicken need not fret. Admitting that he didn’t set out to do “tons of fried chicken,” Costanza acknowledges it is a top seller, and points out that it’s not just any chicken, but Jidori chicken — recognized as the Kobe of fowl. Indeed, the boneless pieces of thigh meat — brined, marinated and dusted with three specific flours before a quick deep-fry in a light oil — are moist, tender and perfectly salted. They don’t necessarily need more than a spritz of the lime wedge on the tray, but the ramekin of sauce — a mix of tarragon, chervil, yuzu and creme fraiche — should not be ignored. 

I discovered Japanese sweet potatoes at a tailgate market in Asheville, and when I cut into the one I baked, I was surprised to discover that inside the deep-purple skin was white flesh with a nutty flavor. Costanza’s far more complex approach resulted in one of our favorite dishes, and he says it’s one of his too. The whole potato is wrapped in kelp and, thanks to that, simultaneously roasts and steams until the flesh turns creamy. The potato is sliced in half, brushed with miso butter and placed on the grill over binchōtan (the clean, nearly smokeless wood-based charcoal that is gold standard for grilling in Japan) until the skin chars black, sprinkled with sea salt and bonito flakes and plated with creme fraiche whipped with fresh yuzu and a drizzle of lovage oil. 

Several other dishes benefited from time on the binchōtan — two lamb chops coated in a mix of thyme, garlic, anchovies and Szechuan peppercorns that turns to a crispy, Mediterranean-evocative crust encasing the pink meat. Peruvian cuisine makes a cameo appearance in medallions of octopus, skewered and grilled, then laid atop a shallow pool of golden aji amarillo sauce, topped with a scatter of crunchy cancha (dried toasted maize kernels).

Maybe your mother forbade dessert until you finished dinner. Polishing off your plates will not be an issue at Present Tense, but the good news is you can just have dessert. Who among us can resist soft-serve ice cream? Miso white sesame is always available, along with a second flavor of the night, but don’t torture yourself with such a dreadful decision. Get them both, after dinner or maybe as a nightcap at the bar, with a carafe of sake or flute of sparkling wine.

Speaking of nightcaps, we reserved an early-bird table and were glad we did, finding an oasis of quiet and calm next to the open floor-to-ceiling glass doors, beside a plant-filled patio as dusk descended in Wedgewood-Houston. Before dedicating himself to culinary, Costanza was studying interior architecture, attracted to clean lines, simplicity and minimalism, and Present Tense’s aesthetic reflects that. When the sun sets, the music goes up, and the bar and dining room become louder and livelier. Pick your vibe and plan accordingly.

In Present Tense’s inaugural year, the team introduced a six-seat omakase counter for guests to enjoy a 12-course tasting menu, with the option of wine and sake pairings by Margaritov. The two seatings on Friday and Saturday nights have proven so popular they have expanded to Thursday nights. Also newly available is an eight-course omakase menu nightly for the table.

Omakase is a Japanese dining experience that leaves the choosing to the chef (a dining style my kids endured every night under my roof). In our self-curated experience, there were no wrong choices and no disappointments. My high hopes were not only met, but decidedly, delightfully, deliciously exceeded.