Included in the 2024 Michelin Green Guide USA East, The Clifton was built in 1799 as a home for Thomas Jefferson’s daughter Martha and her husband. The property currently houses a boutique hotel and restaurant helmed by Executive Chef Matthew Bousquet. On a crisp November evening, I decided to see what all the excitement was about. The experience inspired me to put together a guide of my own—a few tips to make the most of your meal.
Do arrive early and get a drink at the bar.
Located in the heart of 1799, The Copper Bar—named for the copper piping supporting shelves of alluringly illuminated bottles—sets the tone for the evening.
Try one of bartender Chris Wellen’s handcrafted cocktails. Leaning into autumn flavors, I ordered the Maple Walnut Manhattan, scented with black walnut bitters, sweetened with maple syrup, and served old-fashioned style on a single, sizable ice cube. My husband opted for The Harvest, a blend of local Ragged Branch bourbon, cinnamon apple syrup, and rhubarb bitters.
Don’t fill up on the bread.
This might seem obvious to anyone who’s ever arrived pleasantly hungry to a restaurant and been tempted by a basket of rolls. But here, there are no baskets, and these are no ordinary rolls. Instead, a Staub cast-iron cocotte appeared, filled with steaming, buttered rolls studded with mustard seeds. Hearty wheat crackers ribboned with red onion offered a crisp contrast. A pat of softened butter completed the offering.
You may wonder what you’re meant to dip the crackers into. The answer? Nothing. And you’ll like it. This first offering stands entirely on its own.
Don’t order the bone marrow escargot.
Unless, of course, you’re ready for the rest of your meal to live in its shadow. This appetizer has officially joined my “last supper” list. From the moment the server set down the marrow spoon, I knew I was in for an experience.
This dish is a balancing act in every sense. Narrow slices of crisp toast teeter against halved bones, interiors shimmering with luscious marrow. The entire dish is drizzled with Pernod butter, greened with parsley, and dotted with a generous scattering of tender escargot. The dish invites a perfect bite: Tear off a piece of toast, spread on the creamy marrow, top with buttery escargot, and dip into one of the artful dollops of tangy lemon gel scattered across the plate.
For my husband, the star of the show was his entrée: the Kunz short rib. Naturally, I stole a forkful. Resting in a silky pool of celery root purée, the tender beef was unexpectedly paired with ginger and mango, alongside familiar accompaniments of spinach and horseradish-dijon cream.
Be prepared to learn.
Not from books, though you’ll see many filling the floor-to-ceiling shelves of the library room where we were seated. Instead, learn from the dishes, your server, and maybe even from your phone (hello, Google).
I don’t pretend to know every ingredient and cooking technique. That’s the beauty of dining out: It challenges you. It teaches you how to taste, layer by layer. There’s meant to be some mystery, some velvet curtain between us and the alchemy of the kitchen.
I couldn’t help but wonder: Who is Kunz, whose name graces the short rib dish? Not the 1799’s Michelin-starred Bousquet, but Gray Kunz, the celebrated chef behind Manhattan’s now-closed Lespinasse. The recipe lives on, skillfully adapted by Bousquet into a dish that feels very at home on 1799’s menu.
Do choose Virginia wine.
I opted for a glass of Lovingston’s 2022 Rotunda Red, vibrant with ripe red fruit, soft tannins, and a hint of black pepper on the finish. If that doesn’t suit your taste, the wine cellar features an array of award-winning Virginia vineyards alongside global vintages. Highlights were a viognier from Pollak Vineyards, and Barboursville Vineyards’ sauvignon blanc, Vermentino Reserve, and Octagon.
Ask about the ingredients.
Tucked among the grounds of The Clifton is a chef’s garden. The burrata, a first course that evolves throughout the year, showcases the garden’s ingredients. This version spotlighted Badger Flame beets, a unique variety tasting of honeyed sweet carrots. Nestled alongside burrata on a bed of tender lettuces, the salad was dressed with fennel pollen butter, a granola vanilla vinaigrette infused with Espelette pepper, and a white chocolate crumble. If a salad could flirt with being dessert, this one came deliciously close.
Let’s revisit the number four. I researched Espelette so you didn’t have to. It’s a pepper cultivated in the French town of the same name, with a flavor somewhere between sumac and Aleppo pepper. Sumac I know—its tart, lemony brightness grows wild in my backyard. But Espelette? It’s new to me, and I love that.
Do order dessert.
The rhum savarin looked like a simple puff pastry but delighted us with its moist, tres leches-like interior. The chocolate lava cake, served in yet another charming Staub cocotte, delivered ooey-gooey bitter chocolate goodness, balanced by poached pears and toasted almonds. It was decadent, warm, and the perfect note to end the evening.
