Part of what gives me so much joy about eating in Asheville is recognizing that we’re all part of a very integrated ecosystem. It feels like every restaurant I love is either run by an alum of one of the places I’ve been involved in, or by people that I’ve worked side by side with at hurricane-relief events, or by someone I know I’m going to see at the farmers market.
That’s what makes Asheville special. The folks that come in from out of town are lucky that there’s a virtuous cycle of talent here to keep the pipeline full. It’s so cool to see the evolution of this place, even if we locals don’t always realize how good we have it.
It’s almost funny how not a big deal eating out here is. It’s so laid-back. We take it for granted that it’s going to be a great restaurant—of course it is! Having said that, the sheer range of restaurants is incredible. Given how small our town actually is, I sometimes find myself thinking, How lucky are we?
A hallmark of most of the restaurants I love is their connection to nearby farms. At my last count, there were more than a dozen farmers markets happening in Asheville, and there are probably more than twice as many local farms within an hour of here. Most people know the farmers by name, and nobody is precious about it. So when you go to a restaurant, they’ll just say, “It’s Evan’s greens tonight,” and everybody knows who Evan is.
The last thing is that whether it’s an Indian restaurant or a Filipino restaurant or Italian or Spanish, I love the Southern throughline in all of the dishes and hospitality here. That doesn’t mean there’s cornbread or okra in every dish; it’s honoring the fact that we all chose to open Indian or Italian restaurants here in Appalachia, so let’s not divorce the two from each other.
Let’s find a way to make it feel holistic. We do that really well. I was worried after the pandemic and Hurricane Helene that Asheville might not bounce back, but we have. I know that this place is going to continue to trailblaze for years to come.
Rachael McIntosh
Luminosa is hands down my wife, Molly, and my favorite date- night restaurant. It checks every box so beautifully. It’s intimate, but also a showstopper. It’s visually exciting to be in there, and yet [the design] doesn’t detract from the food, which they describe as “hyper-local Italian.” In the two years that they’ve been open, they’ve picked up a Michelin Green Star and a Michelin Bib Gourmand, and they deserve it. Everything about it just feels very intentional. The food is brilliantly delicious and the menu changes a lot—which sometimes drives me crazy, but it works here, because I know there’s going to be something fun and new every time I go. Their style of service and hospitality is so old-fashioned it almost borders on being antiquated, but I love it. It’s a small town at the end of the day, and everybody touches your table.
Rachael McIntosh
One word: respect. Katie Button and her crew have been at the top of their game for so long, you almost forget that continuing to win the championship is really hard to do. But they execute at the exact same incredibly high level as they did the first time I walked in years ago. I go there because what they do is incredible, and it’s always good to be reminded of how well they represent the tapas side of Spanish cuisine. It’s also a really exciting restaurant to be in—there’s an energy and a vibe because of the open kitchen, and it feels so intimate and fun. It’s always packed—they’re a victim of their own success—but even if I’m just going in for a glass of sherry and a plate of jamón ibérico, it’s worth pulling whatever favors I must to get in.
Rachael McIntosh
This is a true only-in-Asheville pick, a chest-swelling-with-pride kind of choice. The chef, Silver Iocovozzi, worked with me at [two of Irani’s erstwhile restaurants] MG Road and Buxton Hall, and now they get to showcase their own cuisine, Filipino. Neng Jr.’s feels like the kind of restaurant that this city is built for. It’s so tiny and so intimate, with maybe 12 seats, so you’re packed in and you really feel like you’re eating dinner at Silver’s house. The food feels so personal—it’s brilliant and fun and totally them, with flavor profiles that remind me of Indian street food in some ways, full of fermentation and funk.
Rachael McIntosh
First of all, this space was converted into a restaurant without doing much to disguise the fact that it used to be a house. You’re dining on the front porch or in the side yard or in the living room, but somehow it manages to make you feel like you’re in a small village in Provence. The food has a French focus, as well as an Americana element. They win all kinds of awards for their wine program, deservedly so. Leo’s is hard to describe. It feels like this rustic little bistro where you might order something as simple as a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup, but when it shows up, you realize this could actually be the best grilled cheese and tomato soup you’ve ever had in your life. It’s totally unique and transportive, and it’s become my go-to spontaneous dinner recommendation for friends visiting from out of town.
Rachael McIntosh
I’m going to throw it back a little to one of the first places that really popped in West Asheville. Ten or 15 years ago, The Admiral was essentially a dive bar in a cinder-block building next to a gas station where probably 80 percent of Asheville’s pot deals went down. There, a young chef named Elliot Moss [ed note: later Irani’s partner at Buxton Hall] was putting out gastropub food that was blowing people’s minds. After service, they’d push all the tables to the side to clear room for these legendary dance parties. Now the neighborhood isn’t as sketchy, Elliot is long gone, and they no longer push the tables aside, but the food has not lost an inch. When you’re eating, you can just feel that it’s world-class cuisine, and reservations are hard to get, so it still feels special to get to go to The Admiral.
Rachael McIntosh
The best way I can describe chef Matt Dawes’s food, or at least my experience of it, is that it’s elevated British pub cuisine with a French influence and a Southern twist. The menu swings from steak frites au poivre to the best shepherd’s pie you’ve ever had to a pitch-perfect Welsh rarebit (it’s also the first place I had Welsh rabbit). The restaurant is located maybe 30 feet from the railroad tracks, next to a dirt field and one of the noisiest outdoor breweries in Asheville, but don’t let that deter you. It’s one of the most reliable and satisfying restaurants in the city.
Rachael McIntosh
This is a newcomer to the scene. Chef Ashleigh Shanti Santi, a James Beard Award–winner and prominent Top Chef contestant, has been a passionate advocate for Black Southern foodways. Good Hot Fish is exactly what it sounds like: a fish counter with amazing hot fish sandwiches and seafood, plus the perfect sides. All of the fish she serves comes from local waterways. There’s fried catfish and Gulf shrimp burgers and fish dip with fried saltines. It’s literally just a counter with a few stools against the wall, but the technique is immaculate. The sandwiches are served on squishy white bread with buttermilk tartare sauce, and it delivers on its promise of being the best damn hot fish sandwich you’ve ever had.
Rachael McIntosh
I have to give a shout-out here to one of the OGs. To call All Souls just great pizza does it a disservice; you need to understand the backstory. David Bauer, was one of the first bread gurus/savants of Asheville. Farm and Sparrow, his bakery, helped usher in the modern renaissance of heirloom grains and bread that you now see everywhere. He grew his own grain, milled his own flour, and made these amazing breads. Then he helped open All Souls, which makes pizza using stone-ground heirloom grains, in a style I can only describe as Carolina pizza. It’s our own thing, with our own grains, cooked in a wood-fired oven with toppings that come from within 50 miles or so. It’s in a building that was a diner for decades in West Asheville, next to a big old field where you can spread out a picnic blanket if the restaurant is full. All Souls is a classic example of doing one thing, doing it well, and not being too uptight about it, which is everything I love about Asheville.
Rachael McIntosh
I have to include two bakeries here. Mother serves a full lunch and dinner menu, so it’s a little more on the restaurant side of things. It’s again in a weird part of Asheville, sandwiched between a sauna and a tire shop, with garage doors that open to a front patio that looks like a loading ramp for trucks. And yet, like so many places here, it’s totally transportive. You feel like you’re eating in Europe somehow. Their jambon-beurre sandwich is the closest I’ve had to Fauchon’s in Paris, and their pumpernickel bread is divine. It feels like a restaurant run by a group of passionate friends that care deeply about food and hospitality, who all got together to open a little place as a gift to the community, because that’s exactly what it is.
Rachael McIntosh
I would describe Owl as a bakery with Southern sensibilities and French technique. I’d put the lamination on their croissants up against anything in Stockholm. They’re known for their almond rose croissants, cardamom buns, and squirrel bread [a seed-and-nut loaf], and if you don’t get there right at 8 a.m. they’re going to be sold out. Sometimes I look at the people lining up, and I want to shake each and every one of them and yell, “Do you have any idea how good you have it right now?!” I actually have to resist doing that as I see them gabbing away over their morning pastries and lattes without a care in the world, not recognizing that the rest of us have to schlep around the world God knows how many times to find anything even close to this good in terms of quality and execution. And that’s just life in Asheville.
Rachael McIntosh
It’s an honorable mention, because I haven’t stepped foot in the restaurant for 17 years, but I get takeout from Rocky’s almost every Sunday, when I host a men’s group at my house where we discuss things like “How do you actually define electro music?” and play Crocodile, a weird Canadian board game. In the very crowded field of hot fried chicken, Rocky’s stands at the top, because their chicken is actually melt-your-face hot, not “oh-look-how-cute” Nashville hot. Beginners should get the medium. The hot is for veterans, and the extra hot is something the CIA should use to extract information. The crust is thin and it has the perfect amount of crunch, and the seasoning goes all the way through. But most importantly, every week we get the same order, and never once in 17 years have they messed up that order. I feel like a highly underrated aspect of a great restaurant is doing exactly the same thing 52 weeks out of the year, and I have mad respect for Rocky’s.
Sign up
Dining and Cooking