Because every restaurant is more than just what’s on the plate.
American Bistro | $$$ | 530 6th Street, Rapid City
Settling In
I’m going to assume you go out to eat like most people . You open the menu, you second-guess yourself, and you land on the thing you always land on. If I can’t decide, it’s always pasta. You trust yourself, for better or worse
Tally’s Silver Spoon has a menu item called Indecision, and it takes that away from you on purpose. You pick a number. Two courses, three, four, or five. After that, you’re done deciding. Victoria and I both went with three, and once we said the word, the night belonged to the kitchen.
That kitchen belongs to Chef Benjamin Klinkel, who trained at Le Cordon Bleu and apprenticed in Michelin-starred restaurants in France before landing back here on 6th Street. So when I say we handed over the wheel, know who we handed it to.
The Little Stuff
Tally’s is cozy. The tables sit close. There’s outdoor seating for the warm months, but inside it stays pretty together. It never gets too loud in there either, which adds to the feeling that something fun is on its way. The staff were very involved and kept the experience feeling special.
The Reason You’re There
First up was a course called the Cureiosity. House cured pork belly, white miso, compressed pear, ponzu gel, puffed forbidden rice, candied ginger, charred citrus dust, crispy shallot, and shiso. I know what most of these things are. I think.
The compressed pear was the standout, sweet and clean and cutting through everything around it. Then the pork belly surprised me. It tasted like a real, straightforward bite of pork. The fat was rendered just right and it melted on your tongue.
Then came Terrain. A local leaf blend with tomato red pepper vinaigrette, quinoa, whipped feta and honey, citrus beet, cucumber mint gelee, cherry tomato, kalamata olives, and house dukkah. On paper, a salad. In your mouth, a surprise.
A spiciness sneaks up out of nowhere. I mean, it shouldn’t have been sneaky, it has paprika and pepper vinaigrette. But it doesn’t hit you instantly. It creeps in just right and at the last minute makes you happy.
Last was the Bison Frites. Bison medallions served over fries. I didn’t see this one on the regular menu, and it’s the most familiar-sounding plate of the three. Fries are about as common as food gets. Pairing them with bison, though, was something you again are trusting that the kitchen gets just right. At this point, all the trust was earned.
The bison had a nice rich, earthy flavor and was cooked just right. It wasn’t quite as tender as I’m used to, a little more chewy than you’d expect, though nowhere near tough. Not a deal breaker in the least.
What Sticks With You
Here’s the thing about the whole night. Not one of these three plates is something I’d have ordered on my own. Left to my own habits, I’d have picked the safe thing and never known what I missed.
You’re always trusting the chef when you eat out. That’s the deal every time. But when you don’t know what the next plate is, that trust has to climb a notch higher. At Tally’s, all things considered, it’s well earned.
Victoria’s Taste
None of these three dishes are things I would’ve picked for myself, and that’s exactly what made them stand out. The experience is the whole point. Even when it’s something you don’t expect to enjoy, you can taste the care that went into it, and that care lifts the whole thing a little higher. I left thinking about food I never would’ve chosen.
Final Bite
Three courses ran $54 a person, money well spent for a night where the only choice I made was a number. You give up the menu, you give up the safety of ordering what you always order, and you let someone who trained in France decide what your evening tastes like. Most restaurants ask you to trust them. Tally’s almost dares you to, and then makes sure you’re glad you did.
Taste the Room pays for every meal we review. We don’t accept comped food, and restaurants aren’t notified of our visit in advance. It’s how we keep our reviews honest and independent.
