Everything We Ate at Chef Theo Adley’s Highly-Anticipated New Restaurant, Heretik

Among the many signs that you might be in for a great dining experience is when you walk into a restaurant and hear the chef humming along to his work. That’s what we found last week when we visited the highly-anticipated Heretik, a Basque/French concept in RiNo from James Beard Award-nominated chef Theo Adley. 

“I love this shit, dude,” he responded, when asked if he was enjoying himself.  

And he was not alone. Surrounded by a small cadre of fellow cooks, Adley and his team moved through the narrow, open kitchen with a practiced grace and easy smiles more typical of a crew at a restaurant after months of operation, not one that just opened the night before.

Bellying up to the six-seat counter, we watched the team plating, serving and casually chatting up the guests watching the action. Here, you can not only see, smell and feel (the heat) of the large Rotisol French rotisserie oven — spinning the restaurant’s signature spit-roasted chicken — but watch each plate develop before your eyes as the forage-cap-wearing chefs clad in white work their magic.

Which helps, because while some dishes on the menu are listed in straightforward descriptive terms (“shrimp cocktail’), others tilt to the more obscure (“lejarreta pintxo”). In many cases, it’s easier to point at a particularly enticing dish crossing the pass and just say, “One of those, please.”

The “matrimonio marigold” ($12) required a bit more explanation. It featured a phyllo dough cracker with a healthy chunk of mackerel lightly pickled in rice wine vinegar, dressed in a yuzu kosho citrus sauce and anchovy with garlic and olive oil. Both the mackerel and anchovy proved almost mild compared to the umami pop you might expect, allowing the more subtle nuance of the combined flavors to emerge. 

Taken together, the level of restraint and nuance in these introductory plates was unexpected. That’s not so much a complaint as a curiosity, as it stripped away any sense of expectation and set the stage for what was to come. 

We paired both dishes with a slightly sparkling, unfiltered dry white txakoli wine native to the Basque region, served in wide glasses that offer a wider target for servers — who have to pour each glass from arm’s length, as is the style of the region. 

As we watched skewered raw chicken slowly brown before us, fat dripping into a sizzling pan below, the next set of dishes arrived. They included a pair of chicken wings stuffed with boudin blanc sausage, skewered with a mild piparra pepper, and laid atop an earthy romesco sauce ($18). These wings were a far cry from the bar-food snack often foisted upon us, but more of a sausage wrapped in chicken skin, easily portioned to mop up the lovely romesco. 

Next was a Dungeness crab tortilla ($32), a Spanish-style omelet combining eggs, onions, and potatoes into a tight little cake, layered with crab meat and a smooth crab bisque. It was a wholly satisfying plate of comfort that disappointed only in that it was gone far too soon. 

We paired these dishes with an oxidative palomino wine, in which oxygen is intentionally allowed in during aging, giving it a nutty, dried-fruit sweetness that paired perfectly with the tortilla. 

There aren’t many vegetables on the menu, but one outlier was a dish of noodled celeriac dressed in a remoulade sauce with smoked trout ($21), garnished with a little trout roe. Another was the simplest of simple salads (that’s what it’s called), chilled, lightly dressed, and dusted with a chiffonade of tarragon-heavy fines herbs ($14). 

And then… the main event. Leaving Heretik without sampling the showcase rotisserie chicken would be a crime; fortunately, the menu offers both half ($36) and full ($68) sizes. The plating is simple: cut-up sections of sticky-crisp chicken over matchstick-thin potatoes, a side gravy boat of chicken jus, and a well-balanced sauce verde consisting of capers, parsley, garlic, oil, and lemon. 

Asked whether to pour it over the entire dish or dip in from bite to bite, Adley just shrugged, smiled, and said, “Follow your heart.”

But definitely follow the server’s suggestion and get a glass of Spanish garnacha, one of the better expressions of the varietal available by the glass. 

This is a lot of food, and you’d be forgiven for taking some of it home to enjoy later. But you won’t forgive yourself for not ordering the Basque cheesecake, which was served with a simple drizzle of passionfruit sauce. It was the lightest cheesecake we’ve ever experienced, almost like a soufflé, with a burnt caramelized exterior that will convert even the most rabid anti-cheesecake detractors. 

Still, will diners get it? Many of the dishes will be unfamiliar to those not exposed to the Basque region and will require detailed explanation. This is true for the wine list, too; some glasses need just as much explanation as the dishes they complement (but the option of 2.5-ounce half-pours encourages exploration and discovery). 

Heretik also sits in a challenging space, tucked away in an odd corner just off 26th Street. Neither of the last two occupants — the short-lived Koko Ni and Biju’s Little Curry Shop — was able to make it. But chef-of-the-moment Johnny Curiel had been using the space as his commissary kitchen before Adley took over, so perhaps he passed along a little of that pixie dust he’s recently rolled in.

If the meal we had is any indication, though, Adley already has all the magic pixie dust he needs.

Heretik is located at 1441 26th Street and is open from 4 to 10 p.m. Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday, and 4 to 11 p.m. Friday and Saturday. For more information, visit maisonheretik.com.