Tavern on State

New Haven is a pizza town first. You could argue for other contenders—some excellent Thai, a handful of high-end Italian spots, and a burger that claims to be the best in America. But if you’re opening a restaurant here, you’re either going to war with the greats or hiding in the attic… Tavern on State doesn’t shout war cries from the trenches, but it doesn’t necessarily stay hush-hush.

The Space

You can walk in wearing jeans and a hoodie and order a $5 Narragansett, or you can drop real money on natural wine (if you like yeast and bush…). There’s not much flash. It’s not trendy (maybe it was 10 years ago). The walls are dark wood, the tables are heavy, Edison bulbs hang from the ceiling, flickering light onto the face of your company. 

The room can shift depending on the night. Early in the evening, it’s intimate—a cocktail stretches into a meal. But when it’s full, the energy is there. You hear forks clicking against plates, the scrape of a chair over wood floors, the burst of laughter from a 20 top crammed into a too-small space. It’s loud and it makes you lean closer to talk. I like that.

The Food

Tavern on State does food smart: it takes the idea of tavern food and stretches it in a way that makes sense. You could build a meal entirely out of small plates, pick at a Caesar salad and a burger, or go all in on a whole fish. It thrives in that sweet spot between highbrow and homespun—a small kitchen turning out small plates with big flavors. The food is authentic and people have noticed. In 2023, The New York Times named chef Emily Mingrone’s fried chicken—served with green tomato relish and radish salad—one of the 23 Best American Dishes of the Year. That dish, however, wasn’t on our menu that night (I’ll be coming back for it). But that’s the thing about Tavern on State: it isn’t built around a single showstopper. The menu moves and follows the seasons. It changes daily, and for different reasons. Mingrone may get her hands on something good and a new dish is born. Maybe a purveyor delivers something she’s not happy with and a dish comes off. An idea will come to her out of the blue, and suddenly it’s on the menu. 

Here’s what we ate:

Bazlama Flatbread with ‘Nduja Hummus

Bread is a good way to judge a place, and this was a strong start. The bazlama—warm, pillowy, with just enough char—was the kind of flatbread that disappears too quickly. What do you do with the rest of the sauce? In most cases: spoon it into your mouth. Not here. The ‘nduja hummus, was muted with no spice or smoke—more of a generic, vaguely savory spread. The heat was there, but it never quite landed. It’s not offensive, just typical. Something you’d expect to find anywhere that’s still doing this trend.

Little Gem Caesar with Anchovy, Buttered Croutons, Pecorino Pepato & Lemon

A very good Caesar. Sharp anchovy, buttery croutons, cheese with some Reggiano bite. The lettuce was good, but not California good. Come back in the spring, when the season is on its side, and you might get something closer to perfect.

Grilled Carrots with Maple Labneh, Radicchio Jam & Toasted Fennel Streusel

Good flavors, missing contrast. The maple labneh was smooth, the radicchio jam added bitterness. The carrots were “Mono-textured”. I wanted a sharper char on the outside, a bit more softness inside. Instead, they sat in the middle, neither crisp nor melting. And why are we so obsessed with covering carrots with bits? Give me lemon and some yogurt-thing. 

French Onion Gnudi with Aged Comté & Thyme

Rich, soft, and what you want from something with “French onion” in the name. Get this on a date. Feels sexy to order. 

Grilled Dorade with Smoked Sunchoke Purée & Watercress Salad

One of the best things we ate. Crispy skin, flaky, balanced by an earthy sunchoke purée. The watercress salad cut through with just the right amount of “freshness” (I hate that word). I wish I could make this at home, but I need restaurants like this to do it for me.

Mushroom Congee with Maitake Mushrooms, Bok Choy, Chili Crisp & Soft Egg

This was a comfort bowl. I’d forgotten about congee, but one bite reminded me that I’d been craving it for months. Congee is supposed to be a bed for whatever you put on top of it, and this one did its job—velvety, rich. The maitakes brought umami, the bok choy added “freshness”, and the soft egg bled into it all, making everything just a little silkier. 

Smashburger with American Cheese, Pickles, Onion, Lettuce, Spicy Mayo & Fries

Crispy-edged patty, gooey American cheese, the right hit of acid from the pickles. Quality fries. When you come in here for a drink at the bar, this is what you’re going to get. Honestly I was expecting this place to make a burger that was doing something—sharp cheddar, a gochujang spread, some twist. But I’m not mad that they didn’t. Keep things classic unless you have something really unique. And even then, I want my fucking American cheese.

Desserts

Friends, family, and my lovers all know one thing about me: I'm not a big hot fruit guy. I was set up to dislike the pomegranate tart. Flavors: sharp fruit, spiced biscoff crust, mascarpone to smooth it all out. But the crust was too buttery, overwhelming everything else. By the second bite, I was seconds away from spewing my food. Maybe it works if you like rich things, but for me, it was a miss.

The tiramisu—with chestnut Budino and chocolate fudge—was more mush than anything. Deep, nutty warmth from the Budino, thick fudge weighing it down—nothing airy or delicate here. Perhaps there is nothing more ostentatious than describing food as ostentatious, but no other word captures the heaviness of this dish.

The olive oil cake. When we had too many kumquats on the tree, my family would zest them into olive oil cake batter and cook the rest of them down into a chutney—spooning it over the top the finished cakes. Here the cake was moist, fragrant, with a hit of citrus to keep it from feeling flat. A high-quality slice of cake—even without the Proustian memories.

Should You Eat Here?

Tavern on State is a serious place making serious food in a city known for its serious pizza—and not much else in terms of culinary spectacles. In a city of over a million, it would be good. Here in New Haven, where the bar for food outside of apizza is lower, it stands out. It’s a restaurant that understands its role—somewhere between neighborhood bar and destination spot, where you can sit at the counter with a $5 Narragansett and a burger or settle in for a long meal built around a perfectly cooked fish and a few well-made cocktails. The highs are high, and the lows are never disastrous (don’t get the pomegranate tart)—just things you note for next time. There will be a next time.

If you come in for a drink, you’ll probably stay for something more. They make it easy for you—Tuesday through Thursday, happy hour runs with $10 classic cocktails, $20 select bottles of wine, $10 smashburgers, $10 Caesar salads, and $5 fries. 

Tavern on State doesn’t charge into battle with the heavyweights of New Haven dining—it fights a smarter war. It knows when to blitz, when to retreat, and when to let the food do the talking. In a city defined by pizza, it carves out its own ground, holding firm. No need for war cries—just quiet confidence and good cooking.