Located at 5800 9th Ave N, in the Tyrone area, V9 Eats opened three years ago. Before becoming a restauranteur, the owner, Carolyn Dalton, worked as a conceptual designer. Now she conceptualizes ingredients, and certainly has a knack for it. The building space was originally a service and gas station. Some customers’ first jobs were at the station; they wear their old uniforms when they come to eat, she tells me.
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Like any well-outfitted garage, V9 Eats has the right tool to fix any craving, and the menu constantly evolves. Some evolutions evoke the culture of the chefs. There’s fried schnitzel and Indian butter curry. “When we started,” says Carolyn, “we had five items. I have no idea how many we have now.” The menu also evolves according to seasonal produce. When its strawberry season: shortcake and ice-cream; peach season: similar deal, so it’s imperative for me to return throughout the year, you know, in a solely professional capacity.
Suffice to say, the chefs are having fun collaborating, experimenting, and surprising customers. Collaboration extends beyond their own kitchen. They champion and sell bread from Mama Pearl’s, and delights from several other vendors. You can even purchase girl scout cookies. Support the troop!
“We’ll smoke anything…”
A tanker out front smokes chicken-wings and baby-back ribs, low and slow. Carolyn smokes whatever else she fancies. “If we see a duck we like, we’ll smoke it,” she says. Later, chef Lisa quips, “we’ll smoke anything… down to the bologna.” New dishes regularly tempt customers off familiar favorites. Since there’s no smoked duck or bologna today, I peruse the standard menu. The smash burger catches my attention. But is that choice too pedestrian given the eclecticism? Jerk chicken sandwich and sweet Thai chili wings, then.
Besides grub, V9 Eats produces in-house teas. I opted for hibiscus, which Carolyn tells me must percolate at an exact temperature to come out right, sweet but not too sweet, where the hibiscus flower, which blooms all over Florida, is the star, not added sugar. Carolyn doesn’t divulge the proper percolation temperature. I don’t blame her. After tea, I scarf the sandwich, the wings, and fail my journalistic duties by forgetting to take a picture first. I love the grub I ordered; I lament what I didn’t order. I’ll be back for that, though. Everyone comes back, I gather.
For how good the meal is, I’m admittedly simple. My favorite bit? Leaving V9 Eats with a container of their homemade pickles; I guard them the whole way home.
Follow V9 Eats: Facebook; Instagram
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