Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

There’s a new restaurant in Benton Harbor with an odd name: Houndstooth.

In my sewing days, houndstooth was a checked fabric, often black and white, that resembled a plaid with jagged edges. It was most sophisticated back then.

I don’t know how the restaurateurs – a brother and sister act — chose the name for their establishment; but I suspect sophistication had something to do with it. Benton Harbor or St. Joseph hasn’t seen anything like this for a long time.

I knew it wouldn’t be something Earl would like; and my dining companion, D, knew her live-in wouldn’t like it either. Because there is nothing on the menu that yells “Bar food.”

Instead we savored grilled bread with French onion butter. Seven dollars was added to our bill for it; and no penny went to waste. Next we shared a small plate of Wagyu tartare embellished with some kind of gentle eggy thing and shoestring potatoes. I think there was a truffle or two in there as well. Finally, the roasted carrots were to die for.

You might think those were all appetizers before the main course. But we were full when the last carrot was consumed. We didn’t even order a dessert to share. Most unusual for us.

We made a date then and there to return to Houndstooth the beginning of January and make our way through the other menu offerings in 2020. Maybe we’ll even learn how the restaurant got its name.