At Blue Rock, chef Bin Lu brings unpretentious fine dining to Rappahannock County.
In an early fall evening at the Restaurant at Blue Rock, the table to my left toasts their fifth anniversary with a second glass of Champagne, a perk of staying overnight in one of the inn’s five guestrooms. To my right, another couple raises a glass to 30 years, dining in serene silence while savoring every bite.
From the patio, congenial laughter circulates among a group of locals sipping viognier. Their ease hints at years spent together as the sun sets over the Blue Ridge on a beautiful Saturday night.
Bucolic Magic
As the golden hour fades, I wonder if they recall Blue Rock’s previous incarnations. The stately farmhouse began as a 19th-century working farm before it passed into the hands of two French brothers in 1992, who transformed it into a beloved country inn. This history lingers in the collective memory of the people of rural Washington, and it’s one that Blue Rock’s current proprietors are proud to honor.
“Blue Rock has gone through so many iterations, but it has always been part of Rappahannock County,” says Chef Bin Lu of the Inn’s bucolic magic. “People have a tie to this place; there’s a reason it couldn’t exist anywhere else.”
And there’s a reason Lu, former head chef at Pineapple and Pearls—a two-star Michelin restaurant in D.C.—transferred his talents, partnering with Blue Rock owner Nick Dowling, to turn this intimate inn into a dining destination.
In 2020, when Lu got wind of something happening at a rural Rappahannock County property, he sent a cold email. Lu didn’t know if Dowling had a chef, a concept, or even if he’d want to be involved. But, nearly two years later, he’s at the helm of both the Restaurant at Blue Rock and the adjoining Tasting Room.
With a résumé that includes turns at Manresa in Los Gatos, California, Attica in Melbourne, Australia, and The Clifton in nearby Albemarle County, Lu is a fine dining veteran. But for Blue Rock, he envisioned something different: comfortable, laid-back fine dining designed to foster connection.
Lu steered the menu away from a tasting format. If you sit down to a 10-course menu for two hours, he figures, that’s 12 minutes per course. Add time for dish descriptions and ogling over each plate, and there’s precious little left for conversation. Although it’s carefully choreographed, Lu’s four-course prix fixe dinner brings the easygoing feel of supper with an old friend.
In the light-filled hunt country dining room with its expansive mountain views, we’re greeted with a refreshing mint granita and tomato jelly amuse-bouche. As I scan the menu, I sample the warm olive oil ciabatta. The bread’s herbal flavor is heightened by a savory chili butter and it’s not to be missed.
Dinner begins with a light first course, and tonight’s sweet onion custard is topped with Maryland blue crab and accompanied by fava beans, pickled ramps, and spring onion. The combination, smooth and savory, is delicious.
Next, I’m sold on the Charleston “Ice Cream,” sweet creamed corn that gets its briny contrast from paddlefish caviar.
As the sommelier visits between courses, we learn the provenance and process behind each wine pairing, from the impact of fossilized oyster shells on the French terroir to the specifics of late-harvest straw wine, made from grapes dried off the vine.
Main dishes are plated with the artistry you expect from fine dining, but Lu serves his sides family style, designed for passing. It’s his way of inviting interaction at the table.
This isn’t city food—and it’s not trying to be. To make the shift from urban to rural dining, Lu studied the cookbooks of country inn chefs, many in Europe, immersing himself in recipes designed to elevate the bounty of local ingredients.
There’s no pretense in a perfectly medium rare rib eye, flanked by a “pastrami” short rib, served with a mole jus and confit new potato. The short rib owes its rich flavor to a 48-hour pastrami brine. Slow cooked for 72 hours, it’s then finished on the grill.
It’s hard to imagine a dessert that could top Lu’s dinner, but I’m still craving the opera cake with dark chocolate and toasted hazelnuts. The cake comes with a slightly salty French fry ice cream that tastes exactly like a fry dipped in a Wendy’s Frosty—and it’s a showstopper.
A chilled coupe of rosé sorbet floating in Champagne ends the meal with a final, festive surprise.
Memories on a Plate
I ask Lu what inspired him to infuse ice cream with the flavor of a French fry. “How do we express memories on a plate?” he asks. By reimagining a hot, salty fry sweetened by cold chocolate milkshake, he’s tapping visceral memory to delight and surprise through flavor. “For me, you look at your context, where you are, and who you’re around,” he explains. “What does that mean to people coming through your door? What does it mean for you? You find a way to express that meaning,” explains Lu.
And, if my evening at Blue Rock was any indication, that connection will live on for another generation.
Sidebar: The Tasting Room
Both rustic and refined, The Tasting Room at Blue Rock spills onto the slate patio with its mountain views, stunning at sunset. It’s the ideal gathering spot after an afternoon spent hiking in nearby Shenandoah National Park or exploring the area’s breweries. Sip a cocktail from Blue Rock’s inspired lineup, or choose wine, beer, or spirits—available by the glass, bottle, or flight.
The Foothills Menu, designed for sharing, offers charcuterie, a cheese board, and the indulgent private- batch caviar served on bloody butcher hoe cakes and topped with crème fraîche. For those hankering for a meal, there’s fried chicken, a seasonal pasta dish, or Blue Rock’s signature burger made with dry-aged beef. Petit manseng and chardonnay vines hint at plans for winemaking, but for now, the excellent wine list includes bottles from Virginia and around the world.
This article originally appeared in the December 2022 issue.
