A Trip to Wolfeboro’s Pavilion

Pavilion’s duck breast, complete with a dusting of dukkah, sunchoke, leek, apple and jus.

March isn’t the flashiest month to visit the Lakes Region. The Lakes — with their glistening freshwater sprawl and quaint, good-time towns set up along the coast — come alive in the winter freeze and summer heat. Thus, the gray, rain-drenched days of early spring don’t exactly line up with that enlivened outdoors reputation. 

But I wasn’t entertaining a hike up to Lake Winnipesauke just for kicks. I had a mission: the birth of a new restaurant.

Well, it wasn’t exactly a new restaurant. First opened in 2020 by Peter and Patty Cooke of Pickering House Inn, Wolfeboro’s Pavilion aimed to bring farm-to-table fine dining to the Lakes, adding to the Inn’s luxury hospitality right next door (read our December 2022 issue’s Great Food Destination North of Concord on Pavilion). 

And they did just that — until February, when they sold Pavilion to Chef Chris Viaud’s Northern Comfort Hospitality Group. 

Viaud is a restaurant owner and Granite Stater with considerable buzz, thanks to his appearance in Season 18 of the popular reality-cooking-competition show “Top Chef.” He’s known for his acclaimed farm-to-table restaurant in Milford, called Greenleaf, and its offshoot, called Ansanm, which celebrates his Haitian roots by serving authentic Caribbean food. 

Viaud appeared to be adding to his Granite State culinary empire with Pavilion, releasing a new menu for the restaurant pretty similar to Greenleaf’s but with a distinctive, northern New Hampshire twist. After hearing from his publicist Laina Terry that this was all going down, I prepared to attend the restaurant’s soft opening and endure an offseason haul up to the ominously-foggy Lakes.

The Bees Knees cocktail in the foreground; a Maine Beer Company pale ale in the background.

About to undertake an exploit concerning the taste buds, I knew just the man to call. My most loyal readers (I know you’re out there somewhere) may remember Max Schoenfeld, aka Scoville, from our journey into the meaty underbelly of Kelly’s Roast Beef in Salem. Well, who else would I call upon in my hour of opportunity?

To refresh your memory, Scoville is a man with a big heart and an even bigger appetite. He’s traveled six continents; he has a nonpareil passion for foreign cuisine; and he’s the reigning 2022 Drift Collective Dumpling Eating Champion, dominating 39 dumplings in five minutes with an additional five dumplings in overtime.

The man is a beast — not to mention a top-flight photographer who would be able to capture the occasion from behind the lens. With Scoville on board, my gloomy Winnipesauke fine dining extravaganza kicked off to a smooth start.

We loaded into my Crosstrek and began our drive north to the Lakes Region . It wasn’t quite summer yet, but driving to the Lakes certainly made one yearn for those easy days of outdoor leisure. In the intervening 45 minutes we discussed some of our past shenanigans up on Winnipesaukee, none of them enough to compensate for the cold wind that propelled our sweet white chariot forward. Soon enough, though, those long-gone summer days would be back in full swing, and maybe Scoville and I would be enjoying them from a Pavilion window seat, sipping on locally brewed lagers, Hawaiian shirts unbuttoned to the navel.

We arrived in Wolfeboro with hungry stomachs and hungrier curiosities. I was more than eager to try Chef Chris’s food; I had heard nothing but good things, and from my research earlier that day, gleaned that Pavilion would be another farm-to-table ordeal guided by his expert insight. We got inside and ordered drinks — just water for Scoville, a Maine Beer Company pale ale for me — and awaited Laina’s arrival. The place had a tranquil, rustic ambiance, with dim, warm lighting, a subtle fireplace and plenty of dark exposed wood.

Given Pavilion’s South Main Street location, we could see the shores of Winnipesaukee beckoning to us in somber sublimity from just outside the window. For all my under-30 readers, it was quite a vibe; I was in my cottage-core era.

With Laina’s appearance, we buckled down into the menus and chose our prizefighters for the evening. As Chef Chris’s publicist, Laina had an extremely keen menu acumen and got us started with Parker House rolls — made by Chris’s wife, Emily Viaud, an accomplished pastry chef in her own right — and a New England cheese spread complete with brioche crostini, apple butter, Asian pear, honeycomb and almonds. The brioche crostini were like tiny pieces of crispy toast, and the apple butter went ridiculous paired with slices from the cheese spread, a sweet-and-salty taste explosion. The Parker House rolls held their own weight, puffy-and-pullable pieces of perfectly baked dough complemented by a roasted garlic and herb butter. The rolls were fluffy and golden-brown and warm, like a hug from the appetizer menu.

Conversation oscillated between Laina and Max’s mid-Atlantic roots and the intertwining vagaries of the PR and journalism industries. Laina enjoyed Pavilion’s take on a Bees Knees cocktail, and the bartender brought over another drink, which I think was their “Chai & Spice,” that Max tried. While I stuck to beer, the drinks looked exquisite — and with eight original cocktails on the menu, offered a solid selection to choose from.

Chef Emilee Viaud’s Parker House rolls alongside a roasted garlic and herb butter.

It was time to get into the thick of things. No more light fare and easy conversation — we had to roll our sleeves up, get our elbows dirty and do what we came to do. For small plates, we ordered the roasted beet trio, Spanish octopus and scallop crudo, and for large plates, zeroed in on the New York strip steak (me), pan-roasted duck breast (Scoville) and local mushroom risotto (Laina). The beets, featuring tahini, leek, smoked shoyu, wheatberries and scallion, were a gentle revelation; at once firm and soft, sweet and tart, with a crunch from the wheatberries and a freshness from the leeks, the dish tantalized in a showy-but-subtle array.

I had never really eaten beets before, but wow, were these tasty. They were delightfully light and full of flavor — a perfect small plate, in my opinion. And the octopus…oh, the octopus. Salsa macha lent a crunchy exterior, while orange slices provided a sweet counterbalance with basil pulling up the rear for a little added zing. The octopus itself was chewy and juicy and thin, just a wonderful little snack harvested from the ocean, reminiscent of the magic and mystery hiding in that vast, salty expanse; I may as well have been hanging off the back of a boat, wind whipping my salt-dried hair as I ripped into an orange piece of octopus leg. And right there on the ship’s deck, lying next to the fresh octopus, was the scallop crudo: fine cucumber slices, lightly sprinkled fennel, drizzled chili and green apple complementing the small chunks of white mollusk flesh, a really dazzling combination that checked all the boxes.

The roasted beet trio — at once firm and soft, sweet and tart, with a crunch from sprinkled wheatberries and a freshness from garnished leeks.

Before we dug into our large plates, I had to reflect on the experience thus far: As a broke 23-year-old completely green to fine dining, I was a little on edge, only because of my complete ignorance to the manners and rituals of the whole process. Midway into the meal, though, I couldn’t have felt more at ease; the staff was friendly and attentive, the energy was relaxing and rustic, and the food was approachable and delicious. I really had nothing to fear. Nobody was making fun of me for never having heard the word fennel before (well, Scoville may have mocked me a little bit, but that’s just a good sidekick keeping me grounded), Laina explained each dish and every ingredient in detail, and the waitstaff was happy to delve into further explanation whenever prompted.

It was their first day with a new menu, and they jovially checked their cheat sheets, admitting to not completely memorizing the bounty yet. The whole experience felt beautifully human; no judgments, just amiable energy. At one point Laina described Chef Chris’s method as “approachable fine dining,” which I couldn’t agree with more. As she said, people wore jeans to Pavilion; it was suited to the salt-of-the-earth vibe of the Lakes Region, but still offered premium dining for those hearty Granite Staters. A valiant mission in all respects.

The witching hour was upon us: My New York strip steak stared up at me, daring me to a meaty duel. Three cubes of meat lay on the plate, surrounded by cippolini, butternut squash funnels, parsnip, pepitas (aka pumpkin seeds) and a delicious jus. The steak, in all respects, was next level — a lightly blackened crisp on the crust, with a tender chewiness on the interior, dancing in tandem with crunchy pepitas, soft onions and slightly firm butternut.

Pavilion’s New York strip steak — an insanely-succulent large plate.

What else can I say? It was crazy. I loved every bite. Dipping each forkful in au jus brought me immense joy. I’m beside myself even thinking about it, conjuring the juicy squall of each mouthful in my mind’s eye to write this. Amazing.

Scoville devoured the duck breast, thin slices dusted with dukkah laid upon a bed of sunchoke, leek, apple and jus, and Laina let us try the risotto, a hearty dish with kale and sweet potato in the mix. Both offerings looked just as wonderful as the steak, meticulously prepared plates bursting with color and natural flavor.

After putting our heads down and doing away with the main courses, we decided on dessert: a rectangular slice of brûléed banana cheesecake and a dainty vanilla pâte sucrée. While the pâte sucrée was really good — the thin layering of the pastry crust via Chef Emily floored me — the cheesecake dominated the space. The coconut anglaise and white chocolate crémeux washed over my taste buds in an airy, delicious blend, and the meringue and raisins only elevated the texture profile.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the brûlée — that sweet, delicate sugar crisp topping the cheesecake ever so delectably. This was — and is — a mind-melting dessert. I had two bites, and my life will never be the same.

Pavilion is a great restaurant. The food is simple but inventive, delicious but accessible, by no means intimidating without sacrificing quality.

Scoville and I had a really wonderful evening, catching up, bombarding our taste buds, enjoying the ambience. All that’s left to do is try Chef Chris’s Haitian cuisine at Ansanm, and then, of course, return to Pavilion in the summer months — the warm wind billowing Scoville and my unbuttoned flower-print shirts open, swilling glasses of Chianti, taking a breather from the debauchery out on the glistening Lake Winni waters to soak in the moment.

One day. For now, warming up over plates of Spanish octopus and daydreaming of those blissful summer escapades isn’t a half-bad compromise. Make the trip to Wolfeboro to find out for yourself. You won’t regret it.

The brûléed banana cheesecake — one of the best desserts I’ve had the honor of devouring in my entire life.