Driving to Cornelius

I like driving up to Cornelius, the back way, up Spencer Mountain instead of the interstate. It’s like driving through the twentieth century.

There’s the beautiful property above, and old cemeteries with stone fences, beautiful parks, gorgeous river views, an old Hershey’s ice cream truck that appears to be parked in front of a Baptist church, although it’s really at an ice cream parlor not visible from my approach. It charms me all the way to the marrow of my soul to take this secret passage up the mountain to the lake.

Then there’s Cornelius itself, the old-growth oaks, the antebellum architecture, the lake. But that’s not why I drive up to Cornelius every few weeks. I do it to go to the New York Butcher Shoppe and Wine Bar.

The first time I went was about a year and a half ago to see Tim, who broke my heart when be left the restaurant where I worked with him, in an historic uptown hotel. In retrospect, I should have left when he did, but I stuck around for another year, and now I’m here instead of working in a restaurant as my side hustle.

What to say about Tim. Brilliant is the first word that comes to mind. He’s cute, too, with eyes that will drown you if you’re not a strong swimmer. And sharp, with a laser wit, quick and on point. That’s how he broke my heart: he took his banter away, and we had absolutely top shelf banter. It was scathing, sarcastic, and made my soul sing with joy. But back to the brilliant—not only was he a pioneer in the farm-to-table movement who built relationships with local farms that he sustains to this day, but he’s also been extremely successful with medical cooking, probably saved lives during the pandemic. And then there’s his steak sauce, which is a grubby term for this nectar that turns a steak into a feast for the gods. I have no idea what he puts in it, but I’ve seen people drink it. Proper ladies in pearls with nice handbags, no lie.

So my husband and I got in the habit of going to see Tim when we want a steak—prime cuts, and the mushrooms are to die for. We got to know Shannon, who usually served us, and we absolutely adore her. Then Ari started working there, and she and I really hit it off. The personal service is part of what makes going here an experience instead of just a meal. Talking with the staff is one of the highlights of the experience. For the past year or so, I’ve been taking my tarot cards with me when I go, and if they aren’t busy, I read Ari and Shannon’s cards and tell them funny stories about working with their boss, Tim.

The menu gets updated seasonally, and right now, the pork chop with mashed sweet potatoes and charred cauliflower is stupid good. The other great thing is that I always meet the most interesting people—artists, techy folks, teachers, lawyers, etc., an absolute smorgasbord of diversity—at the bar and have the best conversations about everything from sports and politics to art and literature. And always jokes and lots of laughter. There’s a genuinely good vibe in the restaurant, which has fantastic outdoor space with sofas and tables. It’s friendly for all ages, the food is top-notch, the service can’t be beat, and there’s magic in the air. Nothing in this world is like it.

If you find yourself in Cornelius, NC, do yourself a favor and head over to the New York Butcher Shoppe & Wine Bar. You’ll have a great meal, amazing service, and meet wonderful people. I don’t normally go against the Marshall Tucker Band, but unless there’s no way around it, don’t take the highway. Slow down, take a drive through the past, and savor every delicious moment of life.