In a bustling corner of the Neighborhood of the Arts, a restaurant has mastered the art of culinary democracy.
It’s a place where the burger arrives with a swagger—thick, juicy, and draped in melted cheddar and tangy Thousand Island dressing. Each bite is a delicious challenge to your composure, but you’ll be too blissfully content to care about the mess dripping off your hands.
I am, of course, talking about Edibles, a beloved local institution that’s been running for more than twenty-five years. Here, perfectly salty fries tempt you to abandon all notions of portion control while the burrata elicits audible “yesses” from neighboring tables.
We all need a neutral place to get together during the chaotic holiday season. A spot to share festive merriment with out-of-town family or friends we haven’t properly seen in years. The Friday night buzz fills the air, helping to dissolve any lingering awkwardness between folks reuniting after too much time apart.
The beauty of Edibles is its location. It’s perfect for those who want to park once and stroll to holiday favorites like the Museum and Science Center’s Holiday Bazaar, the George Eastman Museum, the University of Rochester’s Memorial Art Gallery, and even some dazzling holiday lights. After all, there is one of those rare spacious parking lots at the wide end of the building.
My first visit was a few years back, before a work event. It was a cozy space, yes, but more importantly, it was just steps away from a Fringe Festival venue—the perfect team preshow stop.
This meal was a little different. As a new mom, I’ve learned that when your husband gives you a night off, you don’t ask questions—you go. So, when I unexpectedly found myself free for the evening, I decided to swing by the Memorial Art Gallery for a little quiet time and to grab a bite to eat beforehand.
Edibles has definitely had a glow-up since the last time I popped in. The new bar area flows so smoothly into the spacious dining room that it feels like it’s always been a part of the city’s Flatiron Building, a landmark from the 1850s. The vibe perfectly blends laid-back and a little fancy, with polished quartz counters, tin ceilings, and beadboard details that just fit.
Inside, twenty-eight-year-olds with black-painted nails clink glasses with silver-haired octogenarians, and baseball caps sit comfortably next to sparkly culottes. The menu is largely to thank for that. The wide variety of dishes and drinks ensures there’s something for everyone, from adventurous eaters to those with more traditional preferences.
While I settled on a fizzy Aperol spritz ($12), the table beside me ordered spiced pear Old Fashioneds ($12) and Guinness ($6). Meanwhile, a couple on date night upped the sophistication with matching martinis ($12), each served with three perfectly plump green olives, as if straight out of a Bond film.
First came the warm rolls and butter. Good luck saying no to those. Even with my overzealous ordering, I had to cave.
The bonus of dining alone: the burrata ($17) was all mine. It was a glorious orb of creamy mozzarella crowned with basil pesto, tomato jam, and a balsamic drizzle, with toast neatly fanned around. Pro tip: Keep a roll on standby to mop up the pesto and balsamic because, let’s face it, crostini only go so far.
Next up was the restaurant’s take on chicken Milanese, dubbed the chicken de Medici ($22). I’ll admit I briefly questioned my life choices after ordering two entrées. But the panko-crusted chicken pounded thin and topped with a mountain of spicy arugula, creamy lemon vinaigrette, and hefty parm shavings felt more like a hearty dinner salad. I mentally gave myself a gold star for accidentally ordering something that almost seemed healthy.
All around the dining room, the MVP was the towering burgers ($18), stacked with thick ten-ounce Angus patties and hugged by burnished brioche buns. It was like every other table had one. Naturally, I had to return for, ahem, research purposes, and I can confirm that the bun holds firm—a rare and admirable feat for a burger this massive.
While carnivores might think Edibles is their personal playground, vegetarians aren’t left out in the cold like unwanted garnish. The vegan pesto rigatoni ($19) proves that dairy-free doesn’t mean flavor-free, and the quinoa black bean burger ($17) is so good that it’s making TripAdvisor reviewers question everything they thought they knew about plant-based patties.
Those who prefer trendier options might enjoy the caramelized brussels sprouts ($9) and a roasted beet-chevre salad ($14).
For my main-main course, I dove into the lobster ravioli ($31), best described as lobster mac and cheese turned up to eleven: plump ravioli stuffed with lobster mascarpone, drenched in a rich béchamel, accompanied by seared shrimp and tender claw meat. Luckily, cherry tomatoes brought enough acidity to balance the dish’s indulgent richness.
Reader, at this point, I was stuffed. I managed to eat half and vowed to take the rest home. My walk around the museum was shaping up to be a waddle.
A plate suddenly drops to celebratory cries of “Opa!” A salted caramel bread pudding arrives as a sweet finale at another table. I get the feeling this isn’t just dinner for those who come here.
As I shuffle out of Edibles, my belly happily complete and a to-go box of lobster ravioli clutched like treasure, I can’t help but smile. The warm glow of the restaurant lingers around me, a cozy buffer against the crisp Rochester night.
It’s not just about the food, though that’s certainly a star. It’s about creating a space where memories are made, awkward silences are filled with the clinking of glasses, and even the most diverse groups can find common ground over a shared plate of burrata.
I mean, where else can you see a guy in a baseball cap trading food recommendations with a couple dressed to the nines? Or watch diners with age gaps wider than the Grand Canyon order the same cocktail or perfectly salty fries?
As I fumble for my keys, still in a bit of a food coma (no regrets!), I realize that Edibles has pulled off some culinary magic trick. They’ve created a space where breaking bread isn’t just about stuffing your face (though I did plenty of that). It’s about creating a place where everyone, from your picky Aunt Mildred to your vegan friend Craig, can find their perfect bite.
In a world that often feels divided, there’s something beautifully unifying about that.
Edibles Restaurant & Bar
704 University Ave., Rochester
(585) 271-4910
ediblesrochester.com
This article originally appeared in the November/December 2024 issue of (585).
Views: 396
