The bar takes center stage at Lenoir. It’s large and rectangular, with rounded corners lined with dandelion yellow bar chairs. The bar top is pearly white and adorned with leafy green plants, subtle lamps, and stacks of cookbooks by renowned southern authors like Edna Lewis and John Egerton. Dining tables encircle the bar with deep green tufted leather booths and lighter sage green chairs. A mix of bright white subway tile and shiplap walls are hung with old timey photos, tobacco sticks, and butterbean pans. The space embodies contemporary southern charm.

Some of the cookbooks stacked on the bar are those of five-time James Beard Foundation Best Chef Southeast semifinalist, cookbook author, PBS star, and restaurateur Vivian Howard. Lenoir is her second Charleston restaurant (the first being the bakeshop and casual eatery Handy + Hot), and it brings to the Lowcountry a cordial environment with food that spans the agricultural landscape of the south.

Start with a seasonal plate of sweet watermelon and cantaloupe ($13) with shaved parmesan, spicy pecans, and slivers of fresh jalapeno plus a drizzle of olive oil and saba (reduced, unfermented grape must). To the side is a creamy dollop of stracciatella, a soft, fresh cheese best known for taking up residence inside burrata. The dish introduces elements of sweet, savory, and heat that pair quite well with the sweet and smoky “Above Your Raisin’” ($13), a wonderful mezcal cocktail with blood orange, lime, and a chili salt rim.

There’s plenty of other good stuff coming from behind the bar, like the “Six Toed Cat” ($13), an ode not only to the sugarless Hemingway daiquiri but also to its namesake Ernest Hemingway’s six toed polydactyl cat. This version (the drink, not the cat) uses the darker Plantation pineapple rum in place of light rum, and the addition of pineapple juice and a single cube of coconut water ice makes a refreshing treat.

The pillowy ricotta dumplings ($14), gnudi-like, impart equal parts sweet and savory, with the help of smoked South Carolina peaches, crispy bits of pork belly, and crushed almonds. Each spoonful requires a bit of each element to round out the bite.

Southern elements are front and center on the Lenoir menu, but it’s the subtle influence of Asian ingredients in most dishes that really makes the food stand out.

Consider, for instance, the fried collard greens ($6)—stemless cuts of leaves flash fried to create crisp green chips seasoned with salt and furikake. These are not-so-distant cousins of the kale chip, but what sets the collard version apart is the burst of umami delivered by a single Asian ingredient—furikake. A staple in my own pantry, furikake is a Japanese seasoning consisting of core ingredients like dried fish, sesame seeds, chopped seaweed, and salt, though there are many variations. The collards are an ample snack, one that can easily compliment a few drinks at the bar. The addictive chips come in a medium sized bowl in a portion meant for sharing.

East meets South again in the crudo of big eye tuna ($16), which is arranged in a bowl with slices of fresh jalapeno, julienned watermelon radish, and grapefruit segments wading in a shallow pool of sweet and sour yet savory nuoc cham balanced with a dab of buttermilk. A few crispy sheets of puffed rice perch on top.

Do yourself a favor and order the air-dried sausage ($14), an exemplary specimen of an Eastern North Carolina staple bound with Asian expression. The plump, juicy pork sausage, which is made in house, has hints of lemongrass and a touch of shrimp paste that make it a sausage like no other. Below it is a bed of herb relish that’s akin to a sweet chow chow spiced with turmeric, and on top is a garnish of pickled onion, cilantro, and vibrant watermelon radish. If there is a dish that defines Lenoir, this is it.

With hints of lemongrass and shrimp paste, the air dried sausage captures the essence of Lenoir (Jonathan Boncek)

Much of this fresh perspective comes from resident executive chef Tyson Detzler, who hails from The Obstinate Daughter on Sullivan’s Island and previously worked with Howard at her flagship restaurant, Chef & The Farmer, in Kinston, North Carolina. Detzler, who runs the kitchen when Howard is back in Kinston, brings his Japanese heritage to the table and offers unique variations on Howard’s southern-rooted dishes.

That influence goes on and on. There’s sweet corn puree laced with turmeric that blesses the pan seared swordfish ($28). There’s the tangy gochujang slaw ($8) that lends a trace of heat, only to be balanced by the sweetness of South Carolina peaches.

Sweet corn puree laced with turmeric blesses the pan seared swordfish at Lenoir (Jonathan Boncek)

If you’re picking a single side, make it the succotash ($9), a colorful medley of farro verde, soft field peas, crisp kernels of sweet corn, and a more traditional eastern Carolina diced air dried sausage, which Howard sources from a country butcher in Goldsboro, North Carolina. A touch of heat and the balanced acidity of turmeric curry make the dish.

Lenoir is located at 68 Wentworth Street in downtown Charleston, just a half block away from the bustling shopping district on King Street. The space is technically part of the Renaissance Charleston Historic District Hotel, but other than a set of glass doors that lead to the hotel restrooms, it stands apart on its own.

The interior of the restaurant is not big by any means, but it never feels congested or cluttered, even when most of the seats are occupied. If they’re experiencing a staffing shortage (as most Charleston restaurants are these days), it was never apparent during my visits, for the service did not skip a beat.

It’s very likely your server will recommend the gargantuan pork chop ($35)—a cut fit for kings. The tender, uber thick chop glistens with bits and drippings of sweet and pungent peach mostarda, a wonderful sweet pickled peach with mustard and red onions. Atop it are a couple of savory crispy pork rinds. This is a plate you’ll want to lick clean, or at least use the sweet, soft buttermilk rolls (2 for $4) to sop up everything on it.

Lenoir's gargantuan pork chop is a cut fit for kings (Jonathan Boncek)

A few dishes fail to impress. The cornmeal fried catfish filets ($23) are tasty in their own right, but the richness of the inordinately thick sweet potato and miso puree overpowers what could be a beautiful dish. The summer squash pudding with fontina cheese and pickles ($10) was reminiscent of cheesy casseroles imposed at neighborhood block parties—a decent bite, but not very memorable.

The ever changing plate of “veggies of the moment” ($13), however, can’t be missed. Recently it was a mishmash of roasted summer squash, carrots, red onion, cherry tomatoes, and fennel topped with fried okra. I hope for your sake that you get to try the smashed roasted eggplant that lines the bowl, an unforgettable garlicky treat that I could snack on for days.

A beer and a patty melt make for fine bar dining at Lenoir (Jonathan Boncek)

Suffice it to say, the majority of what Lenior does it does very well. It’s a nice addition to the Charleston dining landscape, one that brings a fresh perspective on southern fare. The dining room is fit for a full multi-course evening experience, while the bar offers a promising gathering space for locals to enjoy smokey sweet blueberry chicken wings ($12) and a 32°/50° kolsch or one helluva patty melt sandwich ($16). The choice is yours.