DonLeon’s | Highlands NC

Written By: Luke Osteen | Issue: 2020/11 - November

In 1941, Grady Watts and Frank Ryerson composed Blue Champagne, the Jimmy Dorsey jazz mashup that’s gone through countless kaleidoscopic permutations over the decades. Through all those appropriations and all those singular performances, it’s maintained its touch of elegance and its playfulness, as strange and unexpected as its illusory bubbly subject.

And the tune was playing on an endless loop in my head as  my friends and I enjoyed a languid Friday night meal at DonLeon’s at The High Dive.

Let me explain.

DonLeon’s is a patio-food truck hybrid in downtown Highlands that’s just as unexpected and welcome as, well, a patio-food truck hybrid in downtown Highlands. 

The place is overseen by the chef, DonLeon, and his personality made his initial eponymous restaurant adjoining Farmer’s Market a cherished destination for Highlanders and in-the-know visitors. 

He’s the guy who makes the kitchen work, and it’s an absolutely irresistible show watching him working the stations, delivered with all the verve and aplomb of those plate spinners on The Ed Sullivan Show. (You can catch a more measured performance at Midpoint – God knows I’m a sucker for dazzling kitchen performances, sometimes to the chagrin of my dining accomplices.)

His truck companion is the unflappable Susan, and she plays straight man to his kitchen Falstaff, never missing a beat (and, let’s be honest, making everything work).

Of course, if the kitchen’s slammed and the pair are up to their armpits in alligators, you might as well take a seat and be treated to the ministrations of maitre ‘d Taylor, a natural raconteur and quick wit who truly enjoys chatting with and okey-dokeying his guests. 

See why I was thinking about a fizzy song, about a fizzy drink? There’s an undeniable energy to the place and, though we were dining on a Friday night at the far end of an exhausting week, we were soothed and cajoled and rejuvenated. 

That spirit was enhanced by the arrival of quarantine-liberated friends at an adjoining table. (Don’t worry, the tables are distanced and everyone wears a mask until they’re safely seated.) I know I’ve mentioned this in previous reviews this year, but the simple, profound experience of seeing friends and exchanging stories is a marvelous tonic for the grey droning that we’ve all been contending with. 

And that’s where the food comes in. Taylor delivered a trayful of surprises to our table – A Gyro, A Grown-Up’s Grilled Cheese, A Philly Cheese Steak, and Fish ‘n Chips. 

OK, Luke, what’s so surprising about those? (You’re kind of contentious today, aren’t you? Are you hungry? Visit DonLeon’s)

Well, the surprise is their preparation and their presentation. 

For instance, it’s easy to fall for sad American-ized Gyros that have been flensed of all wit and savor. In this instance, DonLeon is a traditionalist, going back to the Gyro’s Mediterranean roots with the traditional lamb and beef on a bed of romaine lettuce, tomato, onion, and cucumber, lavished with tzatziki sauce. Dazzling. 

Or think how Coleman Hawkins, with his sweet, soul-drenched sax, managed to entirely switch the tone of the performance of 

 “Blue Champagne

Purple shadows and blue champagne

With the echoes that still remain

I keep a blue rendezvous”

That breathtaking performance is mirrored by DonLeon riffing on a comfort food that’s been served in homes and diners across America for generations. The Grown-Up’s Grilled Cheese is a hearty blend of three cheeses, red onion tomato, and applewood bacon, served up on Grilled Rye.  

On my Fish ‘n Chips, Don Leon managed to wring changes out of this 400-year-old English staple with the simple substitution of a barbecue sauce instead of the standard malt vinegar. Who knew it’d take a taste of the South to bring the meal into the 21st century?

All of this was lubricated with generous refreshments from next door at The High Dive. Standouts were the Margarita, true blue and redolent of tropical tides in Costa Rica; and Michael’s Whiskey Ginger, or more accurately his Jameson’s and Ginger (although I’d always called it a Leprechaun). The addition of fine Irish Whiskey elevated this Old School Highball into some rich and strange, like, I dunno, Blue Champagne. 

After a long, languorous meal fueled by good food and lively conversation, I realized why the Rockola in my head had put an old Jimmy Dorsey tune on continuous play. This experience had its own elegant simplicity, served up with passion and a knowing wink and a deep indulgence that demands a return.