A Seat at Sylvan Table

A micro-farm-to-plate experience

NESTLED WHERE YOU might least expect it, tucked behind fast food joints, a stone’s throw from the daily hustle, a micro-farm and the restaurant it feeds quietly flourish. This is Sylvan Table.

“If it were up to us, every single inch would be filled with something you can eat,” says Nicole Ryan, proprietor, pointing out that the farm’s three high tunnels can provide the restaurant with some of its fresh vegetables year-round. And more raised beds are rising throughout the space too.

From its grapevine entryway to its berm boasting asparagus and squash, Sylvan Table doesn’t waste any of its five acres, with most of the landscaping edible, multilayered with herbs, flowers and berries growing alongside desert false indigo, thrown in for both aesthetics and to build the soil. Even the outbarn’s rooftop is alive and growing. “I went down this rabbit hole when we were planning this whole thing,” Ryan says with a laugh.

Farmer Rick Rigutto beams with enthusiasm as he talks about the polyculture micro-farm.

“Sometimes my mind fast-forwards to when it’s all mature,” says Rigutto. “When this enters its full maturity the amount of edible food coming from this space—the farm and the landscape—will astound everyone.”

Rigutto harvests Japanese slicing cucumbers and red, ripe Amish paste tomatoes, to hand off to Executive Chef Christopher Gadulka, whose team will prepare them alongside a main dish.

That farm-to-plate experience has made Sylvan Table the talk of Oakland County’s culinary scene in its first year (and change), with reservations sometimes proving a challenge to nab (though Ryan reminds: bar and patio seating are first-come, first-served).

Ryan opened the restaurant in part because she loves to entertain. Reconstructing the centuries-old Maine barn was underway when COVID hit. Ryan and her husband, Tim, owner of Ryan Construction, were able to keep their own crews working. By the time the restaurant was completed, the world had reopened and people were hungry to dine out.

“We were planning for the worst and hoping for the best. It was remarkable how it worked out,” says Ryan, calling Sylvan Table a team effort. The menu is a collaboration blending Ryan’s Italian heritage and Gadulka’s training.

“My dad was from Italy and food was a big thing in my house,” says Ryan, who favors “fresh ingredients and kind of a minimalist way of cooking.”

While some Sylvan Table dishes are there to stay—always expect chicken, beef and fish options, plus housemade pasta and mushrooms supplied by Wolgast Mushrooms in Berkley—others are more seasonal, along with the sides, when the farm’s vegetables—and their nutrients—take center stage.

“We don’t peel a vegetable,” Gadulka says. “Carrots? We wash them. We’ll never do tweezer food. There aren’t too many contrived plates here.”

Still, Gadulka knows not to just put a carrot on a plate. His cooks need to be fulfilled, he says, along with Sylvan Table’s customers, of which there are plenty. The looming barn and property was built to entertain, he says.

“That’s what sets it apart from a lot of other Detroit-area restaurants,” says Gadulka, adding that while some may serve 60—80 meals a night, Sylvan Table’s numbers reach 300, 400 on weekend nights. “All the time.”

To cope with the pressure, Gadulka recently instituted four-day workweeks for his culinary crew of roughly 35. “I always feel the availability to be happy away from work increases your happiness at work.”

Ultimately, she approves everything that gets on the menu, which works for Gadulka: “Her palate’s exceptional.”

“Things happen organically, but nothing is left to chance,” says Gadulka. “We just like making good food.”