Vermont Spot Serving Seasonal American Dishes That Celebrate Local Flavor

United States
By Nathaniel Rivers

Tucked just off the waterfront, Hen of the Wood in Burlington channels Vermont’s fields, forests, and farms into soulful seasonal plates. The room glows with woodsy charm, while the menu changes with the day’s best catch and harvest.

Every detail, from the crackle of the hearth to the snap of a garden carrot, feels intentional and alive. Settle in and let the Green Mountain pantry tell its story course by course.

Wood-Fired Oyster Starter

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

Briny oysters arrive hissing from the wood fire, draped in herb butter that melts into the shell. Breadcrumbs toast to a delicate crunch, catching smoke and sea in one bite.

Lemon wedges wait nearby, brightening the edges without stealing the show.

A faint whisper of hardwood lingers, giving the oysters depth rather than heaviness. Seasonal herbs add Vermont’s garden voice, subtle and fresh.

The dish feels both coastal and inland, like lake wind meeting forest trail.

Portions encourage sharing, though it is easy to guard a favorite shell. Pairing with a crisp local cider unlocks more minerality and a gentle apple lift.

This opener sets a tone of restraint, clarity, and craft.

Heirloom Beet Salad with Cultured Cream

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

Heirloom beets arrive roasted until tender, sliced into jewels that glisten on cool stoneware. A tangy cultured cream softens their earthiness without muting it.

Toasted walnuts bring warmth and crunch, while a faint maple note nods to place.

Each bite moves from sweet to tart to nutty, balanced by a measured salt. Microgreens and pickled stems provide snap and brightness.

The presentation reads like a landscape study, simple lines with precise color.

Seasonality drives the varieties on the plate, shifting textures as harvests change. A dry Vermont white wine mirrors the salad’s mineral backbone.

This is comfort and clarity in equal measure, best savored slowly.

Local Cheese Board Selection

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

Vermont cheeses arrive at perfect temperature, aromas blooming just as the board hits the table. Honeycomb glistens beside crisp apple slices and housemade crackers.

Each wedge tells a different farm story, from grassy freshness to cellar depth.

Textures swing from fudgy to crystalline, inviting small bites and quiet comparisons. A smear of honey rounds sharper edges, while apple keeps the palate clean.

Nothing feels crowded, leaving space for a thoughtful pace.

Staff guide selections with gentle precision, aligning profiles with the evening’s mood. A pour of local saison lifts nutty notes and adds gentle bubbles.

The board turns into a map of the state, traveled with knife and curiosity.

Roasted Carrot and Hazelnut

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

Roasted carrots arrive charred at the edges and sweet at the core, glistening with brown butter. Hazelnuts lend a toasty crunch that echoes the hearth.

A hint of vinegar wakes the dish, lifting the richness without crowding it.

Herbs from nearby farms thread a fresh line through the sweetness. The carrots carry soil memory, concentrated by fire and time.

Portioning encourages sharing, though the last carrot often stirs quiet negotiation.

Brown butter aromas settle into the room, comforting and familiar. A light red from Vermont vineyards syncs with caramelized edges.

The plate reads minimalist but eats like a small celebration.

Mushroom Toast with Farm Egg

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

Thick bread lands with a crunch, its edges kissed by the grill. Wild mushrooms tumble across the surface, glossy with pan juices.

A farm egg settles on top, yolk ready to run and soften everything beneath.

Wood smoke whispers through the mushrooms, deepening forest flavors. A swipe of creamy sauce tethers the toast without heaviness.

Salt and acid hold hands, letting the fungi stay center stage.

Knife meets crust, yolk flows, and the toast becomes silk and crackle. Paired with a malty beer, the dish turns earthy and round.

It is a centerpiece disguised as a starter, satisfying yet nimble.

Dayboat Fish with Seasonal Greens

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

A fillet arrives with skin rendered glass-crisp, flesh opaque and tender. Seasonal greens drift around it, vivid and barely wilted.

A restrained beurre blanc ties sea and garden with quiet richness.

Lemon brings focus, never loud, just clear and bright. The fish tastes of salt air and good timing.

Greens shift weekly, echoing tides of Vermont’s fields and markets.

Portioning feels generous but not heavy, encouraging a slow pace. A mineral white wine clicks into place, highlighting maritime notes.

This plate shows confidence in sourcing and patience at the stove.

Hand-Cut Pappardelle with Lamb Ragù

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

Wide ribbons of pappardelle cradle a slow-cooked lamb ragù that hums with herbs. The sauce clings just enough, leaving silk between each fold.

Pecorino falls like snow, adding salinity and bite.

The lamb tastes clean and patient, simmered until tenderness meets structure. Tomato brightness steadies the richness, while rosemary whispers rather than shouts.

Every forkful alternates chew, sauce, and fragrance in steady rhythm.

Heat from the bowl rises, inviting a thoughtful pause between bites. A medium-bodied red from nearby hills frames the savory core.

Comfort is the message, delivered with restraint and craft.

Crispy Pork with Cider Glaze

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

Crisp-edged pork gives way to succulent interior, lacquered in a bright cider glaze. The reduction concentrates orchard sweetness with a tangy finish.

Charred onions deepen the savory base and add a smoky counterpoint.

Each slice balances crunch, fat, and high notes of apple. The glaze shines without stickiness, leaving fingers almost clean.

A whisper of mustard shows up late, sharpening the edges.

Served in a hot skillet, the aroma arrives before the plate. A dry cider pairing snaps everything into harmony.

This is Vermont comfort made focused and agile.

Grilled Chicken with Herb Pan Sauce

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

Juicy chicken arrives with a golden sear and confident grill marks. An herb pan sauce pools beneath, glossy and green.

Roasted potatoes and wilted greens flank the bird, comforting but composed.

The chicken carries smoke and rosemary in equal measure. Sauce layers tarragon, parsley, and a citrus spark that keeps things lifted.

Salt is measured, letting the herbs stay present.

The plate feels familiar while landing with quiet precision. A textured white wine or light pilsner ties the herbs to the grill.

It is a weeknight dinner dressed for a downtown evening.

Vermont Grass-Fed Steak

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

Steak arrives sliced and blushing, with a well-seasoned crust that crackles. A knob of herb butter slides across the surface, pooling into juices.

Crispy potatoes and grilled scallions share the plate, savory and direct.

Grass-fed character shows in mineral depth and clean finish. The cook lands right at medium-rare, tender yet lively.

Butter and char create a handshake between field and fire.

A peppery red amplifies the steak’s corners without overpowering. Portions satisfy while leaving room for a sweet finish.

The dish honors classic cravings with careful sourcing and clear execution.

Maple-Glazed Root Vegetables

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

Root vegetables tumble across the plate, caramelized at every edge. A restrained maple glaze brings shine and a gentle forest sweetness.

Thyme whispers through the warmth, making each bite feel grounded.

Carrot, parsnip, and turnip trade textures like a conversation. Salt and acid counter the maple, keeping the dish agile.

Nothing sticks or cloys, just clean glaze meeting roasted depth.

As seasons shift, varieties rotate, but the spirit remains steady. A nutty brown ale leans into the caramel notes with ease.

This side can quietly steal the show from richer mains.

Foraged Mushroom Entrée

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

A medley of foraged mushrooms sears to deep gold, edges crisp and tender inside. Herb oil drips along the plate, shining green against earthy browns.

A bed of creamy grains anchors the fungi without stealing focus.

Flavors stack gently: nutty, woodsy, and a touch of garlic. The textures shift with each forkful, from velvet to snap.

Seasoning stays restrained, trusting the forest to speak.

Steam rises, carrying cedar and soil memory from the pan. A light Pinot Noir brushes against the dish like silk.

This entrée defines the restaurant’s name and heart in one plate.

Cider-Brined Roast Chicken for Two

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

A cider brine lays quiet groundwork for a deeply seasoned roast chicken. Skin crisps to glass, shattering under the knife with a soft hush.

Pan jus gathers herbs and apple notes into a savory pool.

Carving reveals juicy meat that holds structure, not mush. Sides shift with the market, from greens to roots.

The shareable format builds an easy rhythm across the table.

A bright, orchard-driven cider mirrors the brine and keeps bites lively. Steam and aroma drift, turning the dining room intimate.

It is simple, generous, and perfectly Vermont.

Buttermilk Panna Cotta with Berries

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

Panna cotta trembles with a gentle wobble, tasting clean and tangy from buttermilk. Local berries spill color and juice around the edges.

A light syrup and lemon zest keep the finish lifted.

Texture sits between satin and cloud, never dense. Sweetness stays modest, letting fruit drive the moment.

Each spoonful feels like a palate reset after savory courses.

Portioning welcomes sharing without shorting a sweet tooth. A splash of sparkling wine sharpens the berry perfume.

The dessert closes the night with calm rather than fanfare.

Maple Cremeux and Shortbread

© Hen of the Wood – Burlington

Maple cremeux arrives glossy and soft, carrying deep sugarbush perfume. Shortbread crumbles offer a buttery snap that anchors the silk.

Whipped cream floats on top, barely sweet and feather light.

The maple tones lean caramel and smoke rather than candy. Every spoonful shifts from cool cream to sandy crunch.

Salt sneaks in at the end, sharpening flavor like a lens.

The portion lands right where richness meets restraint. Coffee or an amaro locks in the dessert’s toasty edges.

It tastes like late fall in Vermont translated into texture.