Farm Fresh

What I loved most about the braised Berkshire pork tenderloin — served with roasted red peppers and mild wilted mizuna (Japanese mustard greens) — were thick chunks of bacon that gave a smoky depth to the slightly sweet honey and plum glaze. Ashley Farms Piedmont "Label Rouge" chicken (isn't that provenance a mouthful?) came with a chunky helping of roasted turnips and apples, made savory by a roasted garlic purée.

I wish I had saved more room for dessert. Just a bite of the flourless chocolate soufflé, with a pile of cinnamon-sugar apples and a scoop of vanilla ice cream, jump-started that part of my brain that makes me giddy for chocolate, steak, or red wine. It was probably going overboard to order a cheese plate, too, but the selection was impressive, and my friends murmured in appreciation when the waiter brought it out. I tried Purple Haze, a creamy goat cheese infused with lavender, a sharp, nutty aged Monterey Jack, and a smooth, mild aged Gouda, artfully plated with stripes of wine reduction and honey.

That particular night, we were sitting outside at a candlelit table, watching the full moon rise above the pecan trees. We could hear people singing opera music at a private party nearby, and at one point, I could tell guests were approaching the restaurant because the bright peal of a woman's laughter came from the shadows. Then — I kid you not — a black cat scooted across the lawn.

There's no better place to celebrate fall in Phoenix than at Quiessence.