“EVERY MEAL SHOULD tell a story,” chef Levi Kinney says as he sets out plates of succulent, tender red aguachile in the tiny Tasting Room of Fishers Test Kitchen, where the concept was originally launched. The guests have reserved one of 10 seats at Bóveda, an intimate, twice-weekly dining experience that the longtime rugby player from Cathedral High School and Wabash College kicked off early last autumn before relocating to a new home.
The lightly cured, almost silky shrimp sitting atop a tangy toss of charred red cabbage curtido with pickled Fresno chiles aren’t just a first course. They tell of Kinney’s time studying abroad in Spain to better what he calls his “horrible” Spanish and a rugby tour in Argentina, Chile, and Uruguay, where he spent his days off falling under the spell of flavors he’d never tasted in the Midwest. They also tell of his unlikely journey from a hardscrabble childhood in a trailer park in Jackson, Michigan, to operations director at the restaurant incubator on the northeast side, with stops at Michelin-starred restaurants along the way. And they tell of his ambition to fuse classic French techniques with world flavors to create refined yet soulful dishes.
Since spring of 2021, Kinney has operated Gordito’s Rust Belt Tacos & Tortas, also at Fishers Test Kitchen, where brisket and pork belly burnt end tacos pay homage to the fare Mexican immigrants ate while working in Midwestern factories. But landing his own concept was the culmination of a culinary odyssey with plenty of twists and turns, including early jobs as a “proud fry cook” at Claddagh Irish Pub, multiple positions at Hyde Park Prime Steakhouse, and bartender at Sun King Brewery. From these humble beginnings, Kinney, who gained his kitchen know-how entirely on the line, was lucky enough to stage at Washington, D.C., legends Bresca and Jônt, which hold one and two Michelin stars, respectively. In 2019, he made a short-lived bid to own and operate Moe & Johnny’s, the beloved SoBro watering hole, a part of his story and a legal snarl he may prefer to leave in the past. “The cards just didn’t fall in our favor,” Kinney says.
The sheer diversity of Kinney’s kitchen experience made his dinners at Bóveda all the more enjoyable for their seamless flow and chill vibe, commitment to regional ingredients, and vibrant plating. And there’s just enough storytelling from the unassuming Kinney, who never steals the show. He speaks lovingly, for instance, of a humble-sounding plate of “carrots and beans” on a mid-November menu, which includes some of the last Romano beans of summer, preserved to use in colder months. He flavors them gently with the tannic sweetness of tamarind and pairs them with robust roasted rainbow carrots and a knockout sauce of ginger, apple, turmeric, and coconut milk, flavors that lean more Asian than Latin American. A crackly, light-as-air square of coca bread, a focaccia-like bread popular in Catalan, comes topped with Honeycrisp apples, a nod to Southern Michigan, and earthy rosemary. With a quenelle of partially cultured butter, it’s a dreamy intermezzo.
While the Test Kitchen’s private table was meant to feature a revolving cast of local chefs and upstarts for private meals and cooking classes, the fact that the space is somewhat underused led Kinney to brand it and upgrade the lighting, seating, and service pieces last summer. The small staff—including sous chef Robert Parsons, another rugby player from Brookville, Indiana, whom Kinney “saved from a warehouse job”—learned to do everything within the tight confines to make diners feel at home. The longer the meal progressed, the more diners can see the science of food at work in dishes with intricate components. A chicken thigh, for instance, gets deboned, stuffed with a rich panade of chorizo and sourdough and stored in refrigeration under a fan that dries the skin to ensure a crackling crispness, especially when brushed with fat under high convection heat for the last few minutes. It’s a dish that’s inspired by Kinney’s time apprenticing in the D.C. dining scene, though he dresses his with Brussels sprouts spiced with dried chiles, seasonal acorn squash, and an aromatic chicken jus reduction.
Similarly, a prime ribeye has its well-marbled cap, or spinalis muscle, removed from the tender eye so neither part overcooks and diners get a taste of two sides of the steak, both perfectly rare and melting. A stately potato croquette, a smear of classic Spanish romesco, and a lush pan sauce complete the elegant dish you won’t see in a steakhouse.
Occasionally, Kinney’s desire to emphasize constituent flavors gets the best of a creation, as in a gazpacho-like golden beet and butternut salmorejo inspired by ones he had in Andalusia, though the bracing tartness of sherry vinegar dominates. And while a bit of the wow factor of his Basque cheesecake’s well-browned exterior is lost in presentation, Kinney makes up for it with a judiciously spiced pear compote, a maple–white chocolate ganache, and welcome crunchy bits of a cinnamon tuile. And his final story. “The tuile recalls cinnamon toast,” Kinney says, “one of the ‘struggle meals’ we made in Michigan when we didn’t have much and wanted something sweet.” Kinney has since announced plans for a freestanding location for Bóveda, but right out of the gate, he found a sweet spot to showcase both his culinary prowess and his roots, which make a delicious, inspiring pair.
Vibe
Latin-inspired small plates
Tasting Notes
Chef’s kitchen dinners featuring Spanish and Latin flavors with seasonal Midwestern ingredients and classic French techniques
Must-Order
A regularly changing menu of meticulously composed dishes such as preserved summer Romano beans with charred rainbow carrots, a prime ribeye with the cap cooked separately to temp, and Basque cheesecake with mulled pears and a cinnamon toast–inspired tuile for dessert
