MUSE: A Sad Stop on the Search for Great Italian

As part of our Lex Loci Delicious search for Charleston's best Italian restaurant, Casey and I took our people to visit Muse, a Mediterranean restaurant and wine bar tucked into a charming historic home on Society Street. While the restaurant identifies itself as Mediterranean rather than strictly Italian, enough of the menu leans into classic Italian cooking that it deserved a stop on our tour.

The setting is undeniably attractive. Muse occupies one of the old downtown homes that gives Charleston so much of its character. Parking is the usual downtown exercise in patience, although nearby garages make it manageable. Inside, the restaurant offers several intimate dining spaces alongside a lively wine bar that clearly has its own following. If you're looking for a quiet dinner, ask to be seated away from the bar, which can become quite loud.

The service, however, never matched the warmth suggested by the setting. Our server wasn't rude, just detached. Throughout the evening there was little of the welcoming hospitality that makes Mediterranean dining feel like you've been invited into someone's home. The restaurant also appears to serve large parties simultaneously, and the kitchen and front of house seemed stretched whenever that happened.

The wine list favors Old World selections without becoming intimidating. We enjoyed a perfectly respectable bottle of wine along with a dirty martini to begin the evening. Non-alcoholic options consist primarily of the expected sodas and teas. I would have loved to see a few creative Mediterranean-inspired mocktails.

The evening began on a much stronger note than it ended. The Sicilian meatballs were easily the star of the meal. Perfectly tender with an excellent blend of meats, they sat in a creamy tomato sauce that beautifully balanced the sweetness of the cranberries and the richness of the pine nuts. It's a combination that could easily have become gimmicky but instead felt thoughtful and harmonious. This is absolutely the appetizer to order.

The duck breast showed flashes of what the kitchen is capable of. The skin was properly crisp, but the meat itself was tougher than it should have been. The Madeira onions and fruit elements created an appealing sauce, although the pomegranate molasses leaned too heavily toward sweetness. I found myself wishing the kitchen had trusted the bright citrusy punch of the sumac more and the molasses a little less.

The tuna tartare was another success. The tuna was fresh and cut into generous chunks rather than overworked into mush. The Aleppo pepper added a pleasant warmth, although the tahini never really announced itself. Still, it was clean, fresh, and enjoyable.

Perhaps the biggest surprise among the starters was the pickled shrimp. This dish felt like Charleston shaking hands with the Italian Riviera. The shrimp retained their freshness while the pickling brought bright acidity. At first glance the peach salsa seemed like an odd pairing, but the citrus notes tied everything together and complemented rather than overwhelmed the shrimp.

Unfortunately, the entrées never lived up to the promise of the opening course. Casey described the tagliatelle Bolognese perfectly: "meh." It wasn't bad. It simply wasn't memorable. The ragù lacked the deep, slow-cooked richness that defines a great Bolognese. The pasta itself was acceptable but didn't have the texture or flavor of truly fresh pasta. Most surprising of all, it simply needed salt. That may sound like a small criticism, but when the fundamental seasoning is missing, every other flavor struggles to emerge.

The carbonara suffered from many of the same issues. Technically it was competently prepared, but the sauce drifted closer to Alfredo than a proper Roman carbonara built around eggs and cheese. Even with pancetta providing richness, the dish again felt strangely under seasoned. It was another perfectly edible plate that never became exciting.

The veal saltimbocca looked especially promising when it arrived. The portion was generous and beautifully presented. Sadly, appearance proved deceptive. The veal itself was tougher than expected, the Marsala sauce was too sparse to carry the dish, and the mound of polenta underneath had the dense consistency of modeling clay rather than the creamy texture that makes great polenta so comforting. Once again, everything desperately needed seasoning.

By this point we were hoping dessert might rescue the evening. Instead, the pomegranate trifle became our biggest disappointment. Structurally the dessert was assembled well, and the mascarpone itself was creamy and pleasant. Unfortunately, the pomegranate molasses was so aggressively bitter that we honestly wondered whether it had spoiled. Whether it was intentional or not, it overwhelmed every other component of the dessert. We found ourselves eating around the molasses simply to enjoy the cheese, which is never what you want from the final course of a meal.

Muse left me with mixed feelings because there is clearly talent in this kitchen. The menu is creative without trying too hard. Several starters are genuinely excellent, especially the outstanding meatballs and the bright, inventive, pickled shrimp. But somewhere between appetizers and dessert, the restaurant repeatedly stumbled over the same issue: restraint became timidity. Dish after dish arrived technically competent yet oddly under seasoned, leaving flavors muted where they should have been vibrant.

For our search for Charleston's best Italian, Muse doesn't rise to the top tier. It offers a charming setting, a thoughtful Mediterranean perspective, and a few genuinely good dishes, but the pastas lack the depth and confidence that define great Italian cooking. I'd happily return for cocktails, wine, and a table full of starters. Based on this visit, though, I'd leave the entrées to someone else.

Casey, my friend, our quest must continue...