Executive Chef Scott Vosburgh was introduced to international cuisine while stationed on the aircraft carrier USS John F. Kennedy in Jacksonville, Florida.
photographs by Stephen Stinson
Location:
Azia Greenville
15 Market Point Dr.
Hours:
Mon-Thurs, 5-10 p.m
Fri-Sat, 5-11 p.m.
Sunday, 5-9 p.m.
Price of Dinner Entrées: $18-$39
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 To dine at Azia you must first get past its somewhat stoic exterior—a monument to contemporary concrete-steel-glass office design, in a parking lot off Woodruff Road. But once through the near-signless entrance, we were cordially greeted and whisked past a wall of molded glass into a hall of grand proportions—soaring ceilings, modern steel wall art, and circular
halogen lamp chandeliers dangling overhead—that seemed to heighten our senses with its minimalism, concentrating emphasis where it should be: on the food and service.
We were seated on the flipside of the busy bar at a semi-circular bank of booths overlooking the rest of the dining room—a curvilinear sushi bar, dotted with iridescent mosaic tiles. Most impressive are the high walls dappled in shades of aqua on Azia’s far wall. This calming underwater aura counters the otherwise industrial accents of brushed steel sculptures and fish-shaped mobiles, which hang above copper-toned concrete floors.
Attentive servers dressed nattily in black mandarin-style coats set out a quartet of menus for cocktails, wine, sushi, and entrées. Our server, Jeff, was professional and highly affable as he offered helpful suggestions when we reached an impasse at the appetizer choices.
Fueled by a refreshing mango mojito—one of the many expert cocktails the bar seemed to be cranking out throughout the evening—we opted for the odd sounding, but adventurous, “krunchy” tempura shrimp Thai tacos.
Judging from the tables around us, these items were favorites, along with large tiger shrimp cocktail and, of course, sushi. Indeed, the Thai tacos, served on a bed of delicate curly cabbage, provided a satisfying crunch followed by mountains of flavor—first savory, then sour, with a touch of sweet, and a bit of subtle spice that lingered on the tongue. Served four to a platter, these little gems were perfect for a party of two.
While we could have just come for the sushi—grand platters passing by looked gorgeous with creative flourishes from Philippine-born sushi chef Roy Diedos—we saved room for an entrée, but paid homage by ordering a flame roll, recommended by
our server.
This one wasn’t for the faint of heart.
True to its description, the beautifully presented roll offered shrimp tempura, cream cheese, spicy tuna, and spicy wasabi mayo topped with jalapeños. Quite lovely in its singeing heat, this sushi roll lacked only a hint of sweetness in the rice to counterbalance what seemed like a heavy hand with the salt, although Azia serves only reduced-sodium soy sauce.
For a future visit, we mentally noted the volcano and firecracker rolls, and the less explosive but equally interest-rousing surf ’n’ turf of king crab, Kobe beef, asparagus, and chef’s special sauce. Speaking of the chef, Scott Vosburgh was busy in the open kitchen—visible just over the sushi bar. A native of Clemson, Vosburgh was introduced to international cuisine when he was stationed on the aircraft carrier USS John F. Kennedy in Jacksonville, Florida.
While in the navy, he ventured to the Caribbean, Mediterranean, and Middle East. Later, he continued to train and work in restaurants in northeast Florida, until meeting Azia owner Peter Lieu.
Lieu has obviously encouraged Vosburgh in what the restaurant dubs “global fusion.” Caramelized shallot pirogies with filet of beef and jade pesto? Sure. Angus filet and lobster with a bacon brie knish roll, spinach roulade with a cognac soy au poivre? Well, why not?
We had heard raves about the Chilean sea bass, served on a bed of sautéed vegetable spaetzle, surrounded by a drizzling of truffled kabayaki lemon butter. Strands of fresh julienned carrots added a sweet touch to the fish, which was lightly crusted to succulent perfection.
Tucked underneath were tender emerald-green wilted spinach leaves and those delightful Austrian mini egg dumplings, made more interesting by sautéing rather than just boiling.
Most of the desserts looked simply too filling—from the candied bourbon apple bread pudding to caramelized pineapple upside down cake with Frangellico fosters sauce to a cappuccino mousse cake. This was one time when green tea ice cream or a trio of exotic sorbets would fit the bill more perfectly.
Our table adroitly crumbed, we leaned back, perused the wine menu of more than 150 listings, as well as sake, port, and cognac, and dreamed of another visit where the world meets on a plate.
—Constance E. Richards
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