Not too long ago, serial entrepreneur Jonathan Krieger was a die-hard New Yorker. “Me, live in New Jersey? Not in a million years,” he recalls.
But the pandemic had other ideas. In 2021, Jon, his wife Julia and two sons “wrenched ourselves from Manhattan” to settle in Tenafly. The verdant Bergen County borough proved a one-in-a-million hometown for the Kriegers. “We fell in love,” Krieger raves. “Tenafly is beautiful, unspoiled, and so close to the city.” (Plus, it supposedly houses a friendly ghost; stay tuned.)
His family was warmly welcomed, but he felt that Tenafly lacked one thing: a downtown hub that brings residents together. “There was no restaurant where you come with your family, run into your neighbors and get into spontaneous conversations with strangers,” he says. “Creating that community magnet became my mission.” He already had years of success conceiving and opening consumer businesses, like Manhattan’s Bluestone Lane cafés and Englewood’s instantly famous Fat Choy eatery. But in Tenafly, Krieger encountered a “don’t-rock-the-boat attitude” from the powers that be. His solution? He got himself elected president of the Chamber of Commerce. Slowly but surely, the boat was rocked, and he got the green light to forge Spring House, which opened this May.
Krieger named the restaurant to conjure “life and home, because my family’s life is now so rooted in Tenafly, and because Spring House was in fact a home.” And quite a home at that: Built by the Demarests and their Lyle family branch in the 1790s, the Demarest-Lyle House is Tenafly’s oldest home, and is honored on the National Register of Historic Places.
The poshly yet playfully reimagined three-story stone mansion is a pleasure to relax in. Its quirky original layout harbors varied dining and drinking environments—such as two gracious, contemporary-chic dining rooms, the Art Deco Lyle Lounge in a seductive garret, and a midcentury modern bar. Outdoor dining beckons, too, on the shaded porch, tree-lined patio and exuberant beer garden. Throughout Spring House, genteel, welcoming staff keep guests comfortable and cared-for.
Culinary director Pasquale “Paco” Frola’s passion and principles are evident in his delightful Mediterranean menu. (Lunch service kicks off in September.) The native Neapolitan chef is known to Bergen County diners from his stint at Sofia in Englewood.
At Spring House, Frola has free rein in the kitchen. “I’m able to serve the world’s very best ingredients in ways that are a rediscovery of food,” he says. “I don’t do what other chefs do.” These are not mere boasts; Frola’s dishes are often in a class by themselves, uncontrived and bursting with honest flavor. I was dazzled by his meat and cheese board (often an afterthought at restaurants). But here, it’s a tasting tour of Italy and Spain’s most rare artisanal cheeses and succulent salumis and paper-thin hams. A memorable bar meal could consist of the tasting board alongside a couple of swooningly delectable cocktails.
But there’s more to dig into: Frola’s meaty octopus with perky Calabrian peppers; his perfectly composed homemade pasta dishes; his steak frites or herb-laden, crisp-skinned roast chicken. There’s a kids’ menu, too. And kid or not, you’ll want your own order of the chef’s sensational S’mores dessert, with oozy toasted marshmallows on a bed of Italian Nutella. And if you choose to linger, you’ll find that the entire restaurant joins in a communal conversation, joking and table-hopping freely.
One regular Spring House guest notes another aspect of the place’s aura: the Demarest-Lyle House’s lady ghost. “A female ghost is a constant in the house’s history,” Krieger confirms. In this century’s aughts, he says, a daycare business was set there. “The children felt her strongly. Some saw her, heard her, even spoke with her. Some of the adults did, too,” he says. “They all said the ghost was very polite and wanted to be around people. They thought she might be Julia Lyle, the young mistress of the house who was widowed in the early 1900s.”
“Julia’s husband was John Lyle,” he continues. “My wife’s name is Julia. Julia and John; Julia and Jon. Unbelievable, but true.” He adds, with a sense of wonder, “Spring House was meant to be.”
91 West Clinton Avenue, Tenafly; 201-353-0080
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