All of this past fall and the holidays proved a very busy and stressful time for my husband and me, so we were more than happy to spend most of January just hunkered down at home, catching our breath and catching up on shows on streaming services. That does get old after a while, though, so as the days have slowly grown longer and the first signs of spring have appeared, we’ve started making a few forays out of our burrow and shaking off the winter blahs.

We started out with one of our old favorites, Gogi’s Restaurant in historic Jacksonville, Oregon. During the warmer months the small town is crowded with visitors in the area to take in the plays at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in Ashland or a concert at the outdoor amphitheater at the Britt. But on this chilly, dark Thursday evening, the town’s 1800s storefronts were quiet, and only half of the restaurant’s tables were taken.

We keep coming back to Gogi’s because the food is perennially wonderful (and beautifully presented); the service friendly, attentive but not intrusive; and the ambience congenial and welcoming. The menu changes somewhat with the season but always provides something for everyone: vegan and vegetarian options, seafood (fresh from the Oregon coast), meat and poultry items. My biggest difficulty arises from the fact that nearly everything tempts me: the intriguing starters, which this evening ranged from duck prosciutto-wrapped grilled asparagus to pan-steamed clams with the house chorizo in a white wine and caper broth; the salads, always dressed perfectly with beautifully flavored dressings; and eight to ten generously portioned mains. So difficult to choose!

Our choices usually — but not always — are somewhat dictated by the wine we’ve brought to have with our meal. This is not to say Gogi’s doesn’t have a good wine selection; it certainly does have some great wines . . . and a fine cocktail menu, too. It’s just that we have literally hundreds of bottles at home that need to be consumed and are happy to pay the reasonable corkage fee to help whittle down the inventory. (We always insist on sharing a glass or two with our server and the chef, giving them the chance to try a wine not on their menu and perhaps from a region or producer unfamiliar to them.) This evening we’d brought along a rich 2011 Corliss red blend from the Walla Walla Valley in Washington.

After we’d made our dinner selections, our server, Matt, brought us the complimentary housemade (and still warm and fresh) sourdough bread with a basil pistou for dipping. Accompanying them was a perfect amuse bouche: a housemade black salt sourdough cracker topped with a romesco mousse dotted with three balsamic pearls, perched like caviar atop the mousse. As always, I had to remind myself to stick to just one slice of bread to save room for the main course!

Next came our opening course: Harry chose the soup de jour, a hearty, savory tomato with beef broth, while I chose the apple spice salad, a large plate of mixed greens, crisp slices and chunks of apple, candied walnuts, blue cheese and a just-right honey dijon dressing. It could easily have served two; a bowl of the soup and this salad would have made a splendid meal on their own. Maybe next time!

Harry’s entrée was perfectly cooked pan-seared salmon atop roasted mushroom risotto with asparagus and a preserved lemon butter sauce. It tasted as good as it looks: .  I chose the braised lamb shank, a very rich, savory dish which included bourbon maple grits, braised cabbage and arugula pesto. I managed to tackle about half of it and enjoyed the rest at home the next day. The meat was so tender, and the grits had a wonderful flavor, but, as I said, it was extremely rich.

Another reason I took some of my entrée home was because I knew I wanted to check out the dessert options. These are always delicious and works of art, with selections including a housemade ice cream and/or sorbet, a cheesecake and some sort of decadent chocolate concoction. I shocked my husband by bypassing the triple chocolate brownie mousse cake (after that rich meal, I just couldn’t go there) and chose instead the day’s cheesecake, a citrus one that did prove refreshing, creamy and light with bright bursts of citrus in every bite. It was served in a squat little canning jar with chunks of blood orange, grapefruit and orange on top with a light syrup.  On the plate sat a generous dollop of whipped crème frâiche, also infused with a zesty tang, as well as three little meringue bites that fizzed with a lemony burst as they dissolved in my mouth, reminiscent of Pop Rocks. It provided the perfect conclusion to a fabulous meal.

— Patty Vanikiotis, associate editor/copy editor