
Mediterranean-inspired eatery serving small plates & specialty cocktails in a stylish setting.
Address and Contact Information
Address: 317 S Main St, Salt Lake City, UT 84111
Phone: (801) 364-0853
Website: http://www.evaslc.com/
Menu Photos
Order and Reservations
Reservations: evaslc.com
Photo Gallery
Related Web Results
eva
Eva’s Bakery – Bakery in Salt Lake City, UT
Eva Restaurant SLC (@evaslc) · Salt Lake City, UT – Instagram
Reviews
Great spot for a birthday or anniversary with a loved one. Not cheap but worth every penny.
We had a misunderstanding with the guy taking our order and he was a bit rude but other than that the staff was great, our waiter was great.
Spanish meatballs- warm and tangy, rich meatball, wonderful cheesy bread
Charred beets- delicious warm sauce, nutty
Lamp chops- perfectly cooked, though the English cucumbers leave something to be desired- maybe they could be better seasoned, as the meat really is the star of the dish.
Due to the amount of sauce, a change of plates would have been nice.
Lobster ravioli- incredible. Only three pieces. Could have gone without the over cooked shrimp mixed in, but the dish was
our favorite.
Fig and pig pizza- crust was nice, but the combination of arugula pesto, fig jam and cooked prosciutto was a bit heavy. I would have preferred the pesto be basil pesto.
Chocolate cake-dark fluffy cake paired with fresh vanilla ice cream
Date pudding- not what we had expected- it was more of a bread texture with whipped cream on top.
Mocktails were nice, red blend was great too.
Come here please.
Surrounding us was an enchanting gothic ambiance: flickering candlelight cast trembling shadows upon the stone walls, and the air was heavy with the heady perfume of roses and aged wood. The entire room breathed intimacy, like a cathedral of indulgence. Upon first glance at the menu—gilded and inked in an elegant, archaic script—my mouth watered with almost sinful anticipation. Everything looked positively decadent, but alas, I knew I must show restraint, lest I be consumed by my own ravenous desire.
Our waiter appeared—Gehrig, a vision of aesthetic perfection, with cascading brunette curls and eyes that seemed to hold ancient, knowing mischief. He recommended that we begin with three to four plates. We chose the baked brie, lobster ravioli, Eva’s steak, and Eva’s pizza. Each dish arrived like an offering to some delicious pagan ritual, and my husband and I devoured them as though spellbound. With each bite, we released low, primal murmurs of pleasure—“mmmmmmm”—echoing like chants in a haunted chapel.
For dessert, we indulged in the crème brûlée, its sugar crust cracking like old parchment beneath our spoons, revealing the creamy, golden heart beneath. Beside it sat a decadent marvel: a dark chocolate cup filled with warm, molten ganache, crowned with scorched marshmallows that looked like ghostly little clouds singed by candlelight. As I took a bite, the toasted sweetness gave way to a rich, velvety darkness that coated my tongue like a forbidden spell—smoky, sweet, and utterly divine. It was less a dessert and more an incantation, casting a spell that sealed the evening in delicious eternity.
Throughout our two-hour reverie, sweet Gehrig floated in and out of our little sanctum, always arriving precisely when needed, as though summoned by some invisible incantation. His enthusiastic spirit and hauntingly bright smile elevated the evening to something almost supernatural. Eva wouldn’t be Eva without Gehrig—our charming guide through this gothic culinary dreamscape.
My husband and I agreed that all future anniversaries must be consecrated at Eva. After the dark and stormy year we had endured, it was this night—bathed in candlelight and cloaked in enchantment—that rekindled the sacred fire between us. Thank you, Eva, for the most unforgettable night we could have ever imagined. Here’s to many more nights of shadowed magic, shared laughter, and delicious resurrection.