Free Times September 27, 2006

Local Hero: Grovewood survives popularity that would have killed a lesser restaurant

Douglas Trattner

It's a familiar truth that by examining something, we unwittingly alter that which we seek to understand. This is precisely the story of the Grovewood Tavern and Wine Bar.

Before the press got wind of the Grovewood, now into its seventh year of operation, it was an unassuming neighborhood tavern serving above-average food in the unlikeliest of environs. What tickled local food writers, this one included, was the improbable confluence of ambitious cuisine, a stellar wine list, and an amiable and attentive waitstaff. But it was the setting — a weathered saloon in a dog-eared, blue-collar neighborhood — that provided the grist for the press mill. The dining room, with its dated wood paneling, vintage bowling machine and crumbling linoleum squares, offered the sort of delightful contradiction that makes for great journalism.

With a setting this doleful, Grovewood consistently exceeded expectations. Diners, having read the reports, scrambled to experience this hidden gem, this diamond in the roughest of forms. Suburbanites filled every seat in the house, often toting along friends who complimented them on their bold choice to venture into the "'hood" for dinner. They were slumming. And it felt good.

That demand triggered some tinkering. The bowling machine was removed to make room for more tables. New carpeting was installed from wall to wall. The white paper that topped the tables was replaced by white linen. Reservations, if you could believe it, were essential if one hoped to secure a table on a weekend evening. Everybody's favorite "neighborhood" restaurant metamorphosed into its polar opposite, a "destination" restaurant.

Seven years into this social experiment with food, Grovewood Tavern has, I'm pleased to report, settled into a cozy groove. Saturday is still "date night for suburbanites," but by and large, the tavern has regained its rightful designation as a neighborhood haunt. Prices have inched up in recent years but most of the entrées still are in the $14-18 range. Portions have remained characteristically bountiful, and the wine list continues to be one of the most diverse and affordable in town. Bottles of Kenwood Russian River pinot noir, which retail for around $15, sell at the Grovewood for a mere $28.

Best of all, the food is better than it has been for some time, thanks to Brandon Kercher, former executive sous chef at Leopard at the Bertram Inn. Seasoned and expeditious, Kercher consistently turns out full-flavored fare from Grovewood's pocket-size kitchen.

Ripe red and yellow heirloom tomatoes are the co-stars of a chevre and tomato salad ($10). The large round of goat cheese is lightly breaded and heated through, making it a joy to spread on slices of the house bread. A balsamic glaze and white truffle oil gild the sweet tomatoes.

Kercher avoids the Achilles' heel of bruschetta — soggy bread — by leaving the assembly to the diner. In the Tuscan bruschetta ($9), thin, crisp toasts that have been drizzled with a honey-balsamic reduction are served alongside a bowl of diced heirloom tomatoes, onion and basil. Diners spoon on as much or as little of the topping as they choose, and the bread is as crispy on the last bite as it was on the very first.

It seems mandatory these days to serve calamari, and Grovewood is no exception, but far more compelling is the barbecue crawfish ($10). A big mess of fried crawfish tails are tossed in a homemade barbecue sauce and showered with a spicy remoulade. Beats a plate of calamari any day of the week.

Wrapped in prosciutto and seared, five plump and candy-sweet scallops ($24) make for an impressive and surprisingly substantial meal. They are paired with a season-appropriate roasted spaghetti squash and spiced pear butter. An assertive red curry crust transforms an ordinary flank of salmon ($17) into a spirited dish. The fish's fiery coating is tempered by a chilled pool of cilantro-tomato broth. Creamy herbed risotto fills out the plate. In the lavender chicken ($17), a crispy roasted chicken is divvied into two large quarters and glazed with a fragrant honey-lavender sauce. The bird is nestled into a bed of creamy cheddar grits.

Beneath a crackling crust of burnt sugar, a bright green pistachio crème brulee ($7.50) looks positively ominous. But the dessert proves to be a wonderful deviation from the typical one-note song of the classic.

Years back, in a review of Grovewood Tavern, this writer posed the following question: "What happens when a neighborhood's favorite tavern becomes everybody's favorite?" Thanks to the power of hindsight, and seven years of flavorful observation, that question can finally be answered. If you're the Grovewood, you relish the highs, weather the lows and come out on the other side a landmark.