Northern Ohio Live March 2003

Groovy Grovewood

Douglas Trattner

What happens when a neighborhood's favorite tavern becomes everyone's favorite? Just ask the hapless chef spinning feverishly in what is undoubtedly Cleveland's smallest professional kitchen.

Actually, Tim Ogan's culinary realm more closely resembles a DJ booth, with stovetops in place of turntables. And its location, just this side of the front door, ensures that the kitchen is the first and last thing one sees when visiting the Grovewood Tavern & Wine Bar.

It is no great mystery why the residents of this North Collinwood neighborhood - not to mention those of more distant communities - find the Grovewood particularly appealing. The owners have created a formula that is nearly foolproof. By offering generous portions of well-crafted fare at near-criminal prices, combining those meals with an extensive wine list priced to move and doing all this in the unlikeliest of environs, they consistently surpass the expectations of all who cross the threshold. The nightly live music doesn't hurt either.

This is not to say that the Grovewood is without flaw. When the restaurant is operating at full clip, as is very often the case, the sheer limitations of the Lilliputian kitchen all but guarantee an occasional misstep. Still, diners are typically amazed that things run as smoothly as they do.

The "tavern" designation in Grovewood's name should not be confused with the disingenuous "taverne," slapped on trendy spots to elicit feelings of days-gone-by charm. One look at the green indoor/outdoor carpet and decrepit linoleum squares that make up the dining-room floor will quickly dispel that notion. Even the impressive 160-bottle wine list, with its 100 wines by the glass, doesn't rest on ceremony, since it arrives printed on a blue sheet of paper folded pamphlet-style. (Our selection, a zesty Rancho Zabaco zinfandel, came in at the evenhanded price of $21.)

When your table finally becomes available, you might be surprised to see it adorned with crisp white linens, topped by a square of tidy white paper. Grovewood's menu is an unlikely jumble of global flavors, dishes borrowing inspiration from Italy, Asia, regional America and eastern Europe.

The sturdy sandwiches should not be overlooked at Grovewood. The hamburgers ($8.50) are a tasty handful, especially when topped off with strongly scented bleu cheese ($1).

Old World favorites take on a New World appearance. An appetizer of tender beef pot stickers ($8) is actually mini-pierogi in disguise, made locally by a woman who learned the art from her mother. They are dressed with a sweet reduction of balsamic vinegar, caramelized onions and crispy lardons of bacon. An entree of chicken paprikash ($13), very nearly the size of the kitchen it came from, includes the unorthodox additions of grilled zucchini and squash. Dark-meat chicken would have fared better than the arid white meat, and the sauce could have done without the seven bay leaves I have to sidestep, but the crimson paprika sauce that blankets the chicken and the tender Sapetzle are comforting, to be sure.

Appetizers command a full third of the menu, most of the restaurant's fish selections finding a place among them. The fried oysters ($10) may not have just been shucked, but they arrived hot, crisp and plump, and at only about a buck apiece, they are a personal favorite. A smokey remoulade makes for a fine dipping sauce. The calamari ($7), on the other hand, arrive woefully pale and sadly chewy. But the Asian-style sesame paste that accompanies them goes a long way toward setting the dish straight.

A rotating stable of nightly specials is as eclectic as the fixed menu. I was richly rewarded by a recent selection of seafood cioppino ($14.50). Grovewood's version of this hearty Italian fish stew includes a wealth of tasty seafood in a richly flavored fish broth. Among the inclusions are shrimp, scallops, clams, mussels and calamari. Crowning this huge meal is an entire portion of perfectly seared salmon. Crusty bread would be a better choice than the thick pasta below, and the heretical addition of shredded Parmesan cheese that tops the fish should never have left the kitchen, but otherwise, this dish is a luxurious treasure.

Operating under stretched resources can cause some aspects of a restaurant to suffer. At the four-year-old Grovewood, the limitations show up as occasionally slow service and uneven side dishes, made far in advance. But patient diners (and shouldn't we be?) continue to leave the Grovewood with much more than they bargained for, and thye continue to tell their friends about the not-so-hidden gem they discovered in Collinwood.