HOLY ROLLER’S KITCHEN NEVER LIVES UP TO THE STUNNING DECOR
Hopefully eatery will mimic El Cortez, which also started badly, writes Alan Kellogg.
There was a time, not so long ago, when Edmonton was a relative bargain place to dine on the continent with a surprising variety of worthy culinary and potable options on offer for not much more than a song. Savvy travellers from other locales would often remark favourably on this Canadian anomaly, especially those who hit River City after pricier stops in Vancouver and Calgary.
The one aspect the city lacked then was the design sense common to those and other larger, if comparable, centres. Back in the day, supping at bistros such as Calgary’s long-shuttered (but gloriously set forth in all its distressed grandeur) Mescalero, I used to wonder when our local restaurateurs would get with it and devote some attention to physical space. Cash wasn’t the only problem. It was also imagination born of travel, taste, curiosity and the imperative to create a sense of excitement and even mystery in a room.
Things have changed here. Brilliant, unsung cheap eats and drinks are much harder to find
in Edmonton. Then again, folks in the business deserve to make a decent living while continental foodie memes and trends rule. And yes, local bistro owners, many young, talented and making a stand, have stepped up to the plate in design and hipness high and low. This is obviously a good thing.
Near the top of the design list is Merchant Hospitality, the Edmonton partnership behind the adjoining Strathcona trio of El Cortez, Have Mercy and lately, The Holy Roller.
Each is a fabulous movie set of sorts — co-owner Michael Maxxis makes films sometimes — and deserves a visit on sheer esthetic grounds alone.
There used to be a great eatery in Toronto called Three Small Rooms. Call Holy Roller Three Strange Rooms. You enter into a Victorian parlour that serves as a breakfast room/coffee shop, step across a threshold lined by gumball machines and theatre seats and move into a central hall with banquettes, a long bar, green neon and chandeliers on the ceiling, gorgeous floor treatment and striking murals by Coachella Valley artist Armando Lerma among other nifty details.
Describing the backroom, which I assume will open to an agreeable outdoor space in summer, is beyond my limited powers — although it has the faint vibe of New Orleans tea room to me. And a white panther. And more neon. And what of “the Holy Roller?” Haven’t a clue.
Anyway, you get the idea. Like Merchant’s other properties, this is an entertaining place to explore, the design money well spent. Full marks.
But so far, over a couple of visits, the food has been spotty. I take no pleasure in reporting this and perhaps like El Cortez, which began badly in the kitchen, things will be turned around. Could chef Lindsay Porter be brought back to right the ship again? (Well, no.)
The menu is admirably playful and all over the place, like the rooms, and that’s just fine. You don’t need a central theme to create great plates.
We sampled the categories, beginning with Gorgonzola bacon crostini ($6) from the pinxto (tapas) list. The crostini were a soggy mess. Enough said, although at least they were cheap. If unremarkable, the ricotta tapenade ($16) was much more successful with balsamic drizzled (separate) dollops of the fresh cheese and olive spread served with tasty “pizza croquant.” Ditto for a standard-ish plate of tempura Asian green beans ($11) served with a couple of decent dipping sauces.
Again, the roasted carrot salad ($11) was also just fine, and fairly priced.
As someone who very long ago visited the Motor City with some regularity, the notion of “Detroit style” pizza seemed unlikely if not outright bogus, but there it is in Wikipedia. It’s essentially a Chicago or New York City Sicilian deep dish product with a crispier bottom crust, and I found the classic pepperoni ($16 for four slices) delicious on each visit.
So too was an (attractive) bowl of lentil and chorizo pappardelle ($18), which won’t have Daniel Costa sweating, but was perfectly respectable.
What was not respectable — and even downright shocking — was the so-called al pastor ribs (from $15 to $52). Shocking because both the head chef and sous chef at Holy Roller are Chilangos — that is, natives of Mexico City, one of the world’s great dining cities. I shudder to think what would happen in la Condesa or Roma Norte if someone offered up these tough, flavour-free stumps with a small slice of cool, un-caramelized pineapple on top, sided by five undistinguished commercial corn tortillas. Like much of the menu here, there are some laudable ideas at play. Riffing off the ubiquitous Mexico taco dish normally cooked on a revolving donair/gyros machine with pineapple roasting on top is a great concept. But it’s all in the execution.
For dessert, avoid the ill-named pistachio mousse ($8), which consisted of a thin layer of mousse juxtaposed with veins of what tasted like sawdust and Jell-O. We also tried out after you eight ($11) and sweet desire ($11), which — par for the course — read beautifully but just didn’t live up to the promise. Perhaps delicious mint ice cream and chocolate covered popcorn might be served alone.
The service was professional and welcoming on each visit — no small feat in a busy spot. Liquor prices are of the moment. They also take reservations, which is a blessing.
There are many other items on the (suspiciously) long bill o’ fare that are enticing, cleverly-intentioned etc., but I’m wondering if the kitchen isn’t overreaching across the board. Too clever by half. That said, hopefully time will sort out the problems because Holy Roller is such a terrific space. For now, I’ll be sticking to pizza and salad and enjoying the view.