Fine at Brandywine
Brandywine restaurant in Cedarburg finds its groove.
It will be about 45 minutes, the Brandywine host said on a busy night at the Cedarburg restaurant, and she was right on target.
It was just enough time for us to catch up at the bar and dissect the week over a drink, like wines by the glass that drank pricier than they were. And to have a small bite, because why not?
Brandywine’s menu has a few plates designated for sharing at the table, which makes them perfect for the bar, such as marinated olives with orange, fennel and grilled bread ($5).
Also naturals with a drink and a chat: fresh, gooey cheese curds ($8) fried in a light batter and tumbled with little battered chunks of cauliflower; dip them in the fresh buttermilk ranch dressing, sure, but especially the addictive chilegarlic mayonnaise.
And the cheese board ($15) was a beauty. A month ago, it reflected one season slipping out of reach and another taking hold. There were poached plum and roasted blueberries alongside fresh apple and Marcona almonds, with three fine Wisconsin cheeses, including creamy Moody Blue, Roth’s blue cranked to 11.
Brandywine opened in June, and I stopped in over the summer to see if it might make this fall’s top restaurants list. It was a little too soon for that.
But when I returned in October, wow. Brandywine was in a sweet, sweet groove.
Service, always hospitable, had smoothed out; the menu had switched to more fall-like items, and these dishes hummed.
There was the soup made of roasted parsnip, a silky bed for a garnish of roasted wild mushrooms, foamy maple cream and crisp puffed wild rice ($7), and a salad of purely delicious things: shredded Honeycrisp apple mounded with bits of Pleasant Ridge Reserve cheese, a brilliant meeting of savory and sweet, tied together with lemon vinaigrette ($8).
Chef-owner Andrew Wilson, who previously was executive sous chef at Bacchus in downtown Milwaukee, has an affinity for making pasta.
Find compelling flavors in any of them, like the mezzaluna ($17), halfmoons filled with braised pork and mascarpone and bathed in spicy tomato sauce that’s tumbled with giardiniera, for more spice, acidity and texture. It’s topped with sauteed spinach and garlic breadcrumbs, which sort of gilds the lily but works together happily.
Brandywine also makes a dreamy bolognese; the creamy meat sauce is warmed with nutmeg and coats ribbons of tagliatelle ($17). (It was served with spaccatelli, the little half-rolled scrolls, as a special when I had it.) The other pastas go meatless — sturdy cheesefilled ravioli ($16), served lately with roasted winter squash, and wholewheat pappardelle with roasted mushrooms, dabs of goat cheese and pistachio ($16).
Yes, there are just four pastas, and five main dishes, including a dandy third-pound burger ($14) topped with reliable flavor enhancers: four-year cheddar and caramelized onions.
But it’s plenty when the dishes are as varied and well executed as these. Consider the duck breast with squash puree, braised kale and wild rice, brightened with bacon vinaigrette ($28), tender beef short rib with mushroom risotto ($26) and juicy, steaming chicken with roasted carrots, Calabrian chiles and delicious (if cooling) white cheddar polenta ($19).
Our eyes swiveled as if a celebrity had just walked past, but it was the whitefish being swept to a table. Alas, it was one of the last ones that night. The fish was well worth a return trip: meaty fillets and crisped skin, with fingerling potatoes, dill pickle remoulade and roasted brussels sprouts that were perfect — a few crisp, wispy leaves over sprouts that were neither under- nor overdone ($20), a rare feat.
The made-with-care aesthetic extends to dessert. The flourless chocolate cake ($8) is less the usual dense, fudgy slice and more like a souffle captured in time, a light wedge served in a pool of orange buttermilk cream with candied pistachio.
It seems we’re in a restaurant golden age for butterscotch pudding, thank God; here it’s layered with supple caramel and whipped cream, and served with shortbread-like rosemary cookies ($8). A third dessert, three flavors of ice cream ($9), is made in Milwaukee at popular Purple Door.
The chef does keep dinner offerings lively with daily specials, like an excellent filet. At $35, it seemed a steal; steaks of similar quality at restaurants downtown would cost more.
Most menu items, in fact, would be pricier in the high-rent areas of Milwaukee.
Another part of Brandywine’s appeal is its dining room. The chef bought the 19th-century Victorian storefront with his wife, Rhiannon, and they installed a kitchen and bar and updated the interior but kept the vintage pressed tin on the walls and ceiling.
It’s a charming room, but all those hard surfaces amplify the sound of diners having a good time. One server said, “Bear with me, I know it’s loud in here,” and then what followed was swallowed by the surrounding chatter.
The restaurant is taking steps to soften
the sound, the chef said. As always, going early in the evening and earlier in the week will usually net quieter dining. Or try angling for a table at the front of the dining room or in the separate dining room in the back, an overflow and private-dining space. It doesn’t have the same energy as the main room, but that’s the trade-off.
Then again, Brandywine isn’t much noisier than a number of Milwaukee restaurants with similar finesse and attention to craft. I felt like I’d just had dinner in Walker’s Point or downtown, but with a leaner, any-night tab.