New review of Blue
There are established restaurants, and then there are established restaurants. Some are staid and stuck in a time warp where nothing ever seems to change. Everything and everybody around them may be changing, but it is “steady as she goes” inside the four walls of such restaurants. Karl Wells has a few tasty words about Blue on Water.
There are established restaurants, and then there are established restaurants. Some are staid and stuck in a time warp where nothing ever seems to change. Everything and everybody around them may be changing, but it is “steady as she goes” inside the four walls of such restaurants.
Then there are restaurants that move with the times. Bistros that maintain continuity in service, amenities and so on, but every so often a menu will change, new cocktails evolve, the wine list may improve or the décor will be revamped. It’s called staying fresh. I much prefer the latter kind of established restaurant.
Blue on Water is a good example. On many occasions in the past I have noticed both subtle and significant changes in the food, beverage service and general look of the place. Each time I felt the experience was better.
Chef Grevatt
This week I returned to Blue on Water after a long absence. I had heard that about eight months ago a new chef, Adam Grevatt, (and sous, Chris Grimley) took command of Blue on Water’s kitchen. It was also difficult not to notice that a few years ago Blue on Water had gone through a period of renovation. All signs looked good for a successful visit.
My first impression was that Blue on Water is now a brighter venue. Black chairs have been replaced by off white colonial style chairs with stained wood seats. The brick wall that faces you on entering is still there but hosts a line of booths. The opposite wall maintains a banquette with an oatmeal coloured cloth back.
A back corner is strikingly clad in copper. Below the copper and an impressive chandelier of large entwined black rings is a booth that seats about six. On a shelf above the booth, to signal Grevatt’s commitment to serving as much local produce as possible, are Mason jars filled with preserves: relishes, pickled cucumbers, onions, sprouts and other vegetables.
Servers’ ballet
We were there for brunch. Black clad servers, under the supervision of manager Sully moved with ease throughout the restaurant during the late morning service, in that servers’ ballet you see in established, well-run eateries.
Adam Grevatt’s influence can be seen in the new selections on Blue on Water’s menu. I tried a most clever creation, called split pea fries. These light and delicious fries were made by cooking split peas and turning them into a flat cake. Large chips of about half-inch thickness were cut from the cake and then deepfried. A surprisingly light texture and mild split pea flavour made these chips, served with rich aioli, an excellent snack.
I rarely rave about a dish, and the idea of raving about a dish of puréed berries is, frankly, something I thought I’d never be doing. But rave I will about Blue on Water’s cold berry soup. Any dish that can almost instantly trigger a feeling I can only liken to euphoria is special. I tasted purity, freshness, zip and an intensity of flavour in this soup that was thoroughly authentic and extraordinary. The inclusion of hemp hearts provided just enough texture.
Chowder of distinction
Blue on Water’s chowder is worthy of being called a great chowder, like those classic, impressive chowders that sustained so many cold, hungry northeastern Canadian and American mariners over the centuries. It was a richly creamed and bountiful chowder that contained good sized bites of halibut, as well as my favourite, Newfoundland mussels.
My mom made the best baked beans in the world. She really did. When I tasted the baked beans that arrived with Blue on Water’s Newfoundland breakfast, I thought of my Mom and her amazing beans. I cannot give higher praise than that. They were dark, slightly sweet with molasses and intensified by the taste of good bacon.
First-rate, plump (but lean) house made pork sausages were also part of the breakfast. Three warm and soft toutons, complete with a dish of dipping molasses, finished the meal. With a cup of intense, heart starter coffee, this breakfast is the one you want to begin a busy day.
A French-influenced red wine chicken stew looked beautiful enough to grace the cover of a cookbook. A wine broth infused with the taste of root vegetables (carrot, parsnip, onions, turnip) and chicken was the great strength of this stew. Bacon added extra flavour. There was plenty of broth to enjoy with the French bread slices (topped with grated cheese) that accompanied the stew. I soaked the bread and savoured the colourful flavours.
Per capita, St. John’s has more good restaurants than average. There is no question about that. But we have just a handful of restaurants of the calibre of Blue on Water.