Contemporary fare with a Southern accent
Cherry Creek has never lacked for restaurants, but at times locally owned spots seem the exception rather than the rule. Nothing inherently wrong with that, of course, but it’s nice to know you are putting money into a fellow Denverite’s pocket rather than an out-of-state chain. Hey, maybe they’ll spend it at your business.
All of which makes the opening of Grind Kitchen + Watering Hole at 300 Fillmore St. a welcome addition to the neighborhood.
Helmed by Preston Phillips, who at 24 might be the youngest restaurant owner in the city, the lunch-and-dinner menu offers contemporary American fare with a slight Southern accent. That’s Phillips’ Alabama roots coming through.
Grind occupies a garden-level space that was once home to Pikkas Peruvian Cuisine and Pisco Bar. The 2-month-old restaurant features a homey interior with wood accents, a long bar and fresh-faced staffers who know their job is to serve the customers, not idle at the wait station comparing tattoos.
There is a smart wine list, although they aren’t giving it away, and an array of house cocktails. These aren’t cheap either. The Black Dog, with Stranahan’s whiskey, lemon, root beer syrup and an egg white goes for $16. Try the Desperado, with Milagro tequila, pineapple, cucumber-lime syrup and a habanero spike. And there is beer.
While the menu at heart is anchored in comfort food, it does not lack for complexity or creativity.
A trio of lamb meatballs was deeply flavorful, served atop creamy, coarse-ground yellow grits and ringed by an intense mole
sauce. Shaved asadero cheese and pickled onions finished the dish.
Even the fried Brussels sprouts, for some years now an obligatory item on aspirational menus, enjoyed a twist. They were tossed with shiitake mushrooms, bacon, black garlic mayo and a pomegranate balsamic vinegar.
Sandwiches roam the Rand McNally atlas.
Yes, there is a classic double cheeseburger, complete with a special sauce. (I would pay an extra five bucks for a restaurant to bill it as “The same sauce you get on a Whopper, but you knew that, right?”) Although in fact, this one sports an abundant addition of diced pickles.
The banh mi, Vietnam’s nod to the Earl of Sandwich, could use some tweaking. Luscious pork belly was piled onto a baguette then given a bright spike from Asian quick pickles, radish, cilantro and a sriracha aioli. But I wished the pork belly had been more thinly shaved, rather than in big chunks; the veggie element also could have been upped for more balance.
And there is an excellent BLT featuring house-smoked bacon, peppery arugula and fried green tomatoes. The latter is a smart choice as the kitchen awaits the arrival of ripe summer tomatoes.
Being a Alabama native, Phillips was bound by tradition, if not outright law, to put fried chicken on the menu. He doesn’t skimp with it either.
Four pieces, crisp and juicy, arrive on the plate, with two sides.
One was braised collard greens studded with pork. It was joined by a small bowl of Sea Island red peas (one of South Carolina’s gifts to the culinary world) mixed with Carolina Gold rice, a long-grain varietal first grown in North Carolina. Unfortunately, this delicately flavored premium rice was utterly masked by the peas and their jus, enough so that the waiter had to assure me that the dish did, in fact, contain rice. On another visit, this side came out spot on. Phillips goes big with his proteins. The menu includes a 20-ounce Berkshire bone-in pork chop with grits and sweet chili sauce, plus a duo of duck with risotto.
He is also one of the chefs who champions the teres major cut of beef, taken from the steer’s shoulder muscle. It goes by other names, including bistro filet. Cooked to order, the cut is paired with root mashers and fresh greens. Bacon vinaigrette, too. What’s not to like?
Phillips indulges his Southern sweet tooth with a half-dozen desserts.
One must-try is the chocolate-hazelnut pie. It is decadence housed in a throwback Ritz cracker crust, with a dollop of salted caramel ice cream. Another charmer is the trio of chocolate chip cookies with a glass of whole milk. Thanks, mom!
I think — I certainly hope — that Phillips and his able crew have a hit on their hands.
The idea of being able to find crispy chicken and fried green tomatoes in the tony depths of Cherry Creek pleases my Tarheel heart to no end.