There was a discussion recently on the local food boards regarding the practice of restaurants charging for bread. Some viewed the trend merely as an unfortunate byproduct of a weak economy. Others declared the practice nothing short of heresy. I’m willing to bet that neither camp will mind dropping $3 for the bread and butter appetizer at the Greenhouse Tavern.
By all outward appearances, the bread and butter starter is just
that — some grilled slices of bread and a dollop of pale butter.
But standing in for the tried-and-true spread is goat’s-milk butter, a
creamy, faintly tart substance that — when smeared on crusty
bread and consumed — causes time to slow. Like so many things at
the Greenhouse, the dish elevates the everyday to an unforgettable food
experience.
Too much of the buzz surrounding East Fourth Street’s newest hotspot
has focused on the “green” rather than the “tavern.” While it’s noble
that the restaurant implemented numerous environmentally friendly
practices, few diners select an eatery because it installed
high-efficiency water heaters. No, diners return to restaurants from
which they depart fat and happy. Chefs Jonathon Sawyer and Jonathan
Seeholzer fully comprehend the notion of satisfaction. To them and
their ilk, little can top a leisurely meal filled with good bread,
saucy plates and jugs of rustic wine. When you pair that understanding
with a mastery of cooking technique, you craft a restaurant that
consistently under-promises and over-delivers.
Time and again, what appears on the menu to be a pedestrian
place-filler turns out to be a revelation. Radishes ($3) are
transformed from ubiquitous salad stuffers to addictive bar snacks,
thanks to a smidgen of butter, salt and grated horseradish. Good
prosciutto ($5) can be found on half the menus in town, but only this
one wraps it around warm logs of fried gnocchi. I’ve eaten more chicken
wings ($11) than I care to admit, but damned if I’ve ever tasted them
like this. Crisp, salty, juicy, and tossed with garlic and peppers, the
duck-fat-fried wings are anything but pedestrian.
With Greenhouse, Sawyer promised to do for French-inspired fare what
he did for Italian at the wildly popular Bar Cento — namely,
reinterpret the cuisine through the use of local, seasonal and
sustainable ingredients. Through that lens, a hackneyed goat-cheese
salad becomes a salad ($11) made not with goat’s-milk cheese but with
Ohio goat meat. A bundle of lush, earthy goat confit (its “baa” subdued
by the braise) is paired with a springy herb salad of mint, cilantro
and watercress.
The only real “twist” in the quintessentially French steak frites
($19) is the well-trimmed flank of Ohio beef in the center of the
plate. The expertly grilled steak is lean, flavorful and tender, making
it a delicious foil for Sawyer’s inexplicably crisp fries. On its own,
the fine-grained steak tartare ($9) seems to be lacking the requisite
salty kick. But when spread on thin toasts and topped with the onion
and cornichon relish, the dish nears perfection.
One of the few dishes to not fully live up to its potential is the
roast chicken ($18). Sure, the Ohio-bred bird arrives copper-colored in
all the right places, but the meat below had evidently shed its
moisture along with its feathers. Conversely, a dish that shatters any
possible preconception is the steamed clams with foie gras ($13). I’ve
never pondered a clam-and-foie pairing, but this dish is proof that
some higher power obviously had. We devoured the clams just to get to
the mind-blowing sauce below.
Being green may be great for the environment, but it can sometimes
lead to diner disappointment. On one visit, we sucked back some of the
finest oysters in recent memory — and we chased them with nips of
devilishly good horseradish vodka. But when Sawyer could no longer
secure a quality sustainable variety, he 86ed them.
Sawyer, who can be seen flitting about in a long apron and short
pants, is a consummate tinkerer. He brews his own vinegars, curdles his
own cheese, picks and pickles his own ramps, and one day, will grow his
own herbs and veggies in a rooftop greenhouse. Like any ambitious
project, this one is unfolding in stages. A streetside patio was
recently launched, and lunch service soon followed. Look for breakfast
and brunch down the road. And though the rooftop is still a work in
progress, the kick-ass kitchen dining room has finally hit its stride.
The subterranean space places a few lucky diners just feet from the
fire, where they can eat, drink and ogle the chefs as they crank out
plate after plate of earth-friendly French-inspired fare.
This article appears in Jul 8-14, 2009.
Those oysters were amazing. I do miss them!