Frida's: More Than Just Contemporary Mexican

Restaurant: Frida's Contemporary Mexican Cuisine
Location: 14861 Metcalf, OP KS
Food: Upscale Mexican
Service: Traditional Waitstaff
Atmosphere: Suburban Strip Mall Mexican
Price: Apps $7-$9, Entrees $15-$19
Rating: 3 Napkins

A couple years ago, here in Kansas City there were just two types of Mexican restaurants: bustling family-friendly Americanized places specializing in burrito platters and those salads that come in a big fried tortilla bowl, and smaller holes in the wall that had a higher degree of Mexican authenticity but mostly unremarkable atmosphere. The former are typically staples of the busy suburban/white areas of town, and the latter dotted Southwest Boulevard and KCK near actual Mexican neighborhoods. There's tasty food to be found in both locations but they all left me wondering whether this really was all we should expect from Mexican cuisine.

There was also the freakish Mi Cocina on the plaza, a clubby over-priced hot spot with a curious basement drunk partiers would think of late on a Friday night… perhaps the closest thing to an upscale Mexican place in town, but with a reputation for bad food and worse service that led to a collective public understanding that it was on its way out. And soon enough it did croak.

All the while, my affinity for good Mexican food has grown. What started as a weekly pilgrimage to the rug rats’ heaven that is The Salty Iguana in Prairie Village gave way to a new found love for asada and adovada street tacos at Cancun Fiesta Fresh and Tacos el Pastor and Enchiladas de Mole at El Patron. I lost my taste for the concept of ground beef in a basketball-sized flour tortilla covered with cheddar and iceberg and migrated to fresh corn tortillas, slow cooked pork and beef, cilantro and raw onion. And as my tastes have mutated, I believe the Mexican restaurant scene in Kansas City has been evolving.

I surmise this with three relatively new Mexican restaurants in mind: Frida's Contemporary Mexican Cuisine, Zocalo and Mestizo, all of which tout a more sophisticated and proud Mexican dining experience. And of the three new joints, I've started by trying the elder of the group, Frida's.

Frida's, indeed, offers just what I think we've needed in Mexican cuisine for so long: good, carefully prepared and authentic Mexican food in a more sophisticated, cleaned-up atmosphere. Don't get me wrong, the dirty little taquerias have their place and their food is great for what it is, but we've needed a Mexican restaurant that felt nice inside and Frida's provides just that.

My opinion of the atmosphere at Frida's isn't entirely positive, though. After the solid 30 minute drive southward to their 149th & Metcalf location, I found Frida's to be typical of an upscale south KC-suburban restaurant, located in a nondescript strip mall, with mostly forgettable but perfectly suitable decor, enhanced with nice Frida Kahlo-themed touches. It's not at all unpleasant but neither is it noteworthy. Suburban-classy or suburban business casual is how I'd term it.

But for however normal the decor may be, the food is equally as much a surprise if you're not in the know about what they serve there. The food at Frida's is special, flat-out. Heck, just go to the website and check out the hero shots of some of their specialties on the home page and instantly you'll see what I mean. The dishes are beautifully plated on artful white dishes... a far cry from the cafeteria-style black heatproof plastic and aluminum trays they plunk down in front of you at, say, Ponak's. Then peruse the menu and you'll start picking up on ingredients you didn't even know were part of authentic Mexican cuisine. Pomegranate seeds, slivered almonds, raisins, walnut cream sauce... sound like your usual Friday night chiles relleno in Johnson County? Not quite. But that's basically what I ordered and all those ingredients were included.

The dish was called Chile en Nogada and it darn-near blew my mind. And not just because it was spicy--which it was. It's basically two stuffed poblanos in a cream sauce but the refinement and preparation of this dish were wonderful. First, I noticed that the waxy, touch skin on the chiles had been removed, which made them infinitely more enjoyable and easy to eat. Great touch. Stuffed inside each (there were two) was a sweet mixture of small strips of grilled beef, lots of slivered almonds and plump, juicy raisins. The green chiles came smothered in--not stringy, cheap yellow cheese--but a wonderfully decadent walnut cream sauce and bright red pomegranate seeds.

The flavors of the dish play off each other in amazing ways. There's the initial sweetness of the raisins and cream sauce, balanced nicely with the core flavor of beef and the meaty flesh of the poblanos, offset with a pop of acid from the pomegranates, all of which is layered with an undertone of chile pepper spice. Great layers of flavor! Poblanos can be very mild or fairly spicy depending on the individual peppers and these two babies were high on the Scoville scale. Hot enough, in fact, that I had a full-on stomach ache after finishing just one, but I cared not. I was in heaven.

Separating the Mexican flag-colored chiles was a nice big lump of green rice that, too, was far better than average but was mostly lost on my dazzled palette by the time I got to it.

Elizabeth opted for the chicken. Number 24, actually, called Pollo en Hoja Santa. Her rectangular platter came with two thinly pounded, grilled pieces of chicken which were unimaginably moist thanks, I'd say, to the technique of being wrapped in the hoja santa leaf when initially cooked (I'm dying to go back into the kitchen and see how this dish all comes together - I've never had chicken like this before). The chicken was folded around generous hunks of creamy goat cheese and wonderfully flavorful sauteed squash blossoms. The whole thing is sauced lightly with a tomatillo almond concoction that lends some bright acidity to the rich, cheesy chicken.

We loved it. We loved both entrees. And with the clearly discernible buzz from our giant margaritas to compliment the fantastic Mexican food, we were blissful.

So the tough question we debated in the car on the way home was: would we be back? Truth be told, we don't venture south of 95th much when there's as much good stuff in midtown/plaza/brookside/westport/downtown, so much closer to home. Frida's is half way to Tulsa, it's a little pricey (by Mexican restaurant standards) and the atmosphere isn't terribly remarkable. The real answer is that only time will tell. But I have the feeling I'll be seeking excuses to make a return voyage and see what other delights are in store on the menu. Everyone in KC who enjoys Mexican food owes him/herself at least one dinner out at Frida's.

And look for comparison posts in the future when I've had the chance to check out Mestizo and Zocalo.

Rating: 3 Napkins

The Westside Local: Energy & Excitement at 17th & Summit

Restaurant: The Westside Local

Location: 1663 Summit, KC MO

Food: New American specializing in local ingredients. Great beer list.

Service: Traditional Waitstaff

Atmosphere: Laid back beer garden + Contemporary Dining Room

Price: Starters $6-$13, Sandwiches $9-$11, Entrees $13-$25 

Rating: three napkins

Walking into The Westside Local at 9:00 Saturday night, I had no idea what to expect. I’d seen the dining room before, but only passing through from the beer garden to the front door as we were leaving. Never as a diner. What I was eager to know was whether anyone would be there?



I don’t hear a lot of chatter about the place, though what I do typically hear is generally good. Had it gained a reputation good enough to lure diners from the crossroads and hold its own just caddy-corner from Blue Bird Bistro at 17th and Summit?

The buzz and bustle of the dining room that flooded our senses as soon as we cracked the front door and peered through the front curtains was our definitive answer. It was dark, warm, the music was loud and every table appeared to be filled. The bar area to the left, too, held several drinkers. Good thing we’d made a reservation.

The host showed us to a small four top, slightly hidden by an old vertical wood beam near the middle of the dining room. I sat with a view of the west side of the room, looking all the way back to the partially open kitchen. There were couples of all kinds: young, old, straight, gay, hipster and homely. Back by the restrooms there was a large group laughing boisterously. The music blared loudly, yet Elizabeth and I could hold a conversation without feeling strained. It was fun and we were instantly glad to be there.

It was quite dark at WL so I had to use my
blaringly bright flash on some of these
photos. My apologies for the low quality.

The menu at Westside Local is quite small, an understandable consequence of their dedication to using local products. I’m a big fan of the $2 Localities menu that features cheeses, charcuterie, beers and other small bites, but on this trip we were investigating the dinner menu, so we leap-frogged down to the real starters.

Ironically, we couldn’t say no to the deviled eggs for $6, thought they’re one of the items on the Localities list, and we’d already had them. Funny how it’s hard not to go back for a good thing. This time around, the deviled eggs were surprisingly plain. Dressed up with parsley vinaigrette, smoked paprika aioli and local microgreen we expected some flavors to pop, but these almost seemed pretty normal. Still, they were tasty little devils and I have a strong suspicion I’ll be ordering them again.

The salad we had next was exceptional. I love arugula and my only gripe about arugula salads at restaurants is that they can sometimes be too stemmy. Too grassy. This arugula was super tender and had a subtle bite to it. Mixed in were crunchy pieces of apple, deliciously pungent maytag blue cheese and roasted grapes. Everything was dressed with a sour cherry vinaigrette that cut through the blue cheese nicely, and on the side was a small piece of sticky, sweet and salty pumpkin seed brittle. Nice but unnecessary. A little too much geared toward dessert in my opinion.

Westside Local is a beer and wine joint, which sounds lame at first when one considers the high caliber cocktails coming out of so many other good restaurants in town these days, but their lists are superb. Fans of obscure, highly regarded beers, in particular, will have a field day with these selections. Upon Elizabeth’s recommendation, I ordered that night’s special beer, the Lagunita’s Hairy Eyeball ale, a 9.0% abv dark brown, sweet beer that reminded me of Boulevard’s Sixth Glass. It was a little strong with the eggs and salad, but a fantastic pair with my entrée, the Westside Roast Beef.

My French dip was almost everything one hopes for in a classic roast beef sandwich. The huge roll was soft and crusty, covered with gooey Emmentaler cheese. The thinly shaved beef was the star, though. Incredibly tender, it absolutely melted in the mouth. And just to guarantee the ideal, soft, salty bite, I plunged each deep into my pool of au jus.

The only thing lacking in this roast beef sandwich was the bite of horseradish. The au jus was listed as "molasses-horseradish au jus," but I couldn’t detect either of those two decidedly recognizable flavors in it. Still, I was supremely satisfied with this sandwich, and utterly stuffed. Somewhere throughout the process of devouring the sandwich and forkfuls of tiny-diced potato salad (with hints of mustard coarse grain mustard) I ordered a glass of the house red to combat the salt, which turned out to be a good choice, as well.

All the while, Elizabeth, too, enjoyed the red with her huge plateful of quinoa. If quinoa sounds too boring of an order for  a fun restaurant like Westside Local, fear not. For added textures and flavors, the super grain was loaded up with roasted butternut squash, tart dried cherries, green beans, funky little Brussels sprouts, Parmesan cheese and arugula. I liked it all but the cherries, which made sense theoretically – acidic and sweet to cut the other starchy, savory ingredients – but another dried fruit, less intense and sweet, could’ve paired better.

Did we need dessert? Yeah, we needed dessert. Specifically, we needed bread pudding. So we got some. Truth be told, I don’t even remember what was in it. But it was sweet, smooth, a little eggy, a little chewy, topped with delicious ice cream with a bright red line of raspberry coulis running beneath on the pretty rectangular plate. It was the ending for which we hoped.

So chalk The Westside Local up as another in Kansas City’s growing list of truly cool places. Not only does it have the absolute best beer garden experience during happy hour, it also boasts a chic, energetic dining room in the night hours. With the lights low and the music up, it vibrates with the energy of a restaurant that’s hit its sweet spot.

Rating: three napkins

Return to Genessee

Restaurant: Genessee Royale Bistro

Location: 1531 Genessee St., KC MO

Food: Lovable chef-driven, comfort-oriented approachable cuisine
Service: Traditional waitstaff
Atmosphere: 'Typical' casual stockyard-based American bistro
Price: Breakfast entrees $4-$9, Lunch $7-$9
Rating: Three napkins

Today was my friend Tyson’s 30th birthday and to help him celebrate, we chose the brunch spot—Genessee Royale Bistro, about which I gushed in a recent post.

The test: could it live up to the standard set on our first trip?

The quick answer: indeed.

There were several familiar faces there this morning—folks we had seen last time we were there, which was pleasing. I happen to think a solid base of regulars is a good sign of predictably good service.

On this trip, celebration being the purpose, cocktails were in order. We tried both the Campari and fresh grapefruit, as well as the champagne cocktail.

The Campari drink was a luscious pink color served in a lowball glass with a lime wedge garnish. It was slightly bitter and a bit tart, as expected, but not too much so. Quite refreshing, actually, and good enough that it was ordered repeatedly.

Note the little green soldiers.

The Champagne cocktail came served in an elegant stemless champagne flute. A cube of raw cane sugar in the bottom increased the quantity of bubbles that shot up from the bottom of the glass in pretty little mesmerizing plumes. The drink became sweeter and sweeter (in a good way) as it went along.

Smart cocktails, both of these.

The food was, again, excellent. This time around I sampled Philip’s Soft Egg and the Omelet.

What I loved about the soft egg dish was its whimsy. The soft egg, served in a dainty little white egg-sized saucer came with a cute stack of toast sticks on the side which were perfect for dunking in either the soupy egg or the jam… and not just any jam, but rather a seriously delicious bacon marmalade (which, if it sounds good, is exactly what you’d hope and if you don’t think it sounds good is way better than you think). There was also a lightly dressed mixed green salad on the side.

And among the toast structure, marmalade pond and jungle of greens were two classic little green toy soldiers. Perhaps a food fight taking place on my plate. I added a side of sausage which were served as two thick meat patties, lightly seasoned and deliciously juicy.

The omelet was standard fare. It was quite thick and filled with Gruyere, which I love, but it might have benefitted from a little more as I couldn’t get much Gruyere flavor out of it. The potatoes on the side were perfectly golden, but plain. Tabasco jazzed them up and I appreciated being offered a choice of that or Sriracha. Condiments can sometimes make all the difference in the world.

I pushed Tyson toward the fantastic creamtop buttermilk biscuit dish I’d had previously and he devoured it instantaneously, giving me reassurance that we’d successfully delivered an A plus birthday brunch. What better gift could there be? (Well, I’d imagine he’ll enjoy his Patron, too.)

We polished everything off with desserts, pictured below. Decadent lemon meringue pie and a chocolate chocolate chip cookie. At that early hour, I wasn't up for sweets, but the pie disappeared in a hurry and everyone ooh'd and aah'd over the cookie. I trust they were superb.

Rating: Still three napkins

What It Means to be Effortlessly Chic

Restaurant: Westport Cafe & Bar 

Location: 419 Westport Road, KC MO

Food: French Bistro-inspired

Service: Traditional waitstaff. Attentive, never cheesy.

Atmosphere: Laid back, European, cosmopolitan.

Price: Cocktails around $8, apps $4-$11, sandwiches & salads $6-$12, entrees under $20 

Rating: Three napkins

Effortlessly chic. When used to characterize a restaurant, it’s a descriptor that makes no sense unless one has experienced it firsthand. And that’s how I’d describe Westport Café & Bar, one of the newest establishments in Westport and quite possibly its very best.

The lighting is utilitarian-chic. The white
subway tiles on the walls are clean & classy.

Discussing my upcoming trip to the new-ish restaurant with friends, none of whom had been yet either, there seemed to be a theme: that they’d heard it was good and were interested to try it, but hadn’t pulled the trigger because they’d looked at the menu and nothing really jumped out at them. There was nothing extravagant. Nothing unique. No big hook. I bet if you asked owner Aaron Confessori, he’d tell you that’s the whole idea.

In fact, the home page of the website reads as follows: “Westport Cafe & Bar is a casual Paris-style Bistro that offers an American menu with classic French inspiration and preparations. Simple, quality ingredients are braised, grilled, poached, confit, or cured in the same old-world techniques that have been practiced by the French masters for years.”

You see, it’s really not about originality. Westport Café & Bar pays homage to the time-honored French dishes and techniques that have earned French cookery its reputation as the most influential in the culinary world, but with just enough of a twist to still achieve a discernable individualism.

And then there's this over-the-top beautiful framed
mirror toward the back that adds an ornate old world flare.

Part of the tradition of Parisian bistros and brasseries is good alcohol and Westport Café & Bar serves up, truly, some of the finest in the city (local mixologists Ryan Maybee and Beau Williams of Manifesto crafted the menu). Last night after taking our seats in the long hallway between the front and back dining areas just outside the door to the kitchen, I ordered up the Winter Smash and Elizabeth the Granny’s Westside.

Cocktails here are a must.

The Winter Smash was a tart, seasonally inspired mixture of Bourbon, fresh lemon juice, spiced honey syrup and peach, garnished with a skewer of three red berries and delicately walking a line between sour and sweet. Burying my snout in that lowball glass was a treat I was sad had to end.

Elizabeth’s Granny’s Westside looked the part of an old school cocktail in its small juice glass with egg white foam on top. Other ingredients in the lip-smacking libation were a homemade baked apple infused vodka, lemon, lime, simple syrup and soda. She didn’t want to share hers and I was confident I was winning out by not having to share mine.

Check out my mussels.

The gal who cuts my hair – a bit of a foodie herself and a great restaurant-talk cohort of mine – had been to WC&B and said the mussels were a must. Between choices with bacon and blue cheese or shaved fennel and roasted tomato, we went with the latter. It had been quite some time since we’d had mussels, so it wouldn’t have taken much for them to earn our adoration, but I absolutely did love them.

The mussels were plump and sweet with hints of garlic but not an overpowering amount. The tomatoes, though a little sparse, were soft and savory. And that broth, the best part of a steaming bowl of mussels, was a heavenly bath for the slices of baguette studding the bowl. My only gripe was that the fennel was not shaved, but rather came in long, undercooked strips. They lacked finesse and actually seemed more like long strips of Vidalia onion than fennel at all. Not bad, but not what we’d hoped for. Still, I’d order another bowl of those mussels with the exact same preparation in a heartbeat.

Seared tuna sandwich with ginger aioli.

One can go as pricey or cheap as they wish on this dinner menu. The salads and sandwiches are quite reasonable—Chicken Paillard for just $11, Tuna Nicoise for $12, Croque Monsieur for $9, Madame and her fried egg for just another dollar.

We didn’t go there on this trip, but the dinner entrees include plenty of seafood: fish of the day, arctic char, cod or scallops. There’s also pasta, roasted chicken, steak frites and pork shoulder. All range from $13 to $19.00.

Our first choice was the seared tuna sandwich. On a soft, sweet roll, rare strips of gorgeous pink tuna were heaped with a thick bedding of tender baby spinach and a brightly contrasting, sweet ginger aioli, which I loved. On the side was a small pile of sweated shallot, which I added to the sandwich, not knowing if they were just an optional topping or meant to go with my side salad. Each pleasurable mouthful melted away effortlessly. I instantly devoured the entire thing, which was not huge but certainly an adequate size.

The salad on the side, with shaved Parmesan and radishes, was lightly dressed with a heavenly, unctuous vinaigrette containing luxurious truffle oil. It didn’t overpower but was, rather, the perfect amount to make the salad a true bonus as opposed to a compulsory side.

Steak sandwich.

The steak sandwich came on another soft roll (though not the same one as came with the tuna sandwich) again with strips of delightfully tender meat and with a beautiful complimentary slathering of horseradish cream and sautéed onion; quite similar to the tuna sandwich in preparation, but an entirely different world of flavors. My fear with steak sandwiches is always overcooked stretchy, chewy meat. Not so here, as the steak melted away almost as easily as did the rare fish. I’m salivating now, as I relive the memories of each of these sandwiches.

As we conquered the French-inspired sandwiches, we also crammed salty pommes frites, buttery sautéed mushrooms and garlicky wilted spinach down our respective hatches. It was all so satisfying… so delicious… so… French. The attractive clientele sitting around us all seemed so laid back and satisfied, too. Our old neighbors Steve and Janie stopped by to chat. Steve’s a trained chef who knows his restaurants. I took his patronage as a sign we were on to something good.

Food finally gone, I polished off my backup drink – a glass of Tank 7 – and then glanced over at Elizabeth with an “I don’t want to leave yet” expression. She read me perfectly and “insisted” that we stick around for a cup of coffee (French Press, of course). I grinned and reclined. And as I sat back, sipping the warm coffee, I thoroughly felt and enjoyed the relaxed, collected French vibe emoting from every detail of the place. No one rushing, yet with superb service. Tasteful yet somewhat sparse décor. So much attention to detail yet not enough detail to be fussy.

I doubt I’m describing this all well enough to accurately convey the experience of dining at Westport Café & Bar, so here I’ll just circle back to my original point: I can call it effortlessly chic, but you simply have to experience it to understand.

Rating: three napkins

A Biased Review of Café Sebastienne

Restaurant: Café Sebastienne

Location: 4420 Warwick Blvd (Kemper Museum), KC MO

Food: Contemporary American

Service: Competent yet relaxed

Atmosphere: A cozy buzz... dinner among art.

Price: Starters $9-$14, Entrees $18-$30

Rating: Three Napkins

It’s nearly impossible to objectively review the restaurant that catered your wedding reception. So know, from the beginning, my review of Café Sebastienne is tainted with puppy love sentiment.

On September 15, 2007, this restaurant located in the Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art laid out for our guests and us a fine spread that, quite frankly, I don’t remember much. I was beaming with an ear-to-ear grin and paying special attention to greet as many of our friends and loved ones as possible, who had been so kind to spend their evening celebrating our marriage. Elizabeth, I remember, inhaled her food with double take-inducing speed, and rushed me to finish mine, feeling obligated to play the gracious hosts. And so I did.

So it was with great zeal that we made our recent reservation, having received a gift card to the restaurant.



It was colder than freezing outside but magically warm inside the narrow restaurant, whose walls are covered top-top-bottom with paintings of all sorts. The mélange of vibrant canvases is an art lover’s fantasy and contributes to the hearty conversation taking place among the diners. Elizabeth and I were seated at a lovely, small table in the middle of the restaurant where we started with complimentary multi-grain rolls and a dollop of herb compound butter, alongside which sat a dish of Moroccan spiced olives. The spice tasted of cumin and turmeric – curry-like – and balanced out the briny saltiness of the olives. A lovely start.

The fried risotto balls sounded too good to miss, so we ordered those to go along with our spinach salad. They came four to a plate, which was covered with a vibrant red coating of fresh, slightly spicy marinara and a sprinkling of Parmesan. The spheres of risotto were a perfect breadcrumb shell protecting a soft, gooey, cheesy center of rice.

The spinach salad was a lesser success. I’d argue it was underdressed, but it was perfect for Elizabeth who considers an overdressed salad worthy of capital punishment. Its toppings of dried apricots seemed a little odd combined with poached egg on top. Apricot and egg would seem fine, almost breakfasty together normally, but on the earthy spinach salad, the egg lends meatiness--protein, overpowering the light vinaigrette and fruits. It just didn’t come together as well as conceptualized. All that said, we’re still talking a “B” salad, not a “D” or “F” by any means.

Salad now being sufficiently over-analyzed, I move on to the entrees. Elizabeth’s was a wonderfully seasonal and healthy vegetarian dish: spaghetti squash with kale, soft hunks of tangy, savory tomato and plump artichoke hearts. The small mountain of squash “pasta” gave the dish its richest component, against which the acid and salt from the other ingredients played nicely. It was tremendously satisfying to eat, not just for its superb flavor and texture but in knowing that it was, with the exception of its probable high butter content, quite healthy.

Not having the opportunity often, I ordered the duck, which I love for its indulgent fatty taste that always pairs so nicely with the fruit and berry sauces of the season. The chefs on this night were serving their duck with a syrupy, zesty orange glaze. Though my plate had an overabundance of the sauce which caused me to feel like I’d drunk a bottle of Karo corn syrup by the time I was done, it was tasty and an absolutely perfect pairing with the duck, making subtle any trace of gaminess it may have had.

Splitting hairs, I’d ask for the skin to be even crispier than it was. One can see from my pictures that it had certainly been cooked properly – scored and rendered until dark – but it stretched and pulled too much as I ate it. So this was, unfortunately, not quite my best experience with duck breast (Le Fou Frog is, so far).

The side of wild rice topped with custard was easily the most decadent side dish I’d ever eaten. One bite was enough. So was the next. And the next. I ended up eating the whole serving despite its unimaginable richness, which surprised me. I have to applaud the inventiveness but I’d guess this is a side that garners mixed reviews. Mine: gooood.

After all that, we were completely stuffed and dangerously cozy, so we each ordered an espresso, she devouring her tantalizing cube of natural brown sugar upon arrival, me admiring mine in concept but not in consumption.

In the end, though not a perfect meal, the setting and the cast of memories that surrounded us throughout the experience made for a magical evening and sparked eagerness to return soon. Café Sebastienne is a forgotten gem in our city, as is the museum itself. But be certain that on September 15th, for the rest of my life, I’ll think of it fondly. And I plan to return as a customer far more often than that.

Rating: Three Napkins

A Solid Experience at Grand St. Cafe

Restaurant: Grand St. Cafe
Location: 4740 Grand, KC MO
Food: Solid, unpretentious American cuisine
Service: A pleasure. Attentive but unobtrusive.
Atmosphere: Fun, but upscale, too. Decor looks outdated.
Price: Moderate. Sandwiches and burgers for $9, dinner entrees $17-$30
Rating: three napkins

For quite some time, I've wondered why Houston's seemed to be the only upscale yet reasonably priced American cuisine in town that provided a dependably pleasant experience on each trip. Who were its peers in the local restaurant scene? And why was I always going back there?

City Tavern downtown was mired with issues during its entire existence, finally bringing it to its knees and being replaced recently by the new Grunauer, which I'm anxious to try.

The Fairway Grill was nice, but I only had the pleasure of eating there once, before it turned into another houlihan's branch - such a disappointment.

There's J. Gilbert in OP, Capital Grille, Prime Rib Grill, The Majestic, Benton's, Plaza III, etc., but they're squarely in the well-defined steakhouse category, which is a different thing, entirely.

And then there are several other very decent American restaurants that aren't in the same price range (Bluestem, The American, Michael Smith, Skies, R Bar), level of service/ambience (The Westside Local, Blue Bird, Farmhouse), or seating capacity (Room 39, Pot Pie, Julian).



So, it would seem I've been on a bit of a quest to find a Houston's peer - hopefully a locally owned one - I can add to my repertoire of enjoyably predictable and high quality American fare restaurants for those frequent family events and life occasions that require a crowd pleasing, approachable menu and reasonably large dining room.

Enter Grand Street Cafe. With Groupon in hand, we made the quick jaunt across the Plaza Friday night for my very first meal there. This moderately sized restaurant is located just East of the Plaza's boundary and immediately South of the original Winstead's. I'd heard good things about the food, but no one seemed overly excited about the place... like it just didn't make for a special occasion. To say it's an unassuming restaurant on the exterior is an understatement. One could easily enter the secluded parking lot and not even notice its entrance, as it occupies the bottom floor of what looks like an off-plaza office building.

Inside, however, ordinary appearances are replaced by a sparkling bar above which hang luminous contemporary light fixtures. Also lighting up the place are the smiles of the patrons. Last night was one of those occasions when it seemed as though everyone was having the time of their life. It's an intangible quality that a few restaurants exhibit and adds attractiveness to the possibility of returning in the future.

Just past the bar on the right, as you walk back to the main dining area, is the exposed kitchen, clean and well-kept. Always a positive sign and indicator of good food to come. I'd be remiss not to mention, though, that the rest of the dining room - its floral wallpaper and rattan chairs - seemed outdated. So for those who want their dining experience to be ultra contemporary or classically chic, Grand St. strikes out, here.

I like my wine lists long and my menus short. Grand St. hit the mark on both. Elizabeth ordered up a $10 glass of Ferrari-Carano Chardonnay (good call) and I got the house Merlot (bad call). The waiter was visibly pleased with Elizabeth's decision ("Always a great choice") and, judging by the scowl on his face, had a hard time not kicking me for mine. I take it Grand St.'s philosophy is that the house wine is for cheapies. Given the accuracy of that assumption as pertains to myself, I say "point taken, Grand Street."

The weather being dangerously hot and humid, ceviche was a clear winner for our starter. Winner turns out to have been an understatement. In a short, pretty tapered glass, our waiter delivered a bright, citrusy, but meaty, helping of halibut, scallops, shrimp, onion, tomato, chunks of avocado, jalapeno and cilantro, layered on top a small amount of shredded romaine. We thoroughly enjoyed every bite of this delicious, cool, flavorful app that we spooned onto our assortment of tasty, crisp wafers. On the side, as an added bonus, was a square shot glass filled with what tasted like a very good virgin mary, finishing the dish with a nice peppery kick. Result: we were happy, yet appetized. Ready for the serious eating.

I went neolithic with my entree choice, ordering up Grand Street's massive double-thick pork chop. This mammoth chop of meat was brined, then marinated in herbs and spices, and cooked to a perfect medium. Not the juiciest of cuts, Grand street did a wonderful job ensuring the combination of their cooking process and ham hock sauce gave the pork a pleasingly tender texture. The ham hock jus itself added needed salt and a nice porky undertone. The whipped potatoes on the side were super-light in texture, almost like the cauliflower  puree we make at home often (a good thing), and the green beans, though the tiniest bit overcooked for my taste, were a nice green addition. I cleaned the plate.

Elizabeth went with chicken, which turned out to be some of the better chicken we've ever had. A warm plate with two succulent oven roasted cuts (thighs, I believe), bone-in and skin-on, with tart artichokes, tasty oven-roasted tomatoes that were so sweet and tangy they almost seemed to be sun dried, and a lemon jus came with green beans and two ravioli filled with Grand Street's homemade chicken sausage. The only element on the plate not remarkably tasty were, surprisingly, the ravioli, whose sausage filling was completely lacking in flavor - odd for sausage - and pasta casings were waxy... rubbery... needing a sauce or some kind of moisture. I'm intrigued about ordering this meal again, if for not other reason than to see if these ravioli were an anomaly. I bet they're usually better.

When the dessert menu came around, we laughed it off, already happy and round from our feast.

Circling back to where we started, my finding is that not only is Grand Street quite comparable to Houston's, but it's also a better value. I did a quick menu comparison and found many of the same items on both, Grand Street being equal or cheaper in each case:

Caesar Salad: Houston's - $13, Grand St. - $9
Ahi Tuna Salad: Houston's - $16, Grand St. - $13
Chicken Sandwich: Houston's - $13, Grand St. - $9
Burger: Houston's - $13, Grand St. - $9
Salmon: Houston's - $23, Grand St. - $20
KC Strip: Houston's - $38, Grand St. - $29
Filet: Houston's - $31, Grand St. - $30

A good value for good food. I'm not trying to say Grand St. is a top 10 place in town by any means, but I did like it (outdated decor being its biggest drawback), and I think it's an offering in a category that is surprisingly vacant in KC (or north of 95th, at least). So I give it three napkins, value being the largest driver for that third prestigious cloth. Hope you find it as enjoyable as I did.

Rating: three napkins