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Thursday, March 6, 2008
Feeding Frenzy: Porter and Frye
When I saw that Porter & Frye had opened, on February 21, I started writing a blog post wondering if local critics would give Steven Brown and his crew the standard six weeks to get on their feet before reviewing them. Then I got sidelined wondering what I myself would do. On the one hand, it’s the most important restaurant to open in Minnesota since La Belle Vie, and readers are dying to know about it. On the other, I just about always stick to the six-week policy of letting a restaurant find itself before visiting. That’s what the Association of Food Journalist guidelines recommend, and I think that’s fair: After all, if you’d looked at a three-day old Albert Einstein, you’d have concluded: “turns red and yells; nothing special….”Dang! I didn’t even have time to finish a blog post wondering what to do before the answers came streaming in: Kathie Jenkins, of the Pioneer Press, fired the opening salvo, panning the restaurant as a “train wreck” in a remarkably harsh “first-impressions” review. Rick Nelson, of the Star Tribune, volleyed back with a “now-open” rave. Then Andrew Zimmern weighed-in, calling Jenkins a “brain-dead moron” and cataloguing a Porter & Frye meal that sounded beyond dreamy. Holy cow! Now what do I do?
I can almost hear my mom asking: Just because Kathie, Rick, and Andrew decide to jump off a bridge, are you going to jump, too?
As much as that image undoubtedly delights any number of local cooks, don’t get your hopes up. I have too much to live for.
And yet, I am now going to weigh in with my own hyperbolic review based on a single visit, because, what, am I going to be the only girl at the slumber party without a Bratz sleeping bag? I don’t think so. So, without further adieu:
My One Dinner at Porter & Frye
by Dara Moskowitz Grumdahl
My one dinner at Porter & Frye happened on a cold and snowy day. I got to the restaurant through the skyways so I was not cold and snowy myself. The skyways smelled like new paint and carpet because they just got built. When I looked out the window of the skyways, I saw cars that were very wet and snowy and I was glad to be inside.
At the door of the restaurant I was met by many cute women in black pants. They seemed a little baffled with what to do with my date and I, even though we had a reservation. However, they were very excited to see us. They reminded me of a lot of volunteer chaperones at a junior prom—enthusiastic, but not really clear on where to put all their energy. This would be the pattern. They led us through the dead-empty basement dining room—which has a contemporary feel, not unlike the basement dining room at Chambers—but is lighter-seeming, quieter, and more serene.
We ordered a lot of food. Some of it was beautiful. For instance, the Berkshire pork terrine looked like a tiny birthday cake. It was formed into a cylinder and robed with a rich, buttery terrine coating. When I spread that terrine on the accompanying raisin-toast points, I thought, It doesn’t get any better than this. It was rich, complicated, humble, and perfect. Do note that it’s on the sharing menu; order it for yourself and you’ll never finish it.
The Wild Acres chicken ($20) with “corn-meal porridge” was basically chicken and grits—and marvelous. The chicken was crisp, salty, and savory, the grits creamy and devourable. Yet, the restaurant’s French onion soup ($8) seemed uncentered, and I found the entrée of blue prawns ($19) out of balance. The ravioli were too sweet, and the prawns tasted unpleasantly fishy. The desserts also were batting .500: A chèvre cheesecake was spectacular, the accompanying balls of poached pear arranged on a swipe of chèvre was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen outside a toy box, only much more avant-garde. Our server was very sweet and attentive, but unable to answer just about any question regarding wine, cocktails, or food, though he did have good strategies for overcoming his lack of training. Namely, he brought over samples of wine, and went to the kitchen to get the answer to a question. Overall, he was trying hard and I’m sure in a few weeks the whole eager-wanting-to-help thing will morph into an actually helping thing.
In conclusion, I concluded that Porter & Frye is a promising new restaurant. It was not a train wreck, but it wasn’t the ballet either. If I had a birthday in the next few weeks, I might try it because it’s fun to do something new and the energy is very high, but if I had to take the Queen of England to dinner, I’d take her to La Belle Vie.
So, take that! My real review will run in the magazine in May. In the meantime, anyone and everyone between La Crosse and Montevideo is hereby invited to spew invective this way because that’s what made America great. That, and a free press, I mean.
Posted on Thursday, March 6, 2008 in Permalink
Comments may be edited for length, clarity, or appropriateness.
Reader Comments:
Thanks, Dara. I was counting on finally hearing an objective and constructive criticism and I knew it would come from you. Kudos! And because I have grown to live by your 6 week 'rule', I'll wait for the official review to agree or disagree.
Agreed. I just ate there and loved it. The pork terrine was fabulous.
Also agreed. Four of us had dinner over the weekend and it was divine (the lamb melted in my mouth, scallops were perfect, rib-eye was extreme and exceptional). The service on this occasion was professional, knowledgeable and reserved. I have been in for lunch on a weekend and had a much different level of experience...not so pleasant, slow food and a nervous sort of tension. Maybe they are just hitting their stride.
Dara, I loved your review of Porter & Frye's Berkshire pork terrine.My question is the complex sauce of cream butter, Armagnac and potato flour a baked around the terrine or a warm cream sauce. I love your articles they are smart and insightful. Thanks Lori
Went there last saturday and it took an hour and a half to get our dinners and the lobster was undercooked. Don't waste your time and money there.
We eat out frequently (3-4 times per month) and like to try new restaurants. I can honestly say, without a doubt, that this was the single worst dining experience I have ever had in Minneapolis.
- I was given the wrong beer before dinner… when I questioned it the waiter assured me that he “pushed the button” himself and that it was what I ordered… it wasn’t.
- Over the course of the night our group (5) ordered 3 “dirty” martinis. None had the appearance or taste of having olive brine in them. When we questioned the waiter (Jeremy) he assured us that they were what we ordered…. They weren’t
- A server came to the table with an appetizer and my soup and proclaimed “Ok, help me out with where these go, I’M IN A REALLY BIG HURRY.”
- My soup was barely lukewarm.
- I had the “double” order of mussels as an entrée – the double order contained 17 mussels.
- My wife ordered the pork tenderloin and was brought beef tenderloin instead.
- One in our party was drinking a glass of chardonnay at the bar prior to dinner – it was around $10. When we were seated she asked for another glass… but was unsure the name. The waiter took a guess at what it was, and another glass was served. We were surprised to find out that he switched her to a wine that was $25 per glass… and then sold her 3 glasses of it. When quizzed, he informed us that it cost $75 per bottle. Great service.
- Upon realizing that we were not fully pleased with our experience, the waiter (Jeremy) basically threw our check at us, and didn’t even offer as much as a “Thank you for dining.” Totally classless.
All of the above for the low, low price of $400.
I am horrified and appalled. On behalf of all restaurant people everywhere: I apologize.
Holy god.
But, I'll note this neatly proves the rap on that place: Horrendous service. The one bit of solace I can offer you is that a new General Manager (the person responsible for everything that happens on the floor) started today. His name is Scott Ida, he's an old pro. I know this may well be outside your comfort level, but I'd strongly encourage you to send a paper letter to Ida at Porter and Frye telling him of your experience. Why?
One, you deserve better, and you might get better if the restaurant offers to make it right. Two, the restaurant will never improve if they don't have facts to bludgeon bad-actors (Jeremy!) with. Three, what do you have to lose, except a few more minutes of your time? Print up your post, put your name on it, and put it in an envelope. Maybe nothing will happen, but maybe something will and you'll be responsible for making the world a little better.
Plus, it will make me feel better. Sheesh. Sorry. What a mess.