Pat My Butter

it may have been a year ago when i first heard about emmer and rye (then just called “emmer”, i believe).  chef seth caswell, of stumbling goat fame, has been navigating the usual hurdles of opening a restaurant – finding a space, keeping investors, collaborating with a bartender.  his hard work led him to struggling julia’s (a seattle chain with mediocre american food) in queen anne, which needed a buyer as much as he needed a space.

though the restaurant is open, the work is far from over.  a pro to represent the “rye” is still needed.  the wine list is itty-bitty, uninspiring, and much of it is unavailable.  the restaurant itself – an old house with beautiful wood floors, personality, and various rooms where the tables are dispersed – is lovely, but plagued by décor decisions made by a country grandmother, much of which remains from julia.   heavy brown curtains and wacky pictures of old farmhouses are just too dowdy, particularly when paired with the funny framed “emmer and rye” poster.  the ornate, high backed chairs beg for a lazy susan and checkered table cloths.

that all being said, it takes only a plate of farro fries for the silly interior to fade away (as it hopefully will in reality as caswell becomes more and more liberated from the ghost of julia’s).  secondary qualities of emmer and rye may be in flux, but it’s clear the menu has been long planned out (and indeed, a sample version of it was on the website long ago).  the fries are the thickest you’ve seen, tender, crispy bricks filled with toothsome, textured farro (a hearty grain and synonym for emmer).  at brunch they come with a poached egg, mushrooms, and hollandaise!

the best thing about the menu is that every item can be had large or small.  this means the decision making process is eased because you get to choose twice as many things.  what i’m still thinking about:  roasted sunchokes (the world’s best root vegetable) with fingerling potatoes and fabulously potent black truffle aioli ($4/$8).  thick pappardelle noodles, made with whole wheat flour, that came with the braised rabbit (an unremarkable blank canvas as rabbit generally is), hearty and nutty in the best possible way.  chard, carrots, and thyme rounded things out, but the noodles totally took the cake.  also well-loved at our table – the goat crepinette (a flattish sausage, $11/$17).  non-gamey, tender, crispy, and just like-able, particularly with its butternut squash gratin and black trumpet shrooms.

mussels, four big fatties in the small portion ($6), were sweet and unfishy, lolling in squash and chilies.  oysters ($9/$14), nearly as big as the mussels, came in the form of a pan roast with cream and spinach.  both dishes were straightforward and tasty.  but the beef ribs ($10/$16) were over-cooked and gamey and their carrots and brussel leaves had made a commitment they couldn’t live up to.  a bowl of just the black truffle ozette (a knobby, fingerling-like potato) purée would have been a far superior dish.

there are those who turn their nose up at bread pudding.  it’s made with leftovers, they say, it’s so heavy to eat last.  it’s so boring.  fine, fine, but for some reason i crave carbs for dessert.  and this bread pudding, chocolate, is different than most.  it’s so oozy that the bread pieces have practically lost their autonomy, making it almost a cake.  it’s bubbling hot and just a bit boozy.  wish i had one with my coffee right now.

the food here is not too fussy, not too fancy, not trying to distract you with flourishes and shiny quenelles.  at least with this winter menu, it’s mostly as brown and tan as the dining room (except for the squash found in a huge percentage of dishes)

in a couple of months, i’d like to return to emmer and rye.  with spring on the menu, an established bartender on staff, and (we can hope) décor more suited to the thoughtful, minimal food, it could easily become the second place on the top of queen anne where you’d actually want to eat.