Brunch at Gratifi is a leisurely affair, whether or not you want it to be. A little less than two hours after we first sat down for brunch on Sunday, my wife's pain perdue arrived, soggy in the middle. Perhaps the kitchen had rushed it out, a too-late attempt at absolution for its egregious lateness. In my book, that's just adding insult to injury. It's also a shame, since it's among the better dishes at Gratifi, flavor-wise.
Crusted with toasty slivered almonds and boasting an eggy richness accented with notes of cinnamon and anise (almond extract or liqueur, I'd wager), the first quarter inch of the thick-cut brioche made the remainder stand out in stark contrast. The center wasn't underdone or, even better, "custardy"; it was essentially raw. My wife ate what she could quickly and grudgingly while the rest of us sat there, staring awkwardly at the empty places in front of us.
I'd been to Gratifi née Ziggy's Healthy Grill only a few times before the restaurant appeared on Restaurant: Impossible this past January. I don't remember much about the food I ate, which is telling in a way. Watching the episode, one of the before complaints is that the food was fine but boring. That's my memory, a general sense that everything was pretty good but nothing was great. Perfectly adequate, you might say. Certainly, nothing stood out.
Post-Impossible Gratifi, on the other hand, stands out. It stands out for things like a "seasonal menu" appetizer of grilled guacamole, which sounds like a nice update on a standard but suffers from its egregious lack of salt, acid and cilantro. There was half a lemon on the plate, but it seemed intended more for the odd hunk of frisée on the side of the plate. Sure, the guacamole was improved by a squeeze of lemon; that's the wrong citrus for the job, and the job itself is one better suited for the kitchen than for the table.
Post-Impossible Gratifi stands out for that week's Gratifi burger, a Juicy Lucy riff stuffed with bacon jam in slapdash fashion, some bites almost sugary from the porky filling, some with nary a trace of the stuff. The rest of the burger fared no better, with an uneven cook ranging from well past well done to virtually raw, the whole affair offering an odd mash-up of spongy and overly emulsified textures. The sandwich felt amateurish, right down to the barely toasted bread sogging through underneath.
That burger came on a slow Tuesday night, with no more than three tables occupied during our stay. That night the service was friendly and quick, though a bit soft on the details. It may seem like a small thing, but we might have been informed that the homemade marshmallow, catalyst for a September hot chocolate order, was not available that night. I don't know that its presence would have redeemed the drink, seemingly a mix of baking chocolate and hot -water, but the knowledge might have steered us to safer shores. Similar omissions and swaps seemed to be the unsettling norm rather than the exception.
A brunch order of eggs Benedict was supposed to come over house-made buttermilk biscuits. Instead, thin and broken cilantro hollandaise pooled between quickly disintegrating slices of brioche, overcooked poached eggs riding forlornly on top. The same swap appeared without comment on a breakfast sandwich. The bread wasn't as big a problem there, but the near total lack of seasoning, an unfortunately common theme, was.
Though they may be diamonds in the rough, there are things to like about Gratifi. The building itself is a charmer. It's an old home on a lovely if quickly gentrifying -corner of Montrose, made newly light and bright by the Restaurant: Impossible team, the only clear positive of the show's time there.
When he's there, owner Kevin Strickland is an active presence, refilling drinks and chatting with customers. When he realized that our brunch party had been sitting for the better part of half an hour with no drinks or menus, he apologized profusely and rushed out a couple of complimentary appetizers, even after we explained that our until-recently incomplete party had no doubt added to the confusion. We'd had both of the apps on a previous visit, and might have preferred to try something else, but the gesture was kind and genuine.
Along with the grilled guacamole, which still suffered from the aforementioned problems, and without the semi-solution of a lemon half tossed on the plate, Strickland also sent out a plate of edamame hummus. Whereas a previous visit had seen the texture marred by undercooked legumes, this time the spread came out light and fluffy. Gone, too, was the overly aggressive green-onion flavor, traded out for a brighter note of lemon to temper the vegetal tang of the beans. The hummus disappeared quickly, scooped up with fresh vegetables and thoughtfully toasted pita triangles.
