Brio
1112 W. Sixth Street, 499-0442
Dinner 5pm-12am, daily by Tom Philpott Flannery O’Connor wrote that “the lady who reads only books she thinks will
improve her will always be disappointed, because she can never know if they
have had the desired effect. But if by some chance she stumbles across a great
novel, she will know that something has happened to her.” An analogy could be
made with food. A great dinner, like a great book, happens to a person. More
than mere nourishment for the body, an ingenious meal can provide a veritable
epiphany for the senses, a feast not only for the taste buds but also for the
eyes and the nose. Of course, food imbued with epic grandeur cannot wisely be had every day, for
this would jade the palate and ruin the body. It is perhaps for the best, then,
that renowned chefs, those enchanters and magicians of flavor and presentation,
command such a hefty price for their savories. Be that as it may, people should
make a point of treating themselves occasionally, and I am happy to report a
superior experience can be had at Brio, the new restaurant launched by the
owners of Z Tejas. The kitchen, run by chef Raymond Tatum (formerly of
Jeffrey’s and 612 West), turns out dishes that, spaced out over the course of a
leisurely dinner, approach the sublime character of great fiction.
The over-arching theme of Brio’s cuisine – and, indeed, its glory – is the
tasteful fusion of Southwestern and Asian influences with traditional Western
techniques. While this combination has been the rage for some time on the West
Coast and in Santa Fe, it is relatively untapped in Austin. The flavors,
vibrant and often spicy-hot, with rice vinegar, ginger, lime, and cilantro,
merge well. One lingering question: Why slip Italian-style dishes into
the mix? Italian cuisine, at least the kind that sneaks into the Brio menu,
relies on delicate flavor. Crusty rustic bread served with fruity virgin
olive oil may be de rigueur in today’s haute restaurants, but
they do little to alert the Brio’s diner to the racy flavors to come. In the
interest of coherence and originality, Brio should stick to Asian and
Southwestern inflections. Instead of the bread, the chefs could take
inspiration from Barbara Tropp’s China Moon Cafe in San Francisco and create an
Asian-inspired pre-meal snack to greet diners, piquing their appetites for the
delights that follow.
Such delights are considerable. With the exception of the well-made but
out-of-place Margherita pizza ($7.95), every appetizer I tried I found superb.
The Grilled Portabello Mushroom ($7.50) layers the earthy flavor of wild
mushroom with the heat of a chili-pepper marinade, a rustic and spicy
combination echoed by the accompanying wedges of grilled grits spiked with
chiles. The latter, a variation of the Italian creation grilled polenta, is
just the sort of departure from standard cooking that Brio does so well.
The Shredded Duck with Scallion Pancakes ($7.95), Brio’s version of the
Chinese concoction mushu pork, also makes a fine beginning. With an ample pile
of shredded, spicy smoked duck, julienned cucumber, and mung sprouts, the diner
creates a kind of taco, wrapping these ingredients in round, thin sheets of
scallion-flecked pancakes. These elegant flat breads are something of a cross
between homemade flour tortillas and crepes. The roll is then dipped in a sauce
redolent of soy, ginger, rice vinegar, and garlic.
For a more traditional Western appetizer that works well with the menu’s other
offerings, try the Fresh Spinach Salad ($7.25). This simple dish combines
spinach leaves dressed in a racy port wine-raspberry vinaigrette, a round of
pungent goat cheese, encrusted with minced walnuts and then broiled, and a few
small, poached red pears, sliced and spread into fans. The dish’s color –
green, white, and burgundy – are as sharp and contrasting as its flavors; they
enchant the eye as much as its taste does the tongue.
The entr�e menu, for its part, features outstanding dishes from both
land and sea. The best may be the Sesame Salmon ($15.95), a flaky steak grilled
to a perfect medium-rare and seasoned with a sweet-fiery combination of soy and
wasabi. The steak rests on a bed of thick, sesame-oil scented udon noodles
mixed with pleasingly bitter Asian greens. Providing color contrast atop the
grill-darkened fish is a sprinkling of sesame seeds. The flavors and textures
combine strikingly, and the dish seems to increase in nuance with each bite.
The Seared Drum ($16.95), too, inspires praise. The well-browned fish,
separated into three crescent-shaped pieces, is fanned out over a creamy,
surprisingly mild horseradish sauce – a crab-laced, sweet corn salad on the
side for balance. To wake the dish up and add color, the chefs nestle a bit of
assertive goat cheese, some pur�ed black beans, and a serrano-enlivened
pico de gallo on a blue corn chip. Smear this combination over the fish
and mix it into the sauce, and the dish springs to life.
As for meat, at least with regard to the two dishes I tried, the kitchen
shifts gears, toning down the flavors and creating what might be called upscale
comfort food. The Grilled Pork Tenderloin ($13.95) features tender, rosy pink
pork medallions over a rich sauce of pur�ed cascabel peppers and cream.
The sauce could use a bit more zip, perhaps a dash of vinegar and more heat
from the chiles, as pork stands up nicely to assertive flavors. As it was,
however, the plate worked well, rounded out with white beans and vinegary
wilted chard. The Grilled Beef Tenderloin, too, satisfied; a cut of beef,
criss-crossed with grill marks placed over a mild but delicious white-bean
passilla pepper sauce. This dish included a wedge of potato pie layered with
leeks and cheese. Something about the sauce and meat combination suggests
homemade barbecue, while the pie hints at old-fashioned potatoes au
gratin. Chef Tatum has perhaps created the ultimate picnic dish for
gourmands.
Despite all the peppers, the food turns out to be quite wine-friendly. The
staff – brisk, knowledgeable, but perhaps too eager to praise every selection patrons make – steered me in consistently interesting directions in
wine choosing. The 1994 Caymus Conundrum ($33), a slightly sweet white, has a
big, almost champagne-like flavor profile, and can hold its own with the
spiciest food the kitchen turns out. The same can be said of the 1993 Kunde
“Old Vines” ($27), a spicy zinfandel with lots of backbone. Before dessert,
especially if you have worked your way through a substantial meat dish and need
a break, treat yourself to a glass of the 1980 Warre’s vintage port ($7.50).
For that matter, this superb wine, with its intense fruit and mind-boggling
finish, could easily stand in for dessert.
But then again, you won’t want to ignore the creations of pastry chef Mark
Paul. Those who worship chocolate will fall to their knees before his Grand
Marnier Chocolate P�t� ($4.50), a dense triangle of bittersweet
chocolate flavored with Grand Marnier and espresso. The p�t� sits
on a luscious coffee-infused creme anglaise, surrounded by assorted
fresh berries. Equally decadent is the Brio Trio ($4.50), which layers three
separate ganaches (made of white, bittersweet, and milk chocolate) between two
thin wedges of chocolate cake. (The restaurant’s beer list, which generally
lacks imagination, could use a couple of sweet porters or stouts to pair with
these fabulous desserts.) Diners seeking a lighter finish to their meals are
well-steered to the seasonal fruit tart. Chef Paul currently fills his perfect,
buttery pastry crusts with thin slices of baked sweet-tart pears.
If only the ambiance could match the overall brilliance of the food. The
restaurant is located in an old woodframe house on West Sixth Street (the site
of the old Olive’s Pizza). So far, so good. But the bland decor – beige walls
with white trim, white tablecloths – all but sterilizes the antique feel of the
house. Worse still are the acoustics. On a busy night at Brio, with every table
in the none-too-expansive dining room full and the bar packed with wine
gulpers, the din can overwhelm quiet conversation and even the joys of the
table. Luckily, a pleasant outdoor dining area provides a refuge from this
aural tyranny.
On a busy night spent inside the dining room, dinner at Brio resembles a great
novel with a few typographical errors, sometimes disrupting the illusions
conjured by the author. Outside, though, with the cool breeze of Austin fall
blowing, diners can experience the magic of Chefs Tatum and Paul to the hilt.
They will know, like the lady mentioned by Flannery O’Connor, that something
has happened to them. n
This article appears in October 13 • 1995 and October 13 • 1995 (Cover).