Communal Restaurant

Note

Although we typically concentrate on restaurants in Salt Lake County, we occasionally find out-of-area restaurants worthy of sharing.

She said:

I’m often enamored of vintage architecture and design elements. You know: hardwood floors, stained glass windows, old brick, antique fixtures, etc. Those features were present at Communal. I was impressed by the crisp, white plates, the stoneware bowls, the cloth linens, and colorful artwork. Also, the menu listed only mouthwatering selections: buttermilk pancakes, housemade brioche French toast, housemade hot chocolate, and more. My expectations for a superb culinary experience ran high.

We took our seats at the end of a row of two-person tables. A single beam supported each tabletop, with only a few inches between them. This must be one of the “Communal” tables. At first, we didn’t mind, but as more patrons steadily arrived, they filled the entire communal table. Strangers. We soon sat almost shoulder to shoulder with complete strangers. Strangers for brunch! As I lamented the loss of my personal bubble, Brian chided me with “Share the planet” and told me it’s a good thing I don’t live in Europe.

When our chia coconut milk pudding arrived, I looked at it dubiously, but the burst of “bubbles” on my tongue, along with the pineapple and macadamia nuts, added sweetness and texture. Yum! So far, so good.

Then came my entrée: croissant Benedict. I chose the avocado option; the other choices included prosciutto and Florentine. The croissant was light and buttery, and the eggs were poached to perfection. However, the miso Hollandaise sauce was almost inedible, suffering from a heavy-handed dose of salt and pepper.

He said:

Communal Restaurant has the modern vibe of a classy, farm-to-table restaurant, bringing fresh, local, and sustainable ingredients to its menu. Housed in an old, brick building in the center of downtown Provo, it doesn’t have a lot of room, but it successfully transforms its limited space into an elegant dining area. The prep kitchen is hidden in the basement, but the cooking area sits behind a counter in full view of the diners.

We began by ordering two diet colas. I always use the generic term for this type of beverage, mostly because it amuses me when they frequently respond, “We only have Pepsi,” as if Pepsi isn’t a brand of cola. To our delight, they had both Coke and Pepsi products on fountain. I wondered if they might simply be afraid to take a stand, to choose a side. (The right side to be on, of course, is Pepsi).

I was thrilled when Kathy pointed out the chia coconut milk pudding on the menu, since I love almost anything with coconut in it. But since she brought it up, I was surprised when she wouldn’t try it until I had sampled it and survived. While I enjoyed the creaminess of the pudding, the subtle texture of the chia seeds, the sweetness of the pineapple, and the heavenly crispness of the toasted macadamias, I wondered if these were the same type of chia seeds that are used in Chia Pets. (Apparently, they are).

I ordered the Eggnog Brioche French Toast from the daily specials and added a side of scrambled eggs to ensure that I had some protein. The eggs arrived a bit well-done, which I don’t mind, but it’s not a common preference. The French Toast was also a bit well-done. More on that in a moment. The plate had four slices of French Toast. Not the four triangular half-slices that I usually see, but four full slices. What’s more, they were probably the thickest slices of French Toast I have ever seen, creating an enormous portion that I couldn’t hope to finish. A wonderfully crisp exterior surrounded a delightfully gooey interior. I was curious to discover how the buttermilk syrup would taste, but I couldn’t discern any flavor other than a sugary sweetness.

Unfortunately, the French Toast was just a bit overcooked. The slices had an unappealing blackness to them. For the most part, they tasted fine, but I occasionally got a slight taste of char. I sat with my back to the kitchen, but Kathy says one chef was training the other. I don’t know if that explains the misfire, but the blunder dampened my enjoyment of the meal.

Conclusion:

We can see what Communal Restaurant was striving to do. Unfortunately, a few minor missteps prevented them from succeeding. If these errors came from a chef-in-training, perhaps they’ll soon reach their potential. We hope so, as we found much to enjoy.