Hoof and Vine

He said:

We went to the Hoof and Vine to celebrate Kathy’s longevity. I hope to someday live as long as she has. Happy birthday, Kathy!

The Hoof and Vine is one of the quartet of local restaurants from Chef Ken Rose¹. As its name suggests, the Hoof and Vine built its menu around meats and wines. Thankfully, they chose the latter as their décor motif. Hundreds of wine bottles—some full, others not—adorn the space. Above the entrance to the kitchen hangs a wall-to-wall panel of corks. Another wall features an art piece in the shape of a wine bottle, itself made from the bottoms of wine bottles. Along the wall over our table hung a dozen bottles used as vases. A small glass jar of freshly cut roses and a votive candle sat on our hewn-wood table.

We enjoyed the bottle art but stuck to our typical diet colas. The bread service consisted of the same great sourdough baguette and herbed butter that we found at The Wild Rose, one of Hoof and Vine’s sister restaurants. It is indeed worth serving again. Also in common was one of the salad choices, the Tiburon House Salad. I enjoyed it again, with mixed greens, a basil and balsamic vinaigrette, Fontina cheese, candied pecans, and sliced Fuji apples. We also enjoyed an appetizer of Fried Brussel Sprouts, made with Parmesan cheese, plenty of smoked bacon, and a balsamic glaze.

Yes, the menu listed it as Brussel Sprouts. Yet, the name comes from the history, as the vegetable has, er . . . roots . . . in northern Europe. They were first cultivated in the 13th century near Brussels, Belgium. Therefore, named after the City of Brussels, shouldn’t its name be Brussels sprouts? I believe that it is, although it is quite common to find Brussel sprouts. I think part of the problem is putting the two S-sounds together can be awkward. One of them is often elided, and that elision has often worked its way into its spelling. You probably didn’t care, but I strive for that sort of accuracy in my reviews, at least in my own, pedantic way. You’re welcome.

For my entrée, I selected the 12 oz. New York Strip. I enjoyed it, but I think they over-trimmed the fat, taking with it much of the great flavor associated with this cut. Still, it possessed great juiciness and a proper sear. I ordered it with the Shallot/Herb Mashed Potatoes, which were great. Flavorful and lumpy as I like them, they disappointed only in that I wished for more. I also got the same vegetables that appeared on all the plates, namely green beans, a single baby carrot (not one of the “baby-cut” carrots), and a puree of rutabaga.

I never had rutabaga until I was an adult and went to New Brunswick, Canada, Kathy’s homeland. There, they call the golden vegetable a “turnip,” and they call the purple-top variety a rutabaga, just the opposite of our custom here. These rutabagas were often quite large, sometimes larger than a human head. They would often cube them and boil them or sometimes mash them like potatoes. I developed a taste for them, and I appreciated finding them at Hoof and Vine.

She said:

Birthday? What birthday? I ain’t celebrating no stinking birthday! But Brian had different ideas. He booked a dinner reservation at Hoof and Vine, but didn’t tell me where we were going. I was pleasantly surprised. We invited our son to accompany us, and off we went.

The restaurant is located in a shopping district and doesn’t look like much from the outside. The interior, however, is warm and inviting. It’s a classier version of a pub. Hip. The décor is very much centered on wine and relaxation: a cork wall, art fashioned from the bottoms of different colored wine bottles—greens, browns, and yellows.

Of course, as the name suggests, the menu focuses mostly on steaks (cows) and wine (grape vines), although there’s also elk, salmon, and ahi tuna thrown in there to appeal to different palates. I chose the Bavette steak. As with all of the other dishes, it came with green beans, a single baby carrot, and choice of potato: herb mashed or funeral potatoes. The latter is a Utah take on pommes de terre prepared au gratin. They were delicious, but some additional choices might have been nice. My beef was perfectly medium rare, moist and tender, and lightly salted. It was accompanied by a trio of sauces served in a white ceramic, divided dish.

Oh, and I forgot to mention the side of pureed rutabaga. Back home, we always called them turnips. It is common practice in Atlantic Canada to boil them and then mash them with real butter and a bit of brown sugar. I always loved it when my mother served it to us. A treat.

Overall, my birthday dinner was a lovely and pleasant experience. It would have been splendid if I could have had all of my kids and grandkids nearby to help me celebrate. And cake. Chocolate cake. I wish I’d had enough room to enjoy a dessert.

Conclusion:

The Hoof and Vine offers a simple menu, but a fine one. A great place for a steak lover, a wine lover, or both.