Jan. 10, 2003
Bar Food--Getting Beyond Burgers

Is "good bar food" an oxymoron? Not at all, we say. We delight in ending a day of outdoor adventure in a laid-back, home-town tavern where we can feel right at home in boots and Polartec. And in recent years, we've found that when it comes to food, some of Northern Michigan's saloons have gotten 'way beyond burgers.

     A few weeks ago, our twilight quest for a cut-your-own Christmas tree left us on the lookout for a Margarita and something to eat, and we found ourselves in Charlevoix. We knew it was Charlevoix because the guy on the next stool was extoling the architecture of the new entrance to the Louvre, but it was definitely a bar because there was basketball on TV and half the clientele was in buffalo plaid. As it happened, the bar was Whtney's.

     The Margaritas were predictably welcome, but food-wise we were ready for the same-old same-old when lasagne and seafood chowder caught our eye on the menu. Our hearts leapt, and within minutes Proprietress Gina Whitney had a salad of spring greens and balsamic on the bar in front of us and was headed back to the kitchen for a steaming bowl of chowder. It was Manhattan style ¾ generous hunks of fresh seafood, tomato, veg, potato, and corn, swimming in a savory tomato-based broth. The lasagne was a boatload of ricotta, sausage, mushroom, and homemade marinara sauce, layered with pasta and straight from the oven. Big food, for sure, and a doggie bag preserved still another meal for later, yet it was right there in bar-food territory at $27 and change, including those Margaritas, a cup of coffee and a slice of Key lime pie. Whitney's bar food is so far beyond burgers, there's no looking back.

     Some outstanding gyros and tzatziki came our way a few days later in our own home-town Elk Rapids bar, the Town Club, when lunchtime found us with nothing quick and easy in the fridge. The day's $5.95 lunch-plate special was roast beef, potatoes and gravy, but we had soup and a sandwich in mind. We couldn't decide between vegetable-beef and chili, so we chose a cup of each, and ordered a Greek salad and a gyro to share. The Town Club is known for its grilled chicken gyros and tzatziki sauce. Okay, call it "dilled vinaigrette" if you want; there are as many recipes for tzatziki as there are Greeks, almost all involving garlic, yogurt, cucumber, dill, and vinegar or citrus.

     The Town Club is classic bar, with enough TVs for all the games you'd want, plus darts, pool table and bowling machine, and its food is favored by families and working folks from miles around. Owner Brendan Burke has no chef, per se, so the role rotates. In a tiny, back-bar kitchen the chef du jour cranks out the gryos and hearty, scratch-made soups and salads, plus those plate lunches, burgers, sandwiches and fries at prices that would make a miser blush. Our two soups, generous Greek salad, gyro plate with pickle and chips, and coffee set us back just $17.50, including tip.

     It also made us wonder why some complain there's no  "ethnic" food in Northern Michigan. Whose ethnic are they talking about, anyway? We think the whitefish platter at Leland's Bluebird Bar is as genuinely "ethnic" as the bouillabaisse in Marseilles. Come to think of it, burgers are rather ethnic, too, even the bleu cheese ones of which Art's Tavern in Glen Arbor is so proud. What we'd refer you to at Art's, however, is grilled-salmon Caesar salad.

     As bars go, Art's is pretty tame, with souvenir T-shirts on display and baby-booster seats under the pool table. But there was nothing tame about the grilled-salmon Caesar. Our generous section of half-inch filet came on a platter of romaine and was etched with picture-book grill marks and trimmed of fishy fat. It was flaky and flavorful and sang a nice duet with Caesar dressing. For about 20 bucks, including an introductory cup of chowder, a glass of Leelanau white, and a tip suited to talkative but spiffy service, it was a fine way to get beyond burgers.