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Northern Ohio Live

Return to Fire by Rita Grabowski, October 21, 2001

To borrow a phrase from the rocking lyrics of "Gimme Some Loving," by The Spencer Davis Group, "This place is hot." Fire: Food and Drink, in Shaker Square, has turned out to be just what I envisioned, after touring the empty space with owner/chef Doug Katz earlier this year. The restaurant is chic, the ingredients used are of the highest quality, prepared and presented without pretense. Katz wanted to offer familiar, comforting food with a contemporary twist. Fire delivers.

We arrived nearly fifteen minutes early for our 7:00 p.m. reservation. (You will need reservations. Call ahead - far ahead - for Friday and Saturday nights.) Our table wasn't ready yet, but I didnﾕt want to wedge my way into a seat at the cozy and bustling bar, so we spent a few pleasant minutes outside. I noticed the subtle appropriateness of the lamp above Fires door. The lamp does not sport bulbs, but rather three flickering orange tongues of flame. When I checked back a few minutes later, our table was ready. The relative calm of the reception station quickly gives way to the charged, high-energy atmosphere of the main dining room and open kitchen. Tables and chairs are close together. Food runners and bussers maneuver gracefully through slivers of open space. To counteract the sound-bouncing qualities of exposed brick and polished wood floors, the ceiling is covered with black acoustical material, fastened with screws and round, silvery washers. Stainless steel is a component of the d残or, along with terra-cotta and raw umber. Mechanical components of the structure are flaunted, not hidden, with the polished silver vents of the HVAC system, which suggest wide-reaching arms of a robotic air-support system.

Like the atmosphere, the wine list is fun and eclectic, featuring four whites and four reds by the glass. The selections by the bottle include offerings from places as diverse as Oregon, Australia and South Africa, and range in price from $20 to $72 (not counting the Moet & Chandon Nectar, at $110). There is also full bar service and a selection of beers, including something imaginatively titled "Flying Dog Doggie Style Ale," which tied for first place with "Fat Bastard Shiraz" in my unofficial favorite name-competition. Appetizers sounded fabulous. We sampled fire-roasted banana peppers, sausage and tomato ($8), cured salmon and corn cakes ($10), and portabella mushroom and Gruyere pizza ($8). Seriously hot wax peppers stuffed with sweet Italian sausage were too hot for one dining companion, but were relished by another. The citrus-cured, gravlax- style salmon was buttery-rich, topped with finely shredded vegetables, fresh dill and cr塾e fra把he on a tender, eggy crepe-like corn cake. It was divided and promptly vanished, as did the pizza. Tangy Gruy俊e and earthy portabellas were supported by a perfectly crisp and crunchy crust. Our only complaint was that the bread we were promised before the appetizers didnﾕt appear until we were nearly finished with our salads, so the tomato sauce that accompanied the stuffed peppers went unsopped. Four of us shared two salads: prosciutto and melon ($7), and mixed greens with "firecracker" ($4). The considerate kitchen divided the salads for us. The prosciutto and melon, topped with fresh mesclun greens tossed with champagne vinaigrette, was declared "as good as when we had it in Italy" by our dinner companions. The "firecrackers" were thin, crisp fresh-baked breadsticks, intensely seasoned with cumin and sesame seeds. Sturdy salt shakers were on the tables, but no pepper. We thought we would be offered fresh cracked pepper, but the offer was never made. A few of us missed it on our salads and entr仔s. When the bread did arrive, it was wonderful and crusty, nestled in the bottom of a paper bag rubber-stamped with the word "bread," and accompanied by triangular slabs of sweet butter. I had used my butter knife to surgically divide the salmon appetizer. It was whisked away with the appetizer plates and never replaced. I didnﾕt need a knife for my entr仔: Atlantic cod, clams and creamed corn ($20). I had to get the lowdown on the dish from our server, since the words "creamed corn," for me, still call up the yellow gelatinous glop that comes out of a can. This was nothing like that. The "creamed corn" was actually a light, creamed chowder, with clam broth, corn and cubes of potatoes. The cod floated above the chowder, topped with bright leaves of fresh steamed spinach. The cod collapsed into firm flakes at the slightest fork pressure; the steamed littleneck clams were sweet treasures. The center-of-the-plate chop on the pork chop, butter beans and cole slaw entr仔 ($18), was easily one-and-one-half inches thick, seared medium as ordered and incredibly moist and flavorful from its time spent in the hot confines of the clay tandoor oven, which was fired with cherry, oak and apple wood. The slaw was finely shredded and dressed in a light vinaigrette. The butter beans had been mashed, stirred with sage and crisp bacon bits, topped with cheese and passed under the broiler. This was an interesting, but unexpected twist. One diner missed the explosion of velvet butteriness one bites into when the beans haven't been mashed, but the presentation was enjoyed, and the chop was perfection. The crispy duck and spaetzle ($23) was delivered well done, as requested, with crackling skin and silky, nongreasy meat. The spaetzle were tiny, tender and delicate, and actually could have been a bit more rustic and robust to stand up to the assertive duck juices. Nevertheless, every morsel vanished. At the table of three to my left, two of the entr仔s ordered were the duck. It deserves to be popular. So many bad things can happen to pesto that I hesitate to order it. An adventurous companion (who is also an accomplished pesto-maker) declared the rock shrimp linguini and pesto ($17) to be every bit as good as his homemade. It was not oily, not sticky - a perfect blend of fresh basil, garlic and top-shelf cheese. Both the pasta and tender rock shrimp were wonderfully al dente.

Desserts were so flawless that one companion resolved, the next time she visits Fire, to begin her meal with dessert. We enjoyed caramelized nectarine pound cake ($6) a dense, buttery square topped with saut仔d nectarine slices in a warm cinnamon-allspice glaze, and a dollop of fresh whipped cream. It was a triumph of simplicity. The forty-layer cashew crepe torte ($7) managed to be decadently rich but surprisingly light. Gracing a dramatic, triangular taupe plate, garnished with whipped cream and a translucent, glass-thin wedge of cashew nut brittle, it was drop-dead yummy. Coffee and decaf were fresh and flavorful. Fire plans to begin serving Sunday brunch by the end of September, and hopes to add lunches during October.

The comfort that Fire offers doesn't come from an overstuffed, cushy, hushed atmosphere. Instead, it is an energizing setting with food that comforts and excites. SIDE BAR INFORMATION: Four and a half stars.=