Sometimes I daydream that I live in Ladd's Addition. It's perpetually summer,
my neighborhood rose garden is in glorious bloom, and I while away my evenings
drinking gin-and-tonics on my front porch.
Oh--and once a week or so, I saunter a few streets over to Henry's Cafe. Restrained
and simple, "It's that wonderful little neighborhood bistro you always wish
you had," one Southeast resident gloats to me. "And we have it!"
Back to reality. I have power over neither the real-estate market nor the good
Lord's thermostat. But a meal at Henry's is always an affordable possibility.
The small storefront, nestled under a peaked red-tile roof, is one of seven
eateries crunched into the retail pocket at Southeast Clinton Street and 26th
Avenue near the Clinton Street Theatre. Henry's arrived on the scene in February
'99, replacing Greg's, a trinket shop that had moved to Hawthorne Boulevard.
With the help of her father (the eponymous Henry) and a business partner, owner-chef
Michelle Wong gutted the place and remodeled.
The result is a remarkably tasteful update on the traditional diner. The requisite
stove and hood are in full view, part of a gleaming stainless-steel installation
that includes a high shelf for wine bottles. Far from Formica, the counter is
walnut, with a soapstone surface that echoes the tops of the wrought-iron-based
bistro tables. Floors are fir; walls are a mossy green up to wainscot level,
where they become the shade of cappuccino foam.
When Wong is cooking, it's as though a prop stylist has prepped her workspace
for a photo shoot. There is the wide loaf of Pearl Bakery ciabbatta, knife at
the ready; the glass bowl, brimming with new potatoes; the 20-some petite skillets
stacked atop the gleaming stainless hood. Even a glass jar of Cap'n Crunch has
charm. It is impossible to fathom how this still life can look so pristine so
near frying bacon.
The genre of the fare--simple comfort food with restrained panache--brings
Mother's Bistro to mind. Everything is made from scratch, so the sausage is
zesty and herbaceous, the granola fresh-baked. Henry's Meatloaf--garlic, onion,
sage, Italian parsley, brioche breadcrumbs, pork and ground beef (with pinches
of sea salt and cayenne pepper)--is more a rich country pâté, particularly
when it reappears as a lunch item, wrapped in bacon and served cold between
floppy ciabbatta slices.
Evenings here are quiet, characterized by neighborhood habitués who
like to relax with an interesting bottle of wine (the short list is eclectic).
Le petit déjeuner is the dominant meal; breakfast items are served
into the afternoon, and the place brims with weekend hipsters seeking brunch
and mimosas.
Wong had no formal culinary training when she opened her first venture, the
more casual and bohemian Common Grounds Coffee House on Hawthorne. So it was
wise to focus on breakfast at Henry's before branching out to dinners a year
ago. That's why, if you ask Wong to name a signature dish, she'll say the omelettes.
Her basic offering is the 36 Francs, flavored with two cheeses. Although at
$6.25 it's a bit pricier than the name might imply, fresh rosemary, thyme and
Italian parsley plus a side of those new potatoes justify the extra buck. Even
better is the Meat-N-Potatoes, a hunter's breakfast for the kind of sportsman
who fills his flask with 21-year-old scotch. A spicy, savory hash of crumbled
sausage and apple-smoked bacon is folded into fluffy egg pillows aromatic with
extra-sharp cheddar.
As if to remind us we're only one degree of separation from a diner, each dish
arrives with a wink: a fresh wedge of orange. And the ubiquitous grilled polenta,
with its glob of marinara sauce, blanket of baby spinach greens and melting
lid of extra-sharp cheddar, is the sloppy Joe of this establishment.
Wong still has a few kinks to work out. For example, her laudable respect for
ingredients leaves one longing for a toothbrush after dining on either the polenta
or the otherwise-smashing grilled vegetarian sandwich. The culprit? Baby spinach
greens, just wilted by the heat of other ingredients, but still bald enough
to be chalky.
The max wait staff is two, so service can be spotty. During one brunch I had
to politely request a fresh-squeezed orange juice not once but thrice (still,
it was worth the wait). And menu items may not always be available, as one frustrated
lunch companion found out.
But in other ways, Henry's glimmers with grace. The espresso drinks are perfection:
piping-hot milk, creamy foam. Tea arrives steeping elegantly in the pot, with
an extra saucer for the leaf strainer. A linen-clad dress form (a designer's
refined mannequin) stands sentry by the bathroom door. And the pastry case is
a downright dapper display of Wong's skills with sweets.
Unfortunately for my Southeast confidante, Henry's has blossomed, and the rest
of us have discovered its purlieu. Anyone know of any cheap rentals in Ladd's
Addition?
