It's Not A Reuben

I had dinner at American Craft tonight. I promise this isn't a restaurant review but it's going to sound an awful lot like a restaurant review.

I've been waiting for this place to open. Found out about it in a Beer Advocate link on Twitter, with the restaurant-to-be billing itself as "a full service restaurant and bar celebrating the best of artisanal American cuisine" helmed by a chef who has "a strong commitment and dedication to local products and ingredients and will source as many items as he can items being sourced from local Massachusetts farms". Cool! Sign me up!

I was pleased to see on the menu that they have two of my three litmus tests for are-you-a-good-chef: Burgers, and Roast Chicken. (Missing: Fried egg.) If a chef can take something so mind-numbingly basic as a hamburger or roasted whole chicken or a fried egg, and can nail the preparation so spot-on that the simple becomes sublime -- well, then that there is a good chef.

If it's on the menu then I add a fourth challenge: The Reuben. The reuben is a sandwich that's so taken for granted it's almost impossible to find a good one. I think people have forgotten why a reuben exists. It's a house of cards ready to fall apart but it doesn't. It's about precarious balance. It's about taking a lean meat -- corned beef -- and adding more fat -- dressing, cheese -- then cutting through the fat with a tangy bite -- sauerkraut, rye. The textures should be a meld of crunchy-chewy-creamy. The sandwich should not ever under any circumstances leave you anything less than full-up to the brim. It's a hefty meal.

I was excited to see a reuben on the American Craft menu. But wait... huh? They spelled it "Rueben". That can't be right... (googled it)... nope, it's not right. Reuben. R-E-U-B-E-N. Reuben! Unfortunately this starts me off on the wrong foot. It shouldn't matter -- and I'm not quite sure why it matters SO much to me -- but it does. If you're going to call your take on it "Classic", well gosh darn it the least you can do is to spell it right!

Enough already, let's eat. So I get to American Craft on opening night. Tonight. I like the space. It's laid out well, the chi flows. Two bars. I plopped myself down at the one with the long line of taps & the beer menu chalkboard rising high above. Yes, please! I knew I was going to try the reuben so I ordered a beer I thought would complement the meal. Pretty Things! A local brew I've followed on Twitter but I hadn't ever tried yet. Let's have a pint of the St. Botolph's Town rustic brown ale. I really don't know the style but I'm taking an educated guess that it'll cut through the richest parts of the reuben to bring out more of the tang. I think I was right b/c the St. Botolph's has this interesting hop bitter that's... mellow? Like something that you think will be sharp then it rounds out smoothly at the end.

I'll never know if St. Botolph's pairs well with a reuben because the American Craft "Rueben" ain't no reuben. It's a good sandwich, sure. And hefty, absolutely! Basically it's a mound of corned beef on rye with some melted swiss. The Russian dressing & sauerkraut are nearly imperceptible. The bread is a light rye, not the signature pumpernickel, and it begs to be grilled rather than toasted. All the components are there but the whole is less than the sum of its parts.

For the record, the fries are awesome. French fries need to get on my litmus test list because it's hard to find awesome fries. They nailed these spot-on. Crisp on the out, tender on the in, flavorful all around with a just-right sprinkle of salt. I would have loved a side of mayo for dipping (that's just me) but the ketchup was really good. I don't know if it's house-made. Typically I find that mass-market ketchup is much too salty, house-made is too tomato-y, so I never bother. This one was just right and I plowed through it.

Back to the reuben.

Let's take some contrasting cases-in-point from a couple of my favorite Toronto restaurants.

Beer Bistro: Duck Confit Reuben. That's right, you heard me. Duck Confit Reuben. This is from the folks who bring us the fabulous this-shouldn't-work-but-it-does Duck Confit Corn Dogs. That's another story. In spite of the everything-wrong-about-it sound of it, I would absolutely call this a reuben. The duck confit acts as cured meat and rich dressing all rolled into one. Brilliant! Unfortunately the whole was also less than the sum of the parts -- literally. The presentation was utterly confusing and I had NO IDEA how to eat it. The duck confit and cheese were sandwiched together by thin pumpernickel toasts nested on top of braised tart red cabbage. Do I pick it up? If so, where does the cabbage go, and HOW? Nope that doesn't work. Do I eat it with fork and knife? The bread is too crisp and collapses in a crumbled mess. Nope! That doesn't work, either. I'm telling you, it was maddening. The flavors and textures were all PERFECT and I couldn't get it all in one bite. The composition was (for me) a failure.

Hoof Cafe: Schnitzel. This is something that's not billed as a reuben but I'd absolutely call it a reuben. The components are all there and meld together perfectly. The fried tongue acts both as cured meat and a substitute for the crunch of toasted bread. It's dressed with a whole-mustard creme fraiche that acts as cheese, dressing and sauerkraut all rolled into one. The only questionable aspect here is the bread which is a complete fail as a sandwich bread and a total win in the flavor/texture department. It's a house-made no-knead bread that disintegrates two bites in but remains an integral component with its chewy texture and slightly sour-yeasty taste. OK, I'm biased toward the Hoof Cafe. Trust me on this, though, the schnitzel is really a reuben.

But really. What's the best truly classic reuben? Let me start hitting up the many Jewish delis here in the Boston area and I'll find out. Or maybe I'll go to NYC on this quest. Stay tuned.

Back to American Craft.

I suspect that American Craft is one of those that's a great brew pub with good (not great) food. I'll give it another shot and take my son there for a dueling-burgers night. If they do a good burger I'll call it a righteous eatery. Jury's still out on that. It's definitely a fabulous bar and I hope it lives long and prospers.

Post script: Pretty Things beer! Omigosh! SO GOOD! In addition to the St. Botolph's, I had the Baby Tree (belgian quad -- no idea what this is) which was like a sour-cherry cordial with a bit of fizz and I know this sounds awful but it's GOOD! Very unique. I feel like it would go awesome with food but I couldn't quite figure out what would be best. Maybe a piquant aged sheeps-milk cheese? Try some and let me know.