Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
We are distracted. In front of us sits a heaped platter of onion rings and crunchy house-fried potato chips, served with a tangy housemade ketchup dip. Nearby sits a guest who looks remarkably like comedian Jim Gaffigan, nibbling on a slice of pizza.
So when our chicken marsala arrives, it takes a second to refocus. We lift the fork—and stop to appreciate it. This is a beautiful presentation. A pair of pan-roasted chicken breasts comes with portobello chunks, chopped tomatoes, and spinach gnocchi, glazed with silky cooking juices and a skin of melted fontina. Neither ingredients nor construction is extravagant. It’s elegant and delicious.
Dinner at BC’s Kitchen has always been wonderful, upscale without pretension. The most significant problem: choosing a dish. At least two are local favorites. The Meister Burger—topped with blue cheese, cheddar, and apple wood–smoked bacon—is utterly satisfying. The same bacon and blue cheese find their way onto a hefty iceberg lettuce wedge in the salad that’s inspired diners to reconsider the oft-disdained iceberg.
Chef Bill Cardwell has assembled a formidable kitchen. Many of the seats afford a view of it. Watch. Note the relaxed, yet efficient skill with which plates are assembled and delivered. We see a flatiron steak come sizzling off the grill, slashed to expose the pink interior, then arranged with the pieces overlapping to show off the cut. A haystack of puréed root vegetables and a tumble of fries are situated so the plate is balanced and attractive. It is a minor work of art, one repeated hundreds of times every evening.
Beef ribs get the respect they deserve here. They’re braised in a Dutch oven with a bourbon-splashed barbecue sauce, then dressed with a heap of fried onions. Barbecue fans will find happiness with a slab of baby backs. To some carnivores, vegetable pasta might seem as exciting as a supermarket line. But here, there’s attention to every ingredient, which is roasted, marinated, or cooked exactly so and served in a mélange of garlic and olive oil that makes for a splendid meal. Pizzas emerge crust-charred from a flaming oven. And weekly features such as Sunday’s fried chicken draw regulars.
The cocktail selection is short of amazing (but not by much). Service is polished and accommodating—except for our server, who refused our request to ask Gaffigan for an autograph.
The Bottom Line BC’s Kitchen has become a local dining institution. Every meal here is a reminder of why.
