Supper Club at Brasserie Brixton
A Review
Once a month, I get together with a few girls from my soccer team. Our group chat is called "Supper Club," and our ritual is very precious to us. We wine, we dine, we catch up on life, we indulge in gossip, and at some point during the meal, before leaving the table, we pull out our phones and check calendars to put the next one on the books.
We rarely select the restaurant until the week of, and usually, the duty falls to me as the resident foodie (re: has the strongest opinions about food). But this month, Annie made a request to dine at Brasserie Brixton. It's her go-to special occasion spot, and what's more special than the last Supper Club of the year?
Annie and her partner are two on a not-so-long list of people I trust with food recommendations because they, like me, love fancy shit. So, I had no doubts that the food would be good, and I didn't bother looking at the menu. I just looked up the restaurant on Google Maps to see how early I would need to leave and how much pain my bank account would be in after the fact.
I saw: French Restaurant, 10-minute drive, $50-100. And I made the reservation. It's worth noting that I could get a reservation for 4 two days out. That is not so for many of Denver's best restaurants, especially the ones with Michelin nods.
I got to the restaurant a little early. I have a bad habit of that, always being early and then being forced to sit in my car until it's socially appropriate to walk to the front door. I was taken to our table, and it was just me and the menu for about 10 minutes while I waited for my friends to arrive. I saw things I expected, like pâté and French onion soup, but then I saw the word "wonton" staring back at me. My first thought was, "Oh no, it's a fusion restaurant."
And look, there is nothing wrong with fusion food at all. Food, better than anything else, breaks down borders. I fully support a chef's right to translate their lived experiences onto the plate. It just wasn't what I expected. I read "French restaurant" on Google Maps. Two days ago, when I followed the restaurant on Instagram, I saw "fancy-ish, French-ish." Not "french-ish, fusion-ish."
I could have looked at the menu at any point between booking and walking to the front door and adjusted my expectations. But I didn't, and I am certain that that decision colored my perception of the food in some way. So, as with all restaurant reviews, recaps, and criticisms, take mine with a grain of salt.
The Space
The space is cozy. Brick walls, warm-toned wood tables and chairs, an open kitchen, navy blue under the bar, and on the napkins to tie the space together. Through the center of the room is one long table, offering a chance for a larger party in the small space or a bit of a community table feel.
The Service
The service was some of the best I have experienced in Denver, especially at that mid-range price point. Our server was always available to us without ever bothering us. She took her cues from the table, never interrupting the flow of our conversation except to drop food or wipe away crumbs. When we ordered a dish typically served with three pieces, she warned us and offered the option to add a fourth. A true professional.
The Booze
Their selection of wine by the glass is rather limited, but they denote those available with a little star in front of the name. A touch that goes unnoticed until you trace your finger across the page to figure out which line that lonely glass price was on. I would argue that they serve their red wine in the wrong glass, but it's a healthy pour, so who really cares? They also have reasonably priced house glasses available, $10. The cocktail we tried, Orchard Noir, was appley and boozy and tasted of fall and dark liquor.
The Food
Blood Sausage Wonton
I was genuinely so excited to see blood sausage on this menu. I love a chef who isn't afraid to offer something disgusting to their customers. Now, I love blood sausage, but many people - including Annie - hear the words "blood" and "sausage" used in conjunction and are immediately repulsed. So, we did a little negotiating to get it on the table.
I liked this dish for the most part. Inside a crispy fried wonton shaped like a tortellini was a silky smooth blood sausage mousse. It probably wasn't intended to be mousse, but that's what it reminded me of. It was light and incredibly creamy for a sausage. It's a tasty bite worth trying, absolutely. Especially if you have never tried blood sausage before, I find this to be a relatively approachable introduction.
If I had to complain about anything, and I do, it's just that I don't get why it was served in a wonton with soy and chili. I mean, I guess the wonton gives you some textural contrast, and, like, obviously, they are doing the Asian-inspired ingredients thing. But I almost wish they had offered this up as an alternative to the pate or, hear me out, alongside the pate as a freaky little innards tasting. I would've ordered that in a heartbeat.
Annie took one bite and couldn't get past the idea of blood, which is, honestly, valid. I ate the rest of hers.
Pâté
Another dish half the world would turn their nose up at, whipped liver. And another round of negotiating with my friends commenced. This time, Annie was on my side; she loves the pâté.
It was the soft kind of pate, served in a perfect quenelle and sprinkled with pickled mustard seeds. It was silky smooth and unexpectedly sweet. I am no pâté expert, but I have probably eaten a couple of gooses worth (in this case, it was chicken) in my lifetime, and I don't recall using sweet to describe any other pâtés I have tried. Had we not also ordered a baguette, we surely would've needed more bread. The plate was scraped clean.
Baguette and Butter
Served traditionally, no bread knife in sight. This baguette gave me the opportunity to embody my true self, a Francophile asshole, and teach my friends how the French break bread.
One hand wide, squeeze, tear. Bread lives on the table, not on your plate. We all still put our bread on plates.
The house-made demi-baguette scratched the itch. I am always impressed when chefs attempt baguettes in-house. Bread is hard, especially in a kitchen not specifically set up for it. The butter was served at just the right temperature for spreading without falling out of its little quenelle shape. It was nice and salty.
Duck
The duck is Annie's favorite dish.
It was fall-off-the-bone tender. It was confited, so temperature was not a factor. There was no fatty, flabby skin to be found. It was served alongside a radish cake topped with duck egg. The radish cake had a pleasant texture, though I didn't find a distinct radish flavor against the rest of the dish. The duck egg was cooked sunny side up with a perfectly jammy yellow. Everything was served over a sweet soy sauce and chili crisp.
Technically, there is nothing wrong with this dish. Each part was well executed and well seasoned; the flavors complimented each other. I just kept hoping for something to surprise me or stand out on this one, and that moment never came. It wasn't for me.
Steak Frites
It's steak frites, so there really isn't much to say. Well seasoned, cooked to the correct temperature, nice sauce, a bit boring. Just one question from me: Who the fuck serves steak frites with ketchup?
Crème Brûlée
If you're going to bill yourself as a fine-ish French-ish dining experience, you kind of have to put crème brûlée on the menu. And if you're going to put crème brûlée on the menu, you better do it well. They did. It was a good crème brûlée. Not overcooked, just set, crunchy brûlée sugar crust. Exactly as expected.
Pot de Creme
I am not usually one to reach for a rich dessert. I prefer my desserts to be fruit-based 90% of the time, but I enjoyed this one. Labeled on the menu as espresso, I didn't think to determine if that was actually an espresso pot de creme or just chocolate enhanced. I don't recall an overwhelming coffee flavor, so I am likely to assume the latter, but I have been wrong before. Thick custard, layered with a caramel somewhere between chewy and saucy, and a light chantilly - that's French for whipped cream. The container is so small because a couple of bites are all you need.
Lola couldn't do more than a spoonful of this; too rich for her. Annie and I were happy not to share.
Final thoughts
The price point felt appropriate. Three appetizers, two main dishes, two desserts, a glass of wine, and two cocktails ended up just north of $200. We all left the restaurant with full bellies. After tax and tip, we each paid about $65-70. I have certainly spent more on less in Denver.
I would go back if someone else suggested it. I would make some different decisions in ordering for sure, but I would go back. It's evident to me that they know how to cook at Brasserie Brixton. The thing I am having a harder time discerning is if they are really passionate about this particular menu. And full transparency on my clouded judgment, I am not sure if that's because I wasn't personally super into the fusion aspect or because the dishes they left "traditional" felt a bit boring. Maybe I just didn’t get it.