Grill of My Dreams
John Howie stakes out a niche for the fourth steak house in Bellevue.
THE STRANGEST THING about the Bravern is not that the platinum-plated mall opened in the middle of a recession. It’s that this little bastion of Hermès and Louis Vuitton turns out to be the folksiest place in Bellevue.
As the elevator doors slid open from the underground parking garage, I found myself in a world that looked like Bellevue, but didn’t feel like it. Pedestrians roamed, sipping coffee and nibbling cupcakes. Pedestrians! Outside! I joined their stream, peeking into glammy Neiman Marcus windows and running into people I knew. It was a genuine urban experience.
The same epiphany struck as I trailed my glossy-haired host to a table at one of the new Bravern restaurants, John Howie Steak. Howie is the guy, once chef at Palisade, who went on to open a restaurant of his own—Bellevue’s fancy fish house, Seastar —and then two more: the Seattle Center sports bar Sport, then a downtown iteration of Seastar. The Seastars are creamy, high-end restaurants. And so is his steak house. All tans and neutrals, with heavy double doors and an elegant wall of braided pecan wood, the place wears an understated sophistication from the piano bar to the bright wall of windows overlooking I-405 and the Cascades. I walked past the booths and the sumptuous open rooms occupied by impressively dressed Bravernians, easy-listening Muzak lending generically jazzy notes to the whole sweep of cashmere-sweater refinement, when—whoa…what’s that smell?
From all sides streamed unmistakable whiffs of a mesquite grill, its bacony undertones in full swagger. Now, in a classy restaurant where dinner entrees round to $50, there may be nothing more unexpected than the smell of a delish backyard barbecue. Except for the taste of a delish backyard barbecue.
And that populist food dream, in the bet-a-million Bravern, is what John Howie delivers.
When he decided to open the fourth high-end steak house within eight square blocks, Howie knew he needed a niche. (It would have been the third, after local chain Daniel’s and national chain Ruth’s Chris, but El Gaucho swooped in around the corner after Howie had already signed his lease.) That niche, Howie concluded, would be chef-driven food. He grabbed Mark Hipkiss, a butcher’s son who headed up the kitchen at the Metropolitan Grill and nurtured ambitions beyond the turn and burn.
So the chefs put an amuse-bouche on the dinner menu. (On one visit: a lush bite of polenta in a boldly porky Bolognese.) They baked their own rolls and desserts; they hired mushroom foragers to bring in the wild fungi for the Dungeness crab leg–gnocchi appetizer. (Enough to overwhelm it, but more on that later.) The menu promotes branded delicacies like Kurobuta bacon and gentle, exquisite Spanish Valdeón blue cheese—the latter lending its cream to a beautifully proportioned romaine, hazelnut, shrimp, and pear salad. All meant to establish the joint’s bona fides as a Culinary Destination. Only the niche Howie actually fills is crowd-pleaser food for everyman. Less Auguste Escoffier; more Homer Simpson’s Big Night Out.
Published: December 2009
My boyfriend and I ate at John Howie Steak the second weekend the Bravern was open—what a disappointment. We were first escorted to a table right by the entrance, with the cold air from the front door blowing in on us plus the bar was right next to the table and was so loud we couldn’t hear each other talk. We requested another table and were then taken to a table right next to 8 drunk women on a night out. Not exactly romantic.
Our server managed to come over after we’d sat for about 15 minutes. She began to recite the spiel about the restaurant, etc., when she was distracted by a passing waiter, and she left the table mid-sentence without excusing herself. After a 10 minute conversation with the waiter, she came back and asked us where she was in the menu—without an apology.
The food was good, but the atmosphere was so loud, and the inside decor resembles nothing so much as an 1970’s Asian-inspired cafeteria. Another shock—the price of drinks. A bottle of Sonoma-Cutrer Russian River Chardonnay retails in QFC for around $24; here a GLASS was $22. The markup was beyond belief and the experience didn’t justify the price.
Net-net, I won’t go back. After sharing my experience with coworkers, one of them mentioned that her sister had had a similar experience, so I suspect my experience was not a lone instance and was rather SOP for this restaurant. Too bad, I really wanted to like it.
You are the second person who has given me the thumbs down on this place. I guess it is El Gaucho for me still.
Thanks for the confirming option to Tom’s.
I had the best steak filet ever in my long history of steak (too many to mention, but includes El Gaucho, Ruth Chris, Morton’s, Porterhouse, etc.) I like my steak well done, so most steak houses usually give me their worst cuts because they think I’m already ruining the steak by having it “over cooked.” My John Howie steak was well done, tasty, and so tender, I could cut it with a butter knife. The other two folks in our party said it was their best steak ever as well. I’ve also heard good reviews from the employees at Nieman’s that treat themselves to lunch at John Howie on payday.
Our family had such an enjoyable experience celebrating our daughter’s 40th birthday that our evening extended into three hours. The food was delicious and the staff did everything possible to make this one of the finest dining experiences that we’ve ever had in Bellevue.
Thank You,
The Peterson Family
Kelly M. I would suggest giving it another try. This is a fabulous restaurant. All restaurants go through growing pains the first month or two of operations. I can assure you that those pains have all taken a back seat to the ridiculously good food and wine and polished service. YUM!