When two linguistic groups come together, communication between them often results in a pidgin, a simplified language allowing them to interact. As a pidgin develops and matures, as children grow up native speakers of it, it becomes a creole—a fully developed language, with syntax and grammar.

At Grann, the Tacoma restaurant that calls itself Southern BBQ, Creole, and Indian fusion (Creole with a big C here, meaning the New Orleans culture), the best dishes feel like a creole (little c, a language)—drawing on multiple sources for inspiration as it evolves into something totally new, delicately woven from its origins.

Chief among these hits, the first dish I try: puri pimento bites. The deep-fried, golf-ball-size shells come to the table crunchy, the hollow center filled with cool, creamy pimento cheese, its sharpness rounded off by sweet onion jam. The way the cheese imitates the spice and general texture of the traditional chickpea filling, with the jam echoing the raw onions, shows a fluency in multiple cuisines, and in the new combined version, that little c creole. After this single dish, I was ready to declare Grann having lived up to my every expectation, worth the drive to Tacoma—even at rush hour.

Showing off the commitment to spices shared by Indian cuisine and soul food, the dish gave Southern richness a backdrop of Indian textures. It brought together the cuisine co-owner and co-chef Reginald Jacob Howell learned from his grandmother in Tacoma, the one he picked up cooking with his wife in her homeland of India, and the skills honed during his time in the kitchens of Tacoma’s En Rama and Kirkland’s Arleana’s—sibling of Columbia City’s Island Soul. Pitmaster Denzel Johnson joins Howell in the kitchen and ownership, another South Sounder who learned cooking from family—the restaurant’s name derives from Gran, as in Grandmother. Johnson previously poured Texas and Tennessee heritage into his catering business, Oopsies Fusion Grill. Even the space came with pedigree: It previously belonged to the Table, which earned Derek Bray Tacoma’s first-ever semifinalist nod for Best Chef Northwest and Pacific from the James Beard Awards.

Grann’s beautiful room simultaneously telegraphs depth and richness, with dramatic green walls, patterned green and orange panels overhead, and a striking photo of a tiger that matches the color scheme. The arching ceiling through the center of the room frames the open kitchen, making the neon lighting behind it feel even more jarring and out of place. It’s a dichotomy that shows up throughout the restaurant. Each innovative combination of foods teeters on a precipice between “Why has nobody ever done this before?” and “That’s why nobody has done this before.”

It took well into my second meal before I found another dish to match the sky-high standards set by the puri: the BBQ fish. An enormous snapper fillet swims in a chili mustard oil and “Holy Trinity” sauce—the Louisiana Creole mirepoix of onions, peppers, and celery. A thinly sliced tangle of fennel salad on top brings a refreshing, bright crunch. Familiar, exciting, comforting, novel, it hits all the notes Grann ambitiously sets out to play.

The “side hustles” section of the menu shows less creativity. The dishes taste good but lean on the tired fusion technique of sprinkling a few spices from one cuisine onto a staple of the other: masala mac and cheese, coconut masala greens, and vindaloo baked beans.

But the most serious issues on my visits all came from errors in execution, rather than concept. The flavors of butter chicken agnolotti might have worked were the creamy sauce not coating thick, gummy dumplings and overcooked meat. The tandoori ribs demonstrated Johnson’s serious skill as pitmaster, thankfully flavorful enough to overcome the cloyingly sweet masala mop sauce, and filling enough to ignore the accompanying potato salad that rang with the tinniness of sitting uncovered in a fridge. A grilled naan came out flat as an envelope, the taste of raw flour overpowering whatever work the coconut collard butter was supposed to be doing.

Despite the missteps, I left each meal hopeful. The highs were so high they instilled me with the strength to drive back down I-5. Each visit brought a smoothing of the edges and fewer stumbles, perhaps a luxury of opening in Tacoma, rather than Seattle, where the food scene is more forgiving, offering more space for innovation.

“There’s kind of just the whole gritty vibe,” says The Tacoma News Tribune food and dining reporter Kristine Sherred. “What Tacoma does have is intrigue… It’s very grassroots built.” Coming from Chicago, she saw (and felt) an exhaustion with formulaic openings pouring big money into projects with high-profile chefs and designers, a problem likely familiar to Seattleites. In Tacoma, she found the opposite, which came with a lack of polish. “So much of what is great in Tacoma is very personal,” she says. “It’s people who have a ton of experience in the industry, people who do know what they’re doing, but they are largely doing it themselves.”

Having interviewed Howell over the years before Grann opened, Sherred stands by her initial impression: “He definitely was one of those people who, immediately, you know, was going to have the ambition to really do something. And had a vision.” She paused. “I don’t know that he had totally fleshed out this vision.” But for each time the shredded barbecued beef gets lost amid the biryani, or the kale curry Caesar desperately needs a new masseuse, there is the Beyhive cocktail. The smooth, powerful drink lives up to its namesake’s originality and adaptability, sweetened with both honey and a toasted curry syrup. Sherred describes the food at Grann, optimistically, as “This could be perfect, if…and that kind of keeps it exciting.”

The term “fusion” spent years building itself a bad reputation, connoting two separate cuisines manipulated together by outside forces, like a mediocre welding job or shoddy wiring. Grann refutes that notion with excitement and creativity, making the drive south worth Seattleites’ time. No, Grann hasn’t perfected its technique yet. It still trips over its words as it tries to establish the structure and grammar of the new language, but it shows flashes of greatness in its fluency and illuminates the powerful potential in its future.