Review: “Salt” of the Earth

Two 20-year-olds walk into a bar. When asked for ID, they become indignant, throw up their hands and declare they’ll go somewhere else. As they get up, their swivel chairs rotate inward, sending the two young men smack into one another before they sheepishly exit the establishment. This is my father’s Tom’s Tavern anecdote, circa 1973.

Anyone who lived in Boulder between 1959 and 2007 likely has their own Tom’s Tavern story. Prior to closing its doors nearly two years ago after the passing of proprietor Tom Eldridge, the burger joint was for many people as much a Boulder icon as Ralphie the buffalo. Quite warranted, then, was the anticipation of what would take its place at 1047 Pearl St.

Three weeks ago, the doors swung open as a new dining establishment, Salt. The restaurant is the innovation of Bradford Heap, celebrated chef at Colterra Food and Wine in Niwot. The theme? Fresh food produced locally, management said.

“We really believe that the best food travels the shortest distance from the farm to the table,” said Carol Vilate, co-owner of Salt. “About 90 percent of our ingredients are from local sources.”

At first glance, Salt appears to be yet another of Boulder’s painfully trendy, overpriced restaurants blindly catering to the organic craze. And as successor to the down-home, no-frills atmosphere of Tom’s, skepticism may come easily. Yet one need only pay a visit to realize they’ve nearly nailed today’s business of serving food.

The owners say they’re finding their own way.

“It was never our intention to erase Tom’s and start a new place,” Vilate said. “We’re trying to honor what Tom’s used to be, rather than trying to be some place that’s hip and cool.”

Whether they like it or not, Salt is pretty cool, in part because of their genuine devotion to what the building used to be. Pearl Street ramblers will notice that the infamous Tom’s Tavern sign painted on the brick wall remains.

“So many people come from out of town and take pictures of the Tom’s sign,” Vilate said. “It was so much more than a place to get a hamburger.”

To tamper with such an icon is to tread on tender ground. Vilate, who designed the new building, put her heart and soul into preserving as many memories as possible.

“Our floor joints, for example, came from the old floor in the [Tom’s Tavern] kitchen,” she said. “The floor was sagging badly so it had to be replaced, but we didn’t throw out that wood, we used it to restore the building.”

Likewise the pressed tin ceiling remains from beneath the old Tom’s ceiling, and the sweeping windows in front are originals.

“People say how great it is that we’re using things from the old building,” Vilate said. “We’re trying to be sensitive, because I know how it is when you’re invested in a place.”

Being that I am a relatively new Boulder citizen, I ate only once at Tom’s, but I still felt defensive at the sight of a new restaurant in its place. The pretentious name didn’t do much for winning me over either, though apparently the motive behind calling it “Salt” was to emphasize the down-to-earth element for which they strive.

“Salt is a necessity for life, it’s something basic,” Vilate said. “People used to say that Tom was the ‘salt of the earth.’ It just seemed to fit.” Pretentious or not, it does add intrigue to an enticing restaurant experience.

I left my evening there feeling as though I’d experienced the roller-coaster dynamics of dining. More than dinner or lunch, Salt is an adventure.

After having to wait an hour for a table, my friend Austen and I were led through the clanking, bustling restaurant; we moved past stainless-steel accented brick walls, dark wood furnishings and fiery orange lamps hanging above the bar, until our hostess descended down a flight of stairs. The basement was steeped in the aroma of cedar wood – a rustic touch. I couldn’t decide whether to feel banished or treasured sitting in the bowels of the restaurant, where three tables lay in a rough semicircle around the restaurant’s underground bar. Regardless, the location didn’t affect our experience.

Our server showed up with menus and a smile, appearing out of breath from the madness that is a busy restaurant. A mark of good service is that despite the waiter’s significant production of sweat beads over his temples, he remains calm and composed.

The menu at Salt is one that goes beyond “burger with fries” and tells you at which farm each dish was born, allowing you to pause and conjure idyllic images of neat rows of cabbage and tractors tilling the land at sunrise – yet another way in which Salt manages to stimulate the senses.

Our taste buds danced with the delicious pow-wow of flavors atop the Colorado Peach Flatbread ($10): gorgonzola cheese, thinly sliced peaches, and prosciutto di Parma. The bread, which was essentially a fluffy pizza crust, was too much; I found myself discarding the crusts, which took up nearly half of each slice.

As an appetizer, the Rotisserie Leg of Colorado Lamb ($13) was ambitious. Yes, the plate was small, as in the “small plates” menu section, but to face several slabs of meat before you even get to the entrée is overwhelming. Nonetheless, the ratatouille served alongside was a proud potpourri of local vegetables that held hands nicely with the lamb. The meat should have been cooked slower as it verged on tough.

Between courses, a trip to the upstairs bathroom provided another sensory voyage. One’s eyes become wide at the sight of the kitchen, prominently exposed in its sizzling glory and leaving nothing to the imagination.

Back at the table, stimulation continues. Austen sampled a peach cocktail – smooth and delicate – while I sipped on a glass of pleasantly spicy merlot, recommended by our server to pair with my entrée.

The pairing was just short of perfection, given the puzzling medley of the Wood-Grilled Beef Shoulder Filet ($21). A potato gratin on one side of the plate, a salsa verde on the other, separated by a cascade of Meyer Ranch beef seemed an overambitious combination. My mind became a battleground. Between salsa verde and tomato-laced potato gratin, just what cuisine was this dish attempting to adopt? Needless to say, any wine faces a challenge in pairing with this dish. Leftovers the following day sent me into a further state of bewilderment, though I was reminded of the unmatched flavor of the wood-grilled beef. Fortunately, the second entrée we ordered involved the same method.

The Wood-Grilled Pork Chop ($23) likewise carried the cowboy-reminiscent flavor of smokiness and had been expertly cooked. No surprise were the peaches and green beans helping it along – anyone who’s been to the farmers market recently has seen their fair share of these two – and wavy polenta rounded out the dish.

Don’t expect to find these meals at Salt in the future, though. According to Vilate, the menu will change once a week.

“A big change happens at the first freeze,” she added. “Right now peaches are just ending and we’re starting to do something else. Corn will start coming in, and other things.”

Heap’s culinary background spurred his fascination with such a strict farm-to-table scheme. According to Vilate, he trained in Europe where daily shopping at farmers markets is the norm.

“[Bradford] was one of the first people in Boulder to use local products because that’s how he was trained in France and Italy,” she said. His devotion to local foods is omnipresent.

“Using local is our preference to even using organic,” Vilate said, a refreshing statement in a community where organics have become exhaustingly epitomized. It’s one way Salt aims to be less pretentious and more of, as Vilate puts it, “a community bistro.”

“We want people to feel relaxed and comfortable,” she said. “Sometimes at fancy restaurants you don’t feel relaxed, or you feel like you can’t bring your 5-year-old twins in to eat.”

She emphasized her and Heap’s goal of fine-dining service and food in a non-stuffy atmosphere. Vilate also suggested the friendliness of their pricing, but I wasn’t so sure.

Our meal for two, which admittedly involved a high volume of food and drink, ended up to be $113, not including gratuity. The bill contradicted Vilate’s statement that their pricing “wouldn’t exclude anybody from the experience.” I was left pondering my socioeconomic position in this town, since meals like this are certainly not within my student budget.

While Salt isn’t a place I’d frequent with each weekly change of its menu, it’s a place to keep in mind for special occasions. Customers receive a sensory adventure through sights, sounds and flavors, with doting service to help the experience along. But most importantly, with the exception of a few kinks expected of a baby restaurant, Heap produces satisfying food. I suspect Tom Eldridge would be proud of his successor.

“If people say, ‘I’m going to Tom’s Tavern,’ I don’t mind,” Vilate said. “It’s a compliment. People can say that a year from now and we won’t care. We’re just proud to be in this space.”

Contact CU Independent Staff Writer Lauren Duncan at Lauren.Duncan@colorado.edu.