Magnolia Tap & Kitchen
624 E St. (East Village)
619-255-0925
Prices: Salads and starters, $5 to $13; sandwiches and entrees, $11 to $24
Frank Sabatini Jr. | Restaurant Review
Several folks have asked if Magnolia Tap & Kitchen is related to the memorable soul food restaurant, Magnolias, which operated in Southeast San Diego before disappearing several years ago. It isn’t. And nor is the food a hardcore study in Creole cuisine.
Chef Michael Edwards instead presents a marvelous amalgamation of cooking styles culled from South Carolina, where his dad originated, along with contemporary techniques he adopted while working at restaurants in New York, Miami and the Virgin Islands. The result is a menu that pushes cornbread over the edge with habanero peppers and roasted peach butter while keeping the mustard base firmly in check for South Carolina-style barbecue sauce used on the ribs.
Magnolia Tap & Kitchen pays homage to The Magnolia Saloon that operated on this quiet East Village block in the late 1800s. It most recently housed Bare Back Grill, a New Zealand-inspired concept that didn’t fly so well here compared to its successful location in Pacific Beach.
Now, a large front bar and metal tree sculpture looks over a wood-floor dining room divided in its motif. Floor-to-ceiling brick walls on one side support the feel of an Industrial Revolution warehouse. The other half resembles an English lodge with wainscoting and hunter-green walls. But no matter where you sit, old hardcover books with yellowing pages are always in reach. They’re placed mostly on the tables and serve as fun distractions.
Depending on what night of the week you visit, several flat screens are either broadcasting sports games or playing old silent films. I love the idea of the latter, although we ended up with football instead of nostalgia.
Coming from Cucina Urbana in Bankers Hill is Aaron Cribbes, a mixologist who says he creates scratch cocktails based purely on smell.
“I’ve been mixing drinks since I was old enough to buy liquor,” he quipped while serving us his rendition of a Winchester, made normally with gin. Cribbes instead uses bourbon, mixing it with house-made cream soda and fresh lemon and lime juice. He crowns it with an old-fashion froth of egg whites. The outcome was fantastically refreshing, considering that I’m not fond of bourbon.
“He’s turned a lot of people into bourbon fans with that drink,” our waitress commented.
In addition to nearly 15 other tempting cocktails, the booze list spotlights a dozen craft beers on tap, many of them from local breweries, plus a succinct wine selection that makes every bottle available by the glass.
We encountered more bourbon in an appetizer of salmon rosettes served with deviled eggs and cucumber slaw. The chef uses the liquor along with ginger for curing the salmon, which tasted lush and original. Apple cider vinaigrette on top added further appeal, yet without stealing the oceanic flavor away from the fish.
The aforementioned habanero corn bread strikes an exact balance of sweet and savory flavors from the embedded bits of pepper and the smoky peach butter that we slathered over each piece. As for the beer-brined fries that my companion ordered, we detected a stronger brew essence in the house-made ketchup than we did in the spuds themselves. It was kind of surprising given that the chef soaks the thickly cut potatoes in Stone Smoked Porter for about 48 hours.
If tangy, succulent baby back ribs somehow escaped you this summer, then step right up for either a half rack dinner or the “buck a bone” special available from 3 to 7 p.m. during daily happy hour. Even without support of the accompanying barbecue sauce, they were magnificent on their own. The half rack comes with savory semi-firm beans that I’m guessing were baked Carolina-style in mustard, vinegar, brown sugar and a little pork fat.
My companion effused over his jerk chicken, which Edwards marinates for 48 hours in rum, molasses, habanero and plenty of other spices to give it depth of flavor. The entire airline cut, a breast with the drumette attached, was juicy to the bones. It’s served with Cajun-style dirty rice and wilted greens.
Magnolia’s menu is fairly short, which is fitting for a place that feels more like a bar that happens to have really good food. Other choices include pulled pork barbecue sandwiches, burgers, spinach-shrimp salad and pan-seared rib eye served with green bean succotash.
Our finale was pecan pie, but not the cloying kind typically found in Southern households. The drool factor was nonetheless extreme, as the reduction of sugar in the recipe brought the flavor of the pecans and buttery crust to the fore. And bourbon once again played a complimentary role, this time hiding in the whipped cream topping.
As they would say in the South, we were “happier than a dog with two tails” by the end of our visit.
Frank Sabatini Jr. is the author of Secret San Diego (ECW Press), and began writing about food two decades ago as a staffer for the former San Diego Tribune. He has since covered the culinary scene extensively for NBC; Pacific San Diego Magazine, San Diego Downtown News, San Diego Uptown News, Gay San Diego, and Living in Style Magazine. You can reach him at [email protected].
