New Chef Creates Striking Menu : Grant Grill Is Restored to Former Glory

A few months ago, the U.S. Grant Hotel slipped Bernard Guillas into the Grant Grill kitchen, and the 26-year-old Frenchman quietly set about reforming it into the first-rate establishment it always should have been.

The Grill, long the place to dine in downtown San Diego, reopened at the end of 1985 after the hotel underwent a remarkably extravagant rehabilitation. The room was as clubby as before, if somewhat more gorgeous--the booths seemed deeper and plusher, the rich wood paneling even more luxurious, the oil paintings of English hunt scenes even more evocative of a privileged way of life--but the cooking, simply put, was the pits.

Under Guillas, the menu has become as striking as the room. He has some experience with the peculiar requirements of hotel dining rooms, having worked most recently as chef at the main dining room in the grand old Mayflower in Washington. But, judging by the Grant Grill bill of fare, he has approached the place as if it were a free-standing restaurant.

No Onion Soup

Guillas has banished or rejuvenated the usual cliches that can make hotel menus so tedious. There is no onion soup, for example, nor are there snails in garlic butter or the usual smoked salmon with capers and chopped onion. Snails sometimes appear as a special, however, as they did recently in a saute that included morel and chanterelle mushrooms and apricot brandy.

And the standing menu does offer a salmon appetizer, but with a twist. In addition to the usual smoked version, the plate includes fish cured pastrami-style and the dill-cured gravad lax of Scandinavian cooking.

If the standing menu is impressive, the specials seem even more imaginative. “This is exciting-sounding stuff,” purred one guest after listening to the waiter’s recitation of a list that included such entrees as swordfish and ahi in a fresh fig sauce, and squab and quail in a gingered blueberry sauce.

The Grill is luxurious--the bill, when it arrives, underscores this fact quite pointedly--and the restaurant offers its guests any number of pleasant little extras.

Meals traditionally open with an amuse gueule , a tiny appetizer meant as both a welcoming mouthful and an intimation of the kitchen’s overall cleverness. This recently consisted of an oyster wrapped in smoked salmon, garnished with red caviar, doused with beurre blanc and tucked back in its shell. Later, a small scoop of melon sorbet arrived just in advance of the entree and, because it was astringent rather than sweet, performed its role as palate cleanser satisfactorily.

This is one of those rare menus from which one probably could order anything and be pleased, but there are dishes that sparkle more brightly, especially among the appetizers. The fresh duck foie gras is one of these. The Grill offers this in the form of slices of the whole liver, rather than as a pate (the whole liver is more choice and is a more extravagant way of doing things), which are grilled gently and then paired with a caramelized pear. The liver is buttery and exquisite, the pear melting and sweet, and the two are brought together by a moistening of pear vinegar, butter and a touch of fine brown sauce.

Substantial and Delicious

The hot lobster and artichoke salad seems defined as a salad only by way of courtesy, because it consists primarily of fat chunks of lobster meat sauted with slender, savory slices of meaty artichoke heart and bits of truffle. Served in a cup of radicchio lettuce, it is substantial and delicious, the filling soaked with a delicious deglazing sauce made by washing the saute pan with vinegar, herbs and a touch of wine.

Among other starters are shrimp ravioli in an herbed cream sauce, an old-fashioned duck terrine, various soups (including the Grill’s famous mock turtle, which the kitchen again seems to be preparing correctly) and several salads. The “classic Grant Grill salad,” as it is billed, serves two, is prepared table-side and turns out to be a happy variation on the ubiquitous Caesar, with the difference that the dressing begins with anchovies mashed into a large spoonful of chopped garlic and an equally large spoonful of Dijon mustard.

The entree list leads off with the sole holdover from the pre-Guillas menu, a dish called lobster Valentine that is billed as “a romantic preparation of Maine lobster”; unless it has been changed, the dish is flavored with vanilla, which does not make it particularly romantic or, for that matter, particularly good.

But what follows can be exciting. There is grilled sea bass with a fennel compote; broiled free-range chicken stuffed with feta cheese; pan-roasted rack of lamb dressed with grain mustard and pistachios; roast duckling in a pineapple-cranberry sauce; spit-roasted veal and pheasant with foie gras .

Most seafood is mentioned as a daily special, and the line-caught wild trout from Wisconsin sounded too good to be missed. The kitchen did far more to it than would a Wisconsin fisherman, but with the happiest of results, beginning with the crust of oregano and poppy seeds that coated the exquisitely delicate flesh. Placed atop a bed of braised leeks, the trout was sauced, rather remarkably, with a blend of crushed pecans, chopped beets, amaretto, beurre blanc and cream. Such a mixture would be a mess if blended by the wrong hands, but the Grill did a superb job with it.

Slightly Gamy Taste

Beautifully roasted or grilled birds are a hallmark of French cooking, and the Grill’s pairing of quail and squab, also offered as a special, would be the dish of choice for anyone who likes fowl with a slightly gamy taste--which is the way the French prefer it. A nicely balanced blueberry sauce gave a certain richness to the dish.

All through the meal, trolleys laden with cheese and pastries roll by the table en route to other diners, and the sight encourages guests to save a little room for the grand finale. If for no other reason than that cheese is rarely available in restaurants, this trolley holds particular appeal. The cast includes such stars as pungent Stilton and bleu de Bresse, three kinds of chevre de Montrachet (goat cheeses--plain, crusted with crushed peppercorns and rolled in chopped dill), American Cheddar and Morbier. The captain will serve a taste of each, sprinkled with chopped walnuts and garnished with red and green grapes.

The dessert trolley is vastly improved from other days; all selections are made on the premises, and it includes such pleasantries as a sour cherry-chocolate cake with a layer of mousse, and a croquembuche of pastry-cream-filled puffs drizzled with an orange-flavored caramel.

This sort of menu demands an excellent wine list, and the Grant delivers with one of fine depth in terms of both California and French vintages. The list, like the restaurant, pays little heed to the budget-conscious, however, and bottles under $20 are exceedingly scarce.

THE GRANT GRILL

U.S. Grant Hotel, 326 Broadway

239-6806

Lunch and dinner served seven days.

Credit cards accepted.

Dinner for two, including a bottle of wine, tax and tip, $100 to $140.