Remember how it felt, when you were a kid, to step into an ice cream parlor or soda fountain? (Are you old enough to remember such a thing?) Crossing the threshold meant entering a palace of wonder and joy, a world of infinite and delightful possibility (even if you were in an ordinary drugstore): hot fudge sundaes topped with squiggly whorls of whipped cream, chocolate malts in tall glasses with red-and-white-striped paper straws, elaborate banana splits, frothy ice cream sodas. How on earth to decide?
Maybe it's thanks to the soaring ceilings that have a way of making a person feel marvelously small, but much the same sensation washed over me as I stepped inside Remedy, a gleaming spot that opened in early January on Greenville Avenue. With glammy chandeliers, mirrored pillars and a captivating bar, the Jones Baker-designed space manages to capture that sense of joyous wonder,but blown up into adult scale. It's accomplished skillfully and tastefully: slate-gray tufted banquettes, creamy white walls and stamped-tin ceiling, dark wood wainscoting and tables, white marble bar top.
By day, it's bright and airy, filled with families and old friends out, say, for Saturday lunch. By night it's a scene, populated by a young and stylish crowd: This is definitely the neighborhood's most glamorous spot.
The waitstaff charmingly encourages mildly naughty behavior - giving grown-ups permission ("It's just like a mimosa!") to start lunch with a jazzy highball, maybe the Better Lemon, a deceptively sophisticated tall rocks sipper concocted of gin, Suze and Meyer lemon syrup and a spritz of sparkling wine. Or a tangy, boozy lime rickey, perfect with its paper straw. Beverage director Máté Hartai has created some of the most thoughtful quaffs in town.
In fact, I think Remedy is most enjoyable by day, as the lunchy things are the strength of Danyele McPherson's menu. The young chef, last seen running the kitchen at the Grape, turns out a beautiful salad of arugula, pink grapefruit supremes, beet and ripe avocado chunks, carefully dressed in an orange-tarragon vinaigrette and crowned with dill.
Deviled green eggs and ham score with fluffy yolks enhanced with lots of herbs and a jaunty garnish of chervil and crispy ham; hot jalapeño-chive hushpuppies crisply fried golden-brown are tender and nicely spiced, served with soft butter flavored gently with North Carolina hot sauce.
A couple of the sandwiches are standouts, beginning with an old-school cheeseburger on a soft and glistening challah bun slathered with creamy mustard sauce. Perfectly proportioned and dressed with shredded lettuce, a slice of ripe tomato and American cheese melted over the flavorful, well-seasoned Wagyu patty, it's terrific. Servers query whether you want it "pink" or "not pink," but I later learned you can ask for more specific doneness. We asked for pink, and ours arrived not-so-pink.
I'm not usually a fan of American cheese, but without its unctuous meltiness, McPherson's fried house-made bologna sandwich, on buttery griddled challah with shaved sweet onion tucked inside, couldn't be so uncannily fabulous.
At dinnertime, her salad of frilly young red mustard greens tossed with shaved pickled apple, smoked carrots and crunchy-tender baby turnips gets delicious dollops of cashew ricotta and fat cubes, crisp on the outside, of luscious pork belly.
Many of Remedy's dishes are well-prepared and likable, though not memorable: shaved ham with flaky biscuits and pickled collard greens; soothing cream of tomato soup; shrimp and superrich, bacon-flavored grits. Very good fried chicken, fashionably labeled "confit" and served with chive mashed potatoes, a few buttered green beans and pepper gravy, didn't transcend regular very good fried chicken. I wish McPherson had the kind of visual fun with some of these dishes that Hartai has with the drinks; those chicken pieces and their uninspired garnishes sat forlornly on an earthenware plate that seemed all wrong with the soda fountain aesthetic.
Chili-cornbread pie, a vegetarian dish that's new on the menu, was delicious, but the cornbread on top (garnished with a dollop of sour cream, grated cheddar, sliced scallions and jalapeños) was so thick in relation to the snappily spiced three-bean chili underneath that the chili got lost. A bit of tweaking could make this a great dish.
Others were less successful: a banal Cobb salad at lunchtime; a BLT that was harmed rather than helped by the addition of a lot of sweet chow-chow and cream cheese; a slightly overcooked dry-aged Duroc pork chop with oily roast Brussels sprouts and ancho-pumpkin spoon bread (such a wintry dish to still be on the menu into spring).
Desserts and the fountain drink situation were somewhat disappointing as well, oddly enough. A chocolate-vanilla egg cream tasted like cocoa powder and lacked fizzy froth, house-made ice creams were fine but uninspired and the promised shakes and malts still haven't made it to the menu nearly three months in. I love the idea of specialty sundaes, like one called the Tim Byres (named for the chef of Smoke). The concoction of vanilla and cornbread ice creams, vanilla- poached dried apricots, smoked almonds and oodles of whipped cream packed the visual punch that many of the main courses lacked, but with too few apricots and really not much going on besides the ice cream, it quickly became monotonous.
There's also a fun list of pies, with check marks next to those available that day.
A salted Texas honey and cornmeal custard pie topped with bits of candied hickory-smoked bacon was much more enticing on paper than in reality; coconut cream crowned with poufs of toasted meringue was much better. One called "lemon lemon lemon" was my favorite: a good flaky crust filled with a stiff and superlemony lemon curd and edged with a lemon-white chocolate whipped cream decorated with lots of candied lemon peel.
When a restaurant with a tight menu focuses on such basic American classics, it would be nice if the kitchen hit them out of the park more often. Still, there's something so lovable about Remedy, with its fanciful spirit, exuberant sense of fun and irresistible cocktails. It's definitely a keeper.
Remedy (2 stars)
Price: $$$ (breakfast dishes $11 to $14; lunch appetizers and soups $4 to $12, salads and sandwiches $10 to $15; dinner appetizers, soups and salads $4 to $12, sandwiches $11 to $15, main courses $15 to $26; desserts $3 to $10)
Service: Professional, attentive and knowledgeable about the food and cocktails
Ambience: An old-fashioned soda fountain, glammed-up for grown-ups
Noise level: Can be inordinately noisy, especially on a busy evening (and all the evenings there seem to be busy)
Location: 2010 Greenville Ave., Dallas; 469-294-4012; remedydallas.com. Parking can be difficult; a valet is available Thursday-Saturday evenings. Customers may park in the lot behind the restaurant, or at three others: 5711 Prospect (behind Company Cafe); 5628 Sears St. (beside the Truck Yard); 5602 Sears St. (across from Contemporary Theatre of Dallas).
Hours: Sunday-Thursday 11 a.m. to 10 p.m.; Friday-Saturday 11 a.m. to midnight, though kitchen closes at 11 p.m.
Reservations: Accepted
Credit cards: AE, MC, V
Wheelchair accessible: Yes
Alcohol: Full bar, with specialty cocktails, a cursory (not particularly well-chosen) wine list and nine or 10 craft beers
Ratings Legend
5 stars: Extraordinary
4 stars: Excellent
3 stars: Very good
2 stars: Good
1 star: Fair
No stars: Poor
