Robin Garr's LOUISVILLE Restaurant Reviews

CLOSED. After unsuccessful efforts to sell it, Bim Deitrich closed Deitrich's doors at the end of May, 2003. It will be missed.

88	Brasserie Deitrich 2862 Frankfort Ave. (502) 897-6076

What's a brasserie? In the original French, it's the kind of eatery that Deitrich's demonstrably isn't: A casual bar that features beer by the glass, and maybe wine, along with basic pub grub.

But "Brasserie" evokes an image that's all French, and that's close enough to fit Deitrich's. With its Bar Meteor that spills onto Frankfort Avenue in the city's closest approximation of a Parisian sidewalk cafe, Deitrich's isn't so much a French restaurant as an eclectic Louisville restaurant with a distinct French twist.

Old-timers will remember that the sturdy old yellow-brick building that housed Deitrich's was once the Crescent Theatre, a neighborhood movie house that evolved into an art theater during the '60s and then decayed into a porno film house before going vacant.

"Bim" Deitrich, who cut his culinary teeth as a partner in the late, lamented Formally Myra's that illuminated the Cherokee Triangle before the expanding Burger's Market grew into its space during the 1980s, moved on from there to rejuvenate the old theater as Deitrich's in the Crescent. The restaurant became instantly popular, and sparked the Frankfort Avenue restaurant and commercial renaissance.

Time has flown, and I recently realized that I hadn't been back since the latest remake, in which the Brasserie name was added in a general Frenchification of the restaurant's concept. Happily, a recent visit reveals that Deitrich's is at the top of its form as one of the most amiable eateries in town, reaching very close to four-star status.

I've always liked the style of this place, which divides the old theater into a huge dining room that cascades down a long, slanted floor with several intimate sections divided by terraces topped by potted plants and oversize wine bottles, allowing a good separation between smoking and no-smoking sections. (No such separation exists in the otherwise classy Bar Meteor, unfortunately, a lovely venue that's invariably clouded with a haze of smoke.)

The open kitchen is placed where the movie screen used to be, with hulking black overhead ventilation ducts creating an intriguing industrial-gothic decor element. The interior is rather dark (what do you expect from a movie house?) but heavy white tablecloths, discreet lighting and flickering votive candles in attractive amethyst and jade colored art deco holders push the darkness back far enough that you can make out the big French drinks posters of the '20s on the towering walls.

Tables are set with heavy bistro-style plates and flatware, and - as is sadly all too common even in the city's better restaurants - undersize, overweight wine glasses that don't really show off good wines at their best.

The menu begins with first courses, including salads, soups and an interesting array of appetizers, several of them suitable for a light meal in themselves. Prices range from $5 for fried squid (calamari fritti, if you prefer) with ancho chile mayonnaise or a mixed green salad with creamy herb vinaigtrette, to $8 for shrimp gratinee. Other popular starters include salmon rillettes with Mediterranean flatbread ($5) and duck won tons Vietnamese ($6).

Sixteen main course choices range from $9 (for a classic cheeseburger with sauteed onions and french fries) to $23 (for filet mignon sauce bearnaise).

The wine-by-the-glass list failed to impress me with its short collection of about 10 modest, mass-market labels from $5 for Beringer White Zinfandel to $7 for Bogle Petite Sirah, a wine available at retail for not much more than that for an entire bottle.

The bottle list is much better, happily, featuring more than 60 wines from about $21 (for 1998 King Estate Pinot Gris from Oregon, a fine choice with seafood) to $70 (for Cosentino's 1997 Meritage "The Poet," a well-regarded California red.) The middle range, where I generally like to browse for good value wines at prices below the suck-in-your-breath range, was a little sparse, but I ended up with 1998 Toad Hollow Cacophony Sonoma County Zinfandel ($25), a robust red at a fair markup.

Our meal begain with slices of crusty, tangy levain bread from nearby Blue Dog Bakery, wrapped in a white napkin in a pewter serving tray with a tub of fresh butter.

We began with a shared appetizer, Southwestern fried oysters with chipotle aioli ($6), a half-dozen juicy, batter-fried oysters in a crispy breading laced with a warm but not fiery spice. Some golden, a few darker brown, they were plated on a smoky aioli (garlic mayonnaise) that was spicy enough to leave a pleasant afterburn. They were so good that I could probably have downed a couple of dozen, but more good things awaited.

An arugula salad with prosciutto and melon ($6) featured fresh arugula topped with julienne strips of prosciutto and pale melon dice. The arugula was fresh and flavorful and the cantaloupe fine, but the bits of ham were disastrous: dried-out and funky with the stale freezer-burn taste of something left in the refrigerator crisper for way too long. It was the only flaw of the evening, so out of place that we chatted up the server about it. He later confided that, through a mistake, the kitchen had failed to "fry" the prosciutto. This still seemed a little odd since this great Italian ham isn't usually cooked, but let it pass ... it was an odd misstep in an otherwise exemplary dinner.

A frisee salad ($6) was delicious. I love frisee, those lightly bitter and crisp little "trees" of baby endive, tossed with soft, sweet bits of roasted shallot and a lightly sweet-hot (but not sticky) chile-maple vinaigrette.

Entrees arrived artfully arranged on oversize white plates. The garlic crusted pork loin ($17) had been covered with crushed raw garlic and roasted, browning as it cooked and infusing the pork with a potent garlic flavor. It was sliced into five medallions and topped with just-wilted ("melted," the menu said) leaf spinach, accompanied by mashed potatoes piped out of a pastry tube in a pretty rosette pattern, seductively rich with cream and butter.

Crispy chicken ($14) was a boned half-chicken roasted to a turn, crusty on the exterior and juicy within, carrying a healthy waft of herbal tarragon and black pepper flavors. The accompanying potato gratin was creamily seductive and rich.

Both dinners were garnished with what seemed to be the veggies du jour, crisp-tender carrot slices and sugar snap peas, and both were so good that my wife and both envied each other's ration and ended up trading plates.

A shared dessert, creme brulee ($5) was an ample portion served in a black ramekin wrapped in an origami-style white napkin. Creamy and rich with the appropriate glassy caramelized surface, dusted with powdered sugar and served with a giant strawberry, it was a fine example of the genre ... fit for a brasserie.

Cappucinos ($3) in oversize black cups made a fine ending to an excellent meal. The service was good, friendly, but not terribly attentive. Forks were replaced on cue, but water glasses went without refills throughout the meal, and long gaps between courses could have been irritating if the atmosphere and my company hadn't been so pleasant.

Dinner for two, including the wine, came to $90.10, plus a $15.90 tip. $$$