You hardly recognize some parts of the Kansas City area these days, with buildings torn down and built anew at what seemed a breakneck pace over the past decade.
Few areas have seen more transformation than the two-block stretch of Main Street from 49th to 51st streets, which has become in short order a new little restaurant row.I recently connected with two old friends as we checked out the latest of the neighborhood’s newcomers: Jack Gage American Tavern, housed in a building that was most recently a particularly grim Chinese buffet. I shuffled in the door quickly to evade the brutal arctic wind and was pleasantly surprised to see the place had received a massive — and badly needed — makeover.To the right of the entrance, a heavy, handsome bar stretches back toward the kitchen. Surrounding the display of spirits, elaborately painted arched signs depict early 20th-century boxers alongside the name of Jack Gage, a British sports promoter. Owner Blair Hurst bought the sign at an auction. Boxing and booze? Not a bad match.One friend walked in the door right behind me, and our hostess showed us to our seats in the dining room on the other side of the restaurant. I settled into my slightly wobbly but comfortable captain’s chair and took my first look at the lengthy menu. Starters, salads, burgers, sandwiches, “Eggs All Day,” “Tavern Suppers” and house specialties: This was going to be a fairly tough decision.We looked up to see our third making her way to the table. “You’d better start looking at the menu now,” my companion told her.Part of the fun of dining out is sharing appetizers, so we began the bargaining process. The fried green tomato and crabmeat tower was a unanimous first choice. While the “Ducktrap” Smoked Salmon and Chicken “Lollipops” both sounded intriguing, we finally landed on the portabella fries. After quizzing our accommodating and polished server, David, about how several items were prepared, I slipped in the chicken livers and gizzards with our order. I can almost never pass up variety meats when I spot them. My dining companions gamely promised to play along.The crab tower was the first starter to topple, with its crunchy disc of slightly tart green tomato playing nicely against the creamy sauce and fresh-tasting crabmeat. I usually dislike breaded mushrooms, which are often slimy under an armor of batter that slips off and burns your lips, but the portabella fries were a much more grown-up take on the dish. These thick fingers of mushroom cap were coated in a crisp blanket of crumbs that clung tight. Dipped in the side of sweet, punchy and smoky “Come Back” dressing, they too disappeared fast.I was the only one gung ho about the huge pile of tasty livers and gizzards, though everyone partook. “What is a gizzard exactly?” my friend asked as he reached for one — before declaring that he didn’t really want to know the answer. The sizable tidbits had been battered and salted judiciously, though they were cooked a bit past the creamy pink in the center I prefer. They were still tasty, and one diner commented that their flavor was much milder than she had expected. I was grateful that the peppery country gravy was served on the side, letting the diner choose to dunk or not to dunk. (What’s up with burying crispy fried food under a blanket of sauce, anyway? Does anyone really enjoy gloppy, wet breading?)David took care of our empty plates after delivering one friend’s Boston Blue salad of butter lettuce, Maytag blue cheese and bacon with a house buttermilk dressing. My other companion had chosen the chicken and spaetzle soup, swimming with chunks of chicken, vegetables and the tiny free-form dumplings. “We don’t carry chicken breasts,” Hurst told me. “All our chicken is from the rotisserie, right by the bar.” The salad was fresh and full of first-rate flavors and textures. The home-style soup was enjoyable, if not memorable.The timing of the arrival of our entrees was just right — enough repose to digest and chat a bit, but not so much that we wondered what the kitchen was up to. One friend had ordered the Black and Bleu burger, crusted with black peppercorn like a steak au poivre on the outside, and stuffed with more of that Maytag blue inside. The patty was huge, the toppings and bun both a step above average, and the fries hot and crisp. Recognizing that even her most valiant effort would be in vain trying to conquer it, my companion asked for a knife to cut half for later before her first bite.On the other side of the table, my other friend’s pork lemon mustard tenderloin was fork tender and plenty porky (not that easy to achieve with such a lean cut), though he would have preferred a bit more sauce over the top. He was very happy with his sides of red pepper coulis, sauteed spinach and rich, creamy mashed potatoes augmented with sour cream.My rotisserie chicken was served with fine, crisp-tender green beans and those same mashed potatoes. I’m not generally much of a fan of adding anything but milk and butter to mine, but the subtle tang and smooth texture of these won me over. My chicken was extremely moist and well seasoned, and I loved the flavor of the lime, tequila, honey and cumin it was rubbed and basted with. The ingredient list sounds like it might be too much going on in one dish, but the alchemy worked nicely. My only disappointment was the flabby skin, which hadn’t rendered out its fat over the wood fire. Oh, well — after those fried starters, I didn’t really need chicken skin anyway.I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, but we decided dessert was in order nonetheless. We split a wedge of Kentucky pecan pie and a substantial dish of bread pudding. The pie was a thick-crust, deep-dish variation, almost on the order of a Chicago-style pizza. We all enjoyed nibbling at it, but the bread pudding was the real home run to both my companions. One pointed at it with her fork after her first bite, able only to say, “Wow, wow.” Hurst said he and his culinary team, led by chef Richard McPeake, wanted to serve “regional food that represented not only comfort, but some classics with a little bit of a modern spin. But some of them have even a little bit of a retro flair, taking them back to the basics.”That’s a good assessment of Jack Gage’s wide range of fare. Its variety, and the kitchen’s skill in executing it, is worth another trip.
jack gage american tavern
5031 Main St.816-531-4243Hours: 11 a.m.-1 a.m. Monday-Friday, 9 a.m.-1 a.m. Saturday, 9 a.m.-midnight SundayVegetarian choices: Portabella fries, pesto bruschetta, tobacco onion straws, eggs Sardou, fettuccine Alfredo. Salads, macaroni and cheese and some sandwiches can be prepared vegetarian by request.Entrée range: $7.59-$28.99, most $12-$18 Noise level: ModerateParking: Free lot on north side of building and on the streetHandicap accessible: Main floor. Second floor access to be added.Split-plate charge: NoneReservations: Recommended
5031 Main St.816-531-4243Hours: 11 a.m.-1 a.m. Monday-Friday, 9 a.m.-1 a.m. Saturday, 9 a.m.-midnight SundayVegetarian choices: Portabella fries, pesto bruschetta, tobacco onion straws, eggs Sardou, fettuccine Alfredo. Salads, macaroni and cheese and some sandwiches can be prepared vegetarian by request.Entrée range: $7.59-$28.99, most $12-$18 Noise level: ModerateParking: Free lot on north side of building and on the streetHandicap accessible: Main floor. Second floor access to be added.Split-plate charge: NoneReservations: Recommended
what to drink
As befits a tavern, beer is Jack Gage’s strong suit. Taps offer a nice complement of Boulevard, Fat Tire, Stella Artois, Harp, Guinness and the usual domestics. An unusual tap treat is the sweet, spicy and complex Grimbergen Dubbel. The wine list is fairly short, but contains a few notables, including the terrific Two Hands Bella’s Garden Shiraz.
As befits a tavern, beer is Jack Gage’s strong suit. Taps offer a nice complement of Boulevard, Fat Tire, Stella Artois, Harp, Guinness and the usual domestics. An unusual tap treat is the sweet, spicy and complex Grimbergen Dubbel. The wine list is fairly short, but contains a few notables, including the terrific Two Hands Bella’s Garden Shiraz.
MY DINNER AT is a story about a single dining experience. The narrative is based on an anonymous visit. The Star pays for the meal.
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