Strictly Memphis

From grub to booze, this Kensington taproom is doing it right.

by Elisa Ludwig

Michael T. Regan NA ZDROWIE: The "Port Richmond Platter" — crispy grilled kielbasa, sauerkraut, potato pancakes and pierogies — in all its Polish glory. (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

If the mood at Memphis Taproom is gleeful, it could be because everyone working at this new gastropub in Port Fishington knows they have a winner. This is an old-school corner bar reinvigorated with all the right touches: vintage lighting fixtures, artisan ironwork, a set of taps spouting 11 affordable craft beers (every pint's a mere $4), accessible yet interesting eats and serious vegan and vegetarian options. The soundtrack hits all the right nostalgia buttons, from classic rock to GBV. Even the ketchup slides out easy.

Of course, Memphis, once home to a watering hole called Walt's, had good bones to begin with. It has that classic Philly barchitecture with the narrow front room outfitted in a grand expanse of mirror, wood and tiled flooring, opening to a wider rear room with tables. The back room has been configured for dining; between the pewter tin ceiling and the shiny dark wood floor are sage green wooden banquettes and pale yellow walls; stacks of glass block streaming light. A window and an ever-dinging bell for servers managing drink orders connect this room directly to the art deco bar.

Co-owner Brendan Hartranft (formerly of Nodding Head, and another example of the theory that all serious Philly beer establishments can be traced back to patriarch Fergie) is now stationed behind that bar, making friendly suggestions and offering the occasional mini-glass of Victory Prima Pils, ensuring there is nary an empty hand in his establishment.

Chef Jesse Kimball (of Matyson and Lacroix) has crafted a smart day-to-night menu that distinguishes his kitchen without overshadowing the liquid refreshments. Indeed, if there's a theme to the cuisine, it's how to incorporate beer into as many menu items as possible.

In the house version of Cornish meat pies ("PAs-ties have tassles. We serve pAH-sties," our server says. "I have to make the joke so no one else does"), starter-sized, coarse salt-crusted pockets of golden flaky dough are filled with shredded Belgian beer-braised beef, then set over a slather of creamy horseradish-dill sauce. Beer brines hot wings and brightens hummus. Mixed with a little oil, it makes a delicate vinaigrette for the house green salad. Malty Old Peculier ale is swirled into molten cheddar for the "King Rarebit" sandwich; the tangy fondue is layered with sunny-side-up eggs between two thick slices of grilled Texas toast. At weekend brunch, a rotating wheat beer even replaces champagne in the house mimosa. Recently, it was Tröegs DreamWeaver, the cloudy ale's banana perfume playing nicely to the orange juice. Ingenious.

Even without the benefit of beer, Kimball's creations are memorable — all the more so given that they're meant to be eaten while tying one on. "Corn dodgers," aka hush puppies, are surprisingly airy balls of cornmeal studded with jalapeño peppers and fried golden crisp. If there is a more delicious fried onion in the city than Kimball's "Walla Walla Suicide Rings" — spicy spirals of battered sweet onion with a creamy habanero mayo for dipping — I have not encountered it.

Seitan made in-house is lavished in a deceptively sweet barbecue sauce that's got a hot-chili punch. Served on a soft sesame-seeded roll with smoked cole slaw, it's like a Manwich for the conscientious diner (though pork can be substituted for the average Joe). The fries, hand-cut wedges with the skin on, are alternately crisp and pliable, sprinkled with a smattering of coarse salt.

Kielbasa, that indigenous sausage of Port Richmond, is elevated to excellence in a hoagie with a remarkably nonstinky sauerkraut, lip-tingling mustard and melted cheddar. It also appears, naturally, on the Port Richmond platter, halved and grilled to pink plumpness, arranged with a thick fried puck of a potato pancake and crimp-edged, pan-seared potato pierogies, plus more mustard and kraut. At brunch there is a fine corned beef hash, with mashed-up potato and smoky bits of beef, served with fries, a slice of that giant Texas toast and "two eggs" — though it seems like more.

There is room for fine-tuning in the chicken fried chicken, three hefty strips of fried boneless breast meat with a crackery, craggy and overly thick crust. The chicken, in places, is stringy. Still, I wouldn't change a thing about its accompaniments: a teeny-tiny split hot biscuit dripping with melted butter, sweet braised collard greens with caramelized onion, paprika-dusted macaroni salad and a dollop of red-pepper mayo.

One doesn't expect much in the way of dessert from a taproom, and Memphis, a server told us, doesn't have a big enough kitchen to produce its own. But it does have the good sense to bring in excellent local product like Stock's pound cake, which is often served grilled. Even better is the vegan cookie assortment from the North Port Fishington Cookie Factory — a peanut butter sandwich cookie filled with peanut butter cream, a chocolate sandwich cookie filled with chocolate mousse and an oatmeal sandwich cookie with vanilla filling — that will make animal fats suddenly seem hopelessly obsolete. Our server, cheerful from the start, seemed especially happy wielding these marvelous confections. And who could blame her?

(e_ludwig@citypaper.net)

Memphis Taproom | 2331 Cumberland St., 215-425-4460, memphistaproom.com | Food served daily, 11:30 a.m.-midnight; brunch served Sat.-Sun., 11 a.m.-5 p.m.| Appetizers, $4-$13; Entrées, $6-$15