French-Latin cuisine elicits an unprecedented ‘wow’

I’m naturally reticent and don’t care much for talking. I believe in the sanctity of ha, breath, and that it should not be wasted on the trivial, so while some people say they miss phone calls in the era of texting, I’m perfectly fine with typing back and forth.

That means people don’t really know how I feel about a restaurant until my thoughts show up in print, but my friends know it’s not all that complicated. They just go by the sounds I make because I have such a visceral response to food. What they’re looking for is an extended "Mmmm!" rather than the dreaded, "Oh … no!"

But Grondin French-Latin Kitchen was the first to elicit an emphatic "Wow!" in response to the aji amarillo sauce accompanying its pan-roasted fish, a response that went somewhat viral on Twitter. This brought unexpected pressure. Now everyone who saw the video is looking for another wow moment, but don’t hold your breath waiting. It may be a one-time reaction to a novel new transplant.

Grondin takes its name from one of its owners, Jenny Grondin, who along with David Segarra and chef Andrew Pressler was part of Zakary Pelaccio’s Fatty Crew family of Malaysian-inspired Fatty Crab and Fatty ‘Cue restaurants in New York. Pelaccio has since moved on to Fish & Game in Hudson, N.Y., and the three have gravitated to our shores with a vision of their own, drawing on Grondin’s French and Segarra’s Ecuadorean heritage.

I had the good fortune to have been able to dine at Fatty ‘Cue in Brooklyn (tinyurl.com/n4x8wvx), and Grondin is easily its equal. Word has spread quickly in the foodie community, and the curious who have turned up for a taste have included at least one of our James Beard Award winners and a number of our rising star chefs.

Pressler talked about the similarity between Fatty ‘Cue’s home in Brooklyn and downtown Honolulu, saying he’s seen the South Side Williamsburg neighborhood "go from being a place people are afraid to walk at night to a place with cool businesses opening up. When we came here, it had that same vibe of a neighborhood on the upswing."

It’s ironic that the restaurant found a home in the Mendonca Building, just below the Chinatown Artists Lofts, for Grondin is home to culinary artistry that puts craft and authenticity ahead of glitz and showmanship. As a result, the man on the street may be less wowed than industry professionals looking at the future of restaurants.

I’d been waiting for Grondin to open as soon as I heard about it in December, and it’s been worth the wait for such tapas-style dishes as a ceviche ($13) of Kauai shrimp with the heat of serrano peppers, and pulpo ($15), marinated octopus tossed with onion, olives, roasted red pepper and chilies, or fried plantain chips. Inviting a lot of friends will enable you to sample as many of the small plates as possible.

They put out a killer charcuterie platter laden with two styles of house-made pates, the first a rustic country-style pate de Campagne, and a smoother mousse-textured duck liver pate. There’s also melt-on-the-tongue house-cured jamon, served with cornichons, marinated onions, grainy house mustard and sausage.

For many, the prawn sango ($13) will be an acquired taste due to the thick, lumpy texture of the plantain stew. The first time I had it, it had a briny appeal that grew on me the more I ate it. The second time, the flavor was toned down. It wasn’t the only inconsistency. The Ecuadorean pepper sauce that had elicited my initial wow was less spectacular and more fiery the second time I tried it. But even with the inconsistencies, the comfort level of this cuisine will continue to bring me back for more.

Some quibbled about escargot ($14) that weren’t drowning in butter as served elsewhere. Grondin prefers to showcase the natural flavors of ingredients rather than mask them.

Given the sexy factor of most of the small plates, my ordering the frisee salad was a hard sell among dinner companions, but it turned out to be another favorite, especially when accompanied by thick smoked pork "bacon" and poached egg.

Now it was time to move on to big plates, and among the stars of the menu is Jidori chicken ($20) that is brined for 24 hours, allowed to cook low and slow sous-vide style, thenpan-fried to finish, sealing in all its moisture. It’s served with a side of herbed fingerling potatoes that are not to be missed. They can also be ordered a la carte for $5.

Similarly, the chuleta, a Shinsato Farms loin chop, is brined 24 hours before frying, for saturated flavor throughout. Equally wonderful is the accompanying rice with the perfume of saffron.

For basic types in search of the tried and true, there’s the traditional rich and earthy Southern French cassoulet ($22) of white beans and Shinsato Farms pork shank, and steak frites ($32), strip steak in no-fail peppercorn sauce, served with french fries. There is also a vegetarian version ($18) of the cassoulet, comprising white beans, root vegetables, fennel and tomato confit.

Dessert for now consists of an array of house-made ice cream and sorbets, which is about all anyone can handle after what always turns out to be a satisfying feast.

The beautiful full bar features such signature cocktails as the chili-infused Smoking Maguey and Chanchito, with Pacifico, a Mexican-style pilsner with a shot of tequila and sangrita.

Nadine Kam’s restaurant reviews are conducted anonymously and paid for by the Star-Advertiser. Reach her at nkam@staradvertiser.com.