I’m not quite sure how happening the restaurant scene was in Phoenixville back in 1893, but I can tell you that the venerable Columbia Bar & Grille (then known as the Columbia Hotel) was certainly a part of it.
Still so Victorian-in-style to its very foundation, CB&G is much the same downstairs as it has been since the time a young, dimpled Steve McQueen stopped in during the filming of The Blob in 1958 to order steak and apple fritters. The foyer, adjacent (clubby) lounge with its cherry and mahogany bar and adjoining dining rooms are parloresque, out of another era, all with an early twentieth-century feel.
Indeed, the clientele fits the swanky spaces. Fifty-and-60ish men sporting jackets, stogies and giant gin ‘tini’s accompany ladies draped in pearls, bejeweled fingers lightly grasping jumbo vodka gimlets of their own.
Upstairs is much more contemporary and yes, much younger. The space is one open room; the woods along the expansive bar and on flanking beams are blonder than they are below. Some splashy prints deck the walls. A forty-something sips a Shiraz bar side next to a gaggle of slim and high-heeled 25-year-olds sharing shakers of cosmos. In one corner a duo plays; he’s got a mean guitar strum and she’s a vocal dead ringer for Nora Jones.
Though aesthetic embellishments have brought CB&G into the modern era, the overall tradition of the place has remained intact along with its menu of American classics.
A salad “wedge,” jumbo lump crab Newburg, stuffed pork chops, flounder Imperial – they all hark back to a time that seems to recede farther into the past, like long lost remnants of Blob juice seeping through cracks along a red-bricked sidewalk.
I begin with a hard-to-find favorite of mine, their Old World Snapper Soup, served with a cruet of sherry on the side. The wide bowl contains an hours-long simmer of deeply flavorful broth, threaded with sweet and tender pieces of turtle.
It is fulfilling yet barely lukewarm. I’ll find throughout the night that the distance from downstairs kitchen to up-steps dining room will take some of the temperature off the food
“Classic” Caesar is classic enough to use that term. Vegetable spring rolls with a Thai chili sauce have good snap and fresh crunch. Seared rare Pacific Rim tuna served sashimi-style is pristinely perfect.
Entrees are brought out. The filet mignon is hand cut and served with an herb demi-glace, a piquant side of béarnaise and fried artichoke as garnish. The quality and cooking of the beef is superb and worth its $34 price tag.
I first order grilled halibut topped with a pineapple couscous, but it goes back fast. The fish appears vulcanized. I have no idea how the kitchen could have let that one out; just by looking at the Play-Doh-y slab, I knew it was a goner before my knife even got near that poor ex-swimmer.
My replacement order was a (very sweet and tender) grouper on a bed of rice. The preparation was certainly different, for me at least. This simple light fish was in a hearty red wine reduction of pinot noir, its billed “caviar” was a beaded splotch that was just barely there on top with too-thick asparagus spears guarding the fish like bamboo sentries. The aroma was earthy, pungent and a bit odd, but the flavor was fine.
Our chocolate lava cake finale was quite good; it did “ooze” volcano-like as promised though again, the temp was on the mild side.
Clear, astringent alcohol reigns here with vodka and gin taking center stage, though there’s a serviceable beer and wine selection, with deeper thought put into the liquid grapes offered than in past years.
It’s worth mentioning the professionalism of the wait staff. Danielle was a dear, genuine and full of servitude, her hands-clasped-in-concern demeanor an endearing trait. She represents the site well.
I also like the comfortable private dining rooms they offer for small groups, again, brushed with modern touches amid this very old abode. Live music on Friday and Saturday nights gives great energy to this welcoming space along Chesco’s newest restaurant row.
I can’t tell you what things were like dining-wise in this town back in 1893, but today, your culinary selection is certainly pretty vast. You’ll find artisan cheeses at one place and signature mussels at another, but only here will you find real snapper soup and one big-ass martini like in days of old.
AroundPhilly Staff
