The bartender, a pen tucked behind his ear, jogs out from behind the bar to pass out menus to a table of ladies and directs their gaze to the small chalkboard across the room. On the sound system, the pop band Tears for Fears sets the calendar back some two decades.
The surface of our table is a collage – a Trivial Pursuit board game under a layer of polymer. Pick another table and there’s another themed collage – playing cards or Harley-Davidson memorabilia or photos of people redoing the interior of a storefront bar. Thisbar. The bar they’re calling The JACK,an acronym for the four people involved: owners Joe and Amy Brinks, their 4-year-old daughter, Charley, and business partner Kyle Hansen.
The adults in this equation have a common curriculum vitae – all can name West Allis restaurant Crawdaddy’s as a past place of employment. Once they decided to open their own space, they had at least one goal to fulfill – go local. It’s not too difficult for the bar, where you have your pick of Wisconsin microbrewed beer. Not as easy, though, when the focus shifts to the kitchen and to what’s being sliced and diced on a cutting board. But The JACK’s owners are doing what they can, such as buying from the indoor farmer’s market at State Fair Park and from sustainable ag resource Growing Power.
But make no mistake: The JACK is a bar. It might have free Wi-Fi, but it’s got darts, too. The menu may have artichoke dip and pretzels served with mustard. But it also sports chicken breasts slit open and filled with seafood-spinach stuffing and served with coriander-anise Merlot sauce. Maybe something happens when you get “dangerously close to Stallis,” as The JACK’s Web site says. Specifically, it’s in West Milwaukee, in a building last known as Forty8. It was vacant long enough that cleanup had to be undertaken in earnest. A wood floor and a ceiling painted to look like antique tin were part of the upgrades.
Patrick Urban – who also worked at Crawdaddy’s as a sous chef – gets the props for menu development, making sauces from scratch and baking The JACK’s desserts – everything from pumpkin cheesecake to pretzel rods dipped in chocolate.
One night, the plate in front of me is bacon-wrapped shrimp with a grapefruit-blueberry salsa ($14.99). I choose – oddly, I admit – mushroom risotto as my starch. The juices from the bacon and salsa make the dish a little soupy, but the flavor is good – smoky and sweet – though the shrimp is a tad too firm. The hill of bumpy risotto is at once creamy and chewy, the trace of al dente I always look for. The next moment, Urban is standing next to me, inspecting his handiwork. As quickly, he has turned and is halfway back to the kitchen, a curl of a blond
tail hanging over the neck of his white chef’s smock.
That shrimp? That’s called fancy bar food. Burgers and sandwiches are standard fare, but manage to taste a cut above that. The juicy third-pound burger ($5.99) melts into the tender middle of a Kaiser bun. A slice of smoked Gouda is a good, creamy patty-enhancer.
The Jack Knife sandwich is, by all appearances, just a steak sandwich ($6.99). A big steak sandwich – sourdough bun meets tender hanger steak (so named for the way the meat hangs from the cow’s diaphragm) and then collides with Pepper Jack cheese and sautéed mushrooms and onions. It’s the best sandwich here. The ’Rican (similar to a Cuban sandwich) is a substantial layering act of roast pork and ham, provolone and sliced pickle, but the mustard andmayo make it too wet ($7.99). The grilled salmon sandwich retains its juiciness, but calls for a more liberal application of root beer barbecue sauce ($7.99). The sides – tater tots, chips and seasoned fries – are names you’ve seen before, but with some attention from Urban, they’re hot to trot. Especially the delicate homemade chips, a combo of potatoes, beets and sweet potatoes.
Back on the higher-end thread, the sautéed tilapia leads the way ($12.99). The sliced seafood sausage on top doesn’t seem necessary, but I wouldn’t have it without the river of Zinfandel citrus cream. Roasted red potatoes echo the hearty season. Just as the cream is essential to the tilapia, the subtle coriander-anise Merlot sauce lifts the stuffed chicken breast far above mundane ($11.99).
I study the mounted, antlered jackrabbit head above the side door, but only momentarily. There are more important considerations here, like the pumpkin spongecake roll with sweetened cream cheese filling ($3). It’s like childhood all over again.
The JACK is doing live music, a monthly cribbage tournament, a Friday fish fry and prime rib on Tuesday nights. All signs that this joint is serious about a fluid identity.
The JACK Bistro Beer Joint:4823 W. National Ave., 414-384-8111. Hours: daily 11 a.m.-10 p.m. (late-night menu 10 p.m.-midnight). Prices: appetizers $1.99-$6.99; sides and salads $2.50-$8.99; sandwiches $5.99-$8.99; entrées $10.99-$14.99; desserts $2-$4. Dress: whatever your little heart desires. Service: friendly, unpretentious, quick. Credit cards: M V A DS. Handicap access: yes, use side door. Nonsmoking section: No, but the restaurant is smoke-free on Fridays. Reservations: accepted.
