TAKE ONE
Torches’ culinary explosions
By Mark Criden; photos by kc kratt
Torches’ “deconstructed salad” is known as “the skyscraper.”
The restaurant kitchen has always been high-testosterone territory. Not that women can’t—and don’t—make the world’s finest chefs, it’s just that the crammed, hot, loud, banging quarters that professional cooks call home are normally more gruff than girlie, and certainly more slammer than salon. And riding herd on these cauldrons are chefs who try to channel Escoffier through the World Wrestling Federation, certified bad-asses who can cook.

Sic transit, Anthony Bourdain.

Buffalo has never been home to many of these bad boy chefs. (Stop waving, Jenkins, I can see your hand.) Our best, despite their tats and Harleys, are still essentially sweethearts; they may look menacing in a dark alley, but only until you see their smiles. The real restaurant gangstas hereabouts have been the boy-next-door, white-collar types.

But while you might need to perfect your sneer to polish your edge on the left and right coasts, you don’t need to be mean hereabouts to be edgy. What you need is nerve and daring, like the brothers Richert, who operate the hot bistro Torches on the cusp of the city.

This spot, flanked by a pizzeria and a Rite Aid, is where restaurants used to go to die before our greatest local chef, Mike Andrzejewski, made the joint a destination with his late, lamented Tsunami. It takes courage to follow Andrzejewski into a location, and J. J. and Kevin Richert have it in spades.

Peruse the menu and you’ll see what the brothers are going for: culinary explosion. Even dishes that seem safe and familiar, like the house salad (romaine, grapes, dried cranberries, warm goat cheese, candied walnuts; $7), pop in your mouth with the richest, deepest aged sherry vinaigrette possible. And for the more adventurous, the deconstructed salad known as the Skyscraper ($8) will forever banish memories of every wan Caesar you’ve had the misfortune to consume. Do prosciutto and goat cheese belong in a Caesar? Does it matter when it tastes this good and is so much fun to eat?

If you go the salad route, you might be tempted to skip the apps, but that would be a mistake. I’ve developed a serious jones for the cornmeal-dusted scallops ($13), which rocket off the plate with chewy caraway-cured duck pastrami, an intense pomegranate reduction, and pear salsa. And if you’ve been cleared by your cardiologist, don’t overlook the gnocchi ($10), crowded with mushrooms and bathed with sage cream and blue cheese. Medic!

Rich as they are, though, the starters at Torches are on the small side, so don’t worry about your capacity for a main unless you’re worried about squeezing into that size 2. I’m a fish guy, and especially fond of their spectacular Mideast salmon ($19), beautifully pan seared and perched on a crisp, grilled pita cracker. At other joints, the equation is Salmon=Boring, but at Torches, the frères Richert create a blast of flavor with lemon hummus and kalamata olive tapenade.

Not so much a seafood lover? Not to worry—the $29 Kurobuta pork chop will party in your mouth, tangoing with luscious sweet potato pumpkin gnocchi, roasted squash, and even more blue cheese. And if you’re really craving meat, don’t miss the steak frites ($27), a sixteen-ounce, perfectly cooked strip happily married to hand-cut fries redolent of garlic, parmesan, and herbs.

To prove they love their roots, the Richert boys offer the makings of an all-Buffalo-style meal. Start with the pierogi cake ($8), served—of course—with stuffed kielbasa and sweet and sour cabbage (ka-bloom!) followed by the wickedly delicious Nickel City Mac ’n’ Cheese, a $16 plate of wonderfulness: macaroni, blue cheese alfredo sauce, buttermilk fried chicken, and Frank’s Red Hot sauce. As last meals go, you couldn’t do much better.

And please try to save room for dessert—J. J.’s wife Cindy is a talented pastry chef.

Can I find fault? Sure: the Chilean sea bass can be a bit too subtle, as can their signature Veal Saltimbocca Garganelle. Occasionally, with specials, reach exceeds grasp. And the wine list could use more edginess. These folks are home-run hitters, and when tough guys like this swing for the fences, you sometimes strike out.

But bravado and culinary adventure rarely flags at Torches (the menu even challenges patrons to “Buy a round for the staff for $8”). J. J. and Kevin Richert are no doubt bad-asses who can cook.

Torches
1141 Kenmore Ave. near Colvin
447-7915
www.torches1141.com

Mark Criden regularly writes about wine and food for Spree.


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