Another month, another restaurant opens in the Mosaic District in Fairfax, a development that, like Kanye West and José Andrés, seems to know no limits.
The latest lure is called Brine, and it unites two brands, Virginia oysterman Travis Croxton, whose wares from the Rappahannock Oyster Company can be slurped in all 10 restaurants in which he has a stake, and chef John Critchley, best known locally for his tenure at the upscale Bourbon Steak in Georgetown. When Critchley left the restaurant a year ago in March, he said he hoped to spend more time with his family and plot a place of his own. When Croxton spelled out his vision for his current restaurant, the chef knew they could do business, because both men wanted the same thing: a raw bar and a wood fire in a casual setting.
Their shared interests lead to some fine meals in Brine's expansive, pearl-gray dining room, give or take a dish in a restaurant that sailed onto the scene in May. It's hard not to fall for a place that befriends customers with a pail of warm, salt-sprinkled Parker House rolls, which Critchley says he felt comfortable serving with the closure of CityZen, the lofty restaurant in the Mandarin Oriental where the bread became a luxe signature. Brine's cocktails are mostly choice drinks, too. Nut Alert — George Dickel rye, sweet vermouth and Frangelico — feels the most local, flavored with a tincture made from Virginia peanuts.
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Oysters to start are a no-brainer. On the sweet side are Croxton’s farm-raised Rappahannocks. Fans of saltier selections will cheer his Stingrays and Olde Salts — Virginia varieties that lend credence to the restaurant’s title — and (some lucky days) coppery belon oysters from Maine. Surfers with a larger appetite or more table mates might spring for the $38 Mosaic Platter, which assembles on a bed of crushed ice half a dozen oysters, Olde Salt clams and lemony poached Carolina shrimp, along with a tangy seviche. Happy diving.
Clams show up in two of the best dishes I’ve come across in the Mosaic District. “Lambs and clams” are as much fun to say as to eat. The one-two punch of fiery merguez sausage and harissa in the pan, along with tender steamed clams and a shellfish broth you can mop up with thick pieces of grilled bread, is wave after wave of pleasure. (A similar dish is also served at Croxton’s slip of a seafood bar at Union Market in the District.) Plankton bucatini is less poetic in print, but just as compelling on the palate. The idea originated at Bourbon Steak with razor clams. Brine serves the nori-green cords of pasta with steamed clams in a fish broth enriched with brown butter. The dish, which is also ignited with chilies, is meant to share, but ... must I?
Croxton and Critchley subscribe to the school of understatement that Corby Kummer would find refreshing. Ranting in Vanity Fair recently, the Atlantic senior editor wrote, "Today, chefs can't shut up about where every morsel that went into every dish got its start in life." Croxton and Critchley don't brag about being F2T — er, farm to table — they just do what's expected of a conscientious restaurant. At Bourbon Steak, when he wasn't doling out the namesake protein, Critchley served only the stars of the sea. At Brine, the chef stocks fish that are local and abundant if not necessarily the most popular in school. It's a treat to see croaker and perch, mild and flaky fish that are cooked a la plancha (on a hotplate grill) and that take well to Brine's house-made sauces, including a peppery sofrito. An underliner of Italian parsley, dandelion greens and baby kale adds a pleasing bite to the fish.
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When it comes to the “daily roast,” three-ways are the norm here; every part of every beast that comes through the door appears to get used. The rotisserie is the source of a rotating meat that might see bison in the forms of sausage, marrow and roast shoulder dressed with a fermented black bean vinaigrette and rounded out with vegetables kissed by the fire.
Critchley says he relishes a good burger, a passion borne out in his griddled sandwich at Brine. The grass-fed beef for the patty comes from Roseda Farm in Maryland, and it’s seasoned with what the chef calls vegetable “ash” made with leftover vegetables that have been roasted over coals, dried and pulverized with sea salt. The bun supports vinegary onion jam, too, and a slice of cheddar by way of Vermont. (I glean the pedigrees from the chef only after dining at Brine, not from the menu or servers.) Eating the burger is messy business, but, hey, that’s what napkins are for.
Brine looks like a hundred other places I’ve dined in the past few years, attired with walls of glass, concrete floors and a prop or two to lend warmth to an otherwise industrial setting, in this case, wood stacked high in a corner. The care that goes into so much of the food ceases with the seats. Like loud music, Brine’s small, hard chairs prompt some diners to eat faster than they normally would, just to minimize the time their backs and other body parts have to spend on the uncomfortable perches. A pity. Mango mousse with coconut meringue is otherwise worth hanging around for.
The kitchen gets a lot right, but not everything. Fish and chips features catfish in a crisp sleeve of beer batter and fine french fries, but each bite of the entree unleashes a BP-esque oil slick in the mouth. A squeeze of lemon helps but doesn’t eliminate the problem. As much as I like trout, the flavor of the catch was lost beneath an odd green coat of Japanese bread crumbs tinted with seaweed. Supposedly “spicy” eggplant tossed with peanuts and delivered in a small black skillet is a side dish that sounds more exciting than it tastes. The promised heat is elusive. (A better consort is the creamy, white-corn polenta topped with a slice of buttery Appalachian cheese.)
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“Is everything okay?” too many people ask too many times. While affable and familiar with the food they’re serving, the staff at Brine can be as clingy as Saran wrap. “If he comes over one more time,” a companion said of one particularly intrusive server, “I’m going to ask him to pull up a chair.”
Rappahannock in Richmond, Rocksalt in Charlottesville and Charlotte — Croxton’s restaurant empire is, for the most part, city-centric. With Brine, the entrepreneur says he has a chance to “get the message across to more people” in the suburbs: Local and sustainable are easy to swallow.
Location:2985 District Ave., Fairfax. 703-280-1000. www.brinerestaurants.com.
Open:5 to 10 p.m. Tuesday through Thursday, 5 to 11 p.m. Friday; 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. Saturday, 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. Sunday.
Prices:Appetizers $2.50 (per oyster) to $18, main courses $13to $29.
Sound check:82 decibels / Extremely loud.
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