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| - Two words: SALAD BINGE. Now, I know that may not be the sexiest combination of words that can be thrown at a restaurant, but before you go, "ugg, let's scroll past this dieting freak", hear me out. Cleveland, and the Midwest in general, is not known for being kind to green things you can't fry. Leafy things are normally served with a sneer out here, or served on the side of something meaty and manly as a wilting afterthought. But there is an upside to the redonkulously huge menu here, and that is a long list of interesting and different salads, plated in substantial portions and whisked out to you quickly. And the salads are darn good. So after sampling most of the menu and going, "ehhh, hit or miss", I've nestled into the welcoming bosom of their salad section. I occasionally come here when I need to remind myself leaves are edible again.
As a bit of a sidebar, I have a bone to pick with Zack Bruell. Out of all the chefs who could conceivably brand themselves, Zack is a head-scratcher, because he seems to have no signature cooking style. Dude, get a style, ANY style, and stick to it. Please. Because your giant schizophrenic menus give me a headache and wonder what's the worth of a celebrity chef when there's no one signature flavor or dish. The menu at Cowell and Hubbard is the worst offender. Most Chinese takeout places would look at this menu and go, "okay, you don't need to have a billion specials".
When I first was handed the menu here I assumed it was the wine list, because it was so long. And there's Asian dishes, French dishes, Italian dishes; you name it it's probably on there. The drawback to this is that meals lack consistency and never feel like something the chef is dying to cook, instead feel like dishes by paint-by-number, that also lack authenticity. I will commend the cooks, for how massive the tome you can order from, a large percentage of the food is darn tasty. But if I'm paying this much for food I want a point of view coming from the kitchen. Also, this generic-ness bubbles over into the design of the restaurant. While Cowell and Hubbard is a handsome large space, it feels a bit bland, like the interior of a wine bar in an airport terminal.
So what's a gal to do with a menu that is so morbidly obese it needs a gastric bypass STAT? Well, take advantage of the fact that instead of one compulsory salad, this place has eight. I've shamelessly sidled up to the bar here and ordered five salads, and they come speeding out, to be stacked in front of me like green jewels. And the salads are everything you want in a salad: more than just leaves to substantiate the plate, zesty zippy dressings, perfect salting and or lemon juice pops, and large sizes to fill you up.
Current menu offerings include the julienne apple, carrot and radish salad with blue cheese, creamy horseradish and walnuts ($9) (fresh, pretty and crunchy). There's a frisee and pork croquette salad with smoked paprika aioli ($9) (take on a classic French salad, porkis the star here and done well). Also there's a quinoa salad with arugula, peppers, squash and raspberry vinaigrette ($8) (a tad bit boring but very virtuous tasting). Also you can choose a beet salad with feta and white balsalmic ($11) (a classic for a reason). My two current favorites are the caramelized fennel and arugula salad with goat cheese, marconna almonds and raspberry vinaigrette ($10) and the artichoke salad with frisee, radicchio and caper berries ($10). There's even more salads, but I think you get the point.
As for, you know, the rest of the menu, it can be hit and miss. I've had a braised rabbit pasta with homemade noodles that was tasty. I've also had fish that tasted old, and paired poorly with some sour cabbage slaw. I've had a dessert of a strawberry napoleon with caramelized pastry sheets, vanilla cream and balsamic glaze. While pretty to photograph, it was awkward to eat (the layers shattered and went everywhere when attacked with a fork).
Why, ultimately, is this my salad joint? For Cleveland, this place gives you some of the most variety you can get in one place, ups the salad flavors to new and interesting heights, and whisks the salads out especially fast. As for a fine dining romantic meal, you can have far better elsewhere downtown, but Cowell and Hubbard is inoffensive.
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