Meet the king of the middle road. Plunked down next to I-25 in an asphalt jungle of hotels and motels that have no restaurants, much less room service, Vasil's EuroGrilleenjoys a captive audience.
Q Crutchfield
New Old Country: Ambition sometimes outweighs success at Vasil's EuroGrille.
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Too bad those captives won't find anything particularly enjoyable at Vasil's. If this is a EuroGrille, then I'm a EuroBabe.
Although owner Vasil "Bill" Allabashi is a businessman and veteran restaurateur, his three Harvests (the original in Boulder, one not far from Vasil's in Greenwood Village, and one on Colorado Boulevard that's still open) were far from exotic. Maybe that's why he decided to go Euro for Vasil's, his namesake and reportedly last restaurant. "Bill says he wanted to try one more thing before he retired from restaurants," says Carolyn Montanez, special-functions manager for Vasil's.
But nothing about Vasil's hints at its owner's experience -- or noble intentions. While Allabashi brought in executive chef Jeremy Silverman from New York (and, more recently, Arizona), he seems to have hired the same ubiquitous, anonymous designer who's done dozens of other area restaurants. Vasil's dining rooms are agreeable, sort of hotel-ish, with stone floors crafted to look slightly "rustic," tasteful paintings, carefully arranged Pottery Barn knickknacks and, of course, the now-de rigueur baskets full of loaves of bread and carefully placed wine bottles that substitute for real atmosphere.
It's all very...nice.
As is the staff, although it would also be nice if the servers relaxed a bit. But they, like the food they deliver, are all on the self-conscious side. During one dinner, the servers were so stiff they actually twisted the plates back and forth several times after they'd set them on the table, trying to attain that perfect angle. The only thing relaxed at that meal was the butter, one of those delectably fancy French versions that had been allowed to come to room temperature. It was just the thing to slather on Vasil's beautifully made breads, delivered already sliced and carefully arranged in a basket.
The starters were even fussier. The chèvre fritters ($7.95), crumb-coated, gently fried patties of goat cheese, were paired with little rectangles of puff pastry that had been drizzled with a roasted red-pepper purée. We didn't understand the puff pastry -- with the bread, who needed it? -- but the fritters were tasty, what my companion called a Tech Center version of pepper poppers. The beef carpaccio ($8.95) had been sliced much thicker than the norm, which made it a little more like steak tartare than not; still, plenty of mustard, capers and diced red onions kept it from being totally inauthentic, and three long, fat, housemade breadsticks added texture.
We had wanted to follow the appetizers with a couple of cups of soup, but our server told us that the chef had tried the Tuscan bean version and decided the beans weren't tender enough. That chef deserves extra credit for actually tasting the food instead of just sending it out and hoping it's edible. If he tasted the tomato bisque ($3.25 for a cup), then he must like it with too much cream, too much basil and oregano and not enough tomato flavor. And someone should have realized that the Caesar salad ($6.95) carried not even a hint of saltiness -- an odd omission for a dish that's supposed to contain anchovies in some form, even if it's just in the Worcestershire sauce. We supplied our own from the table, but the dressing still lacked depth (not to mention width and breadth). But again, the kitchen scored bonus points by thoughtfully splitting the portion in two rather than making us eat off each other's plates.
Vasil's continued to deliver a mixed message through the entrée course. The Chilean sea bass ($22.95) had none of the rich, oily taste that makes this such a stellar fish; it was also a bit overcooked -- not quite dry, but still slightly stringy and chewy. And while the fillet had been sautéed with fresh tomatoes, capers and wine, the sauce was so reduced that it was more like a thin gravy, and its flavor completely swamped the already floundering sea bass. The diced vegetables on the side -- smooshy tomatoes, zucchini, eggplant, onions and red bell peppers -- not only were obliterated by the sprinkling of fresh herbs that covered every plate, but they had also been cooked with them, which made the veggies bitter. We had substituted horseradish mashed potatoes for the rice pilaf, but the spuds were so dry we asked our server for more of that yummy butter to moisten them up. More dry spuds and pseudo-ratatouille arrived with my otherwise marvelous fourteen-ounce New York strip ($25.95), a delicious prime cut that had been grilled to just a hair over my specification of medium-rare. The beef came with a gravy boat of béarnaise -- when I get to heaven, all boats will be filled with béarnaise -- that was a little too thick but had a good tarragon taste and a tart edge to balance the richness.
Chocolate cake ($4.50) can never be too rich, though, and Vasil's proved it with a dense, dense brownie-like wedge topped with a thick, wavy layer of ganache. The apple streudel ($4.50) was a fun alternative (if not exactly Euro), but it was so doughy and heavy that it seemed more like a breakfast item than the finish to an evening meal.
