What Salt and Pepper is doing best is cutting no corners—not in food prep, not in the dining room, not in the servers’ station; everyone was hustling, and my dish was great.
When crowds of people gush about how great a movie is, I usually assume it’s going to be garbage, because I often don’t end up enjoying many “box office hit” movies. But when crowds of people gush about how great a restaurant is, I usually move the joint to the top of my list, because what makes good food is often less debatable than what makes a good movie.
Salt and Pepper did not disappoint on a very busy, summer-sunny, Sunday morning brunch for my first-ever visit to them. Given that this was a single dining experience, this is another “first bite” review speaking from limited exposure.
A bold, simple, modern color scheme on the inside, Salt and Pepper has traditional diner seating including both booths and bar seating. I slid right in at the bar at 11:45am on a Sunday. Waiting for a table would have been around 15 minutes. Not bad for how busy they were, and busy they remained.
I will be frank with you, readers, I sometimes roll my eyes at overly positive food and restaurant reviews—quite hypocritical of me, really, given that I plan to keep my critique intentionally gentle and positive for the present column—but Salt and Pepper really left me no choice. I can’t wait to go back and try more of their dishes, because what they push out of the kitchen is really good.
What Salt and Pepper is doing best is cutting no corners—not in food prep, not in the dining room, not in the servers’ station; everyone was hustling, and my dish was great. Where they could use help is their lighting; there’s just no need to keep it so dim for a bright brunch spot! Of course, maybe I’ll change my tune come the heat of summer.
While this column’s focus is on the food experience itself, when a venue has multiple kinds of raw or undercooked options on its menu, in this case prosciutto, smoked salmon, and eggs, I want to feel like I can trust the place to handle such food appropriately, which leads me to be extra watchful of my surroundings. I want to see that corners aren’t being cut, that shortcuts aren’t being taken, because whatever flies in the front of the house, flies even further in the kitchen.
At Salt and Pepper I saw the front of house manager and servers doing the due diligence of wiping down individual clean cutlery (thank you, because I can’t stand stray gunk on my silverware while eating out! And if they don’t notice those problems, what else aren’t they noticing?). I saw a spotless fountain soda dispenser and area. I saw coffeemakers, toasters, and dining-ware staging areas appropriately spaced out from the walls, meaning all surfaces are cleanable and thus not hospitable to the critters that sometimes also like to dine in our food places. In other words, I saw all the things I’d want to see in the front of the house that make me comfortable enough to order something “raw or undercooked” from the back of the house, worry-free.
So I doubled down. I ordered the smoked salmon benedict that comes garnished with lemon zest and a matching-ly tangy hollandaise. That sauce will bring me back on its own. A couple things I loved about this dish besides the memorable hollandaise with a bite: the lemon zest wasn’t some measly breath of possibility of lemon peel, but was legit, visible shreds of the stuff, and it was appreciated. The eggs’ yolks were a beautiful dark marigold, and the whites weren’t runny at all. Readers, is it just me, or is it hard to find poached eggs with whites that don’t go full snot river when you open them? Salt and Pepper’s chefs did it just right with a yolk that holds itself steady for a brief moment upon gentle removal of the actually cooked white. And thank you for bringing me a steak knife with the plate. Anybody who eats eggs benedict enough to write about it knows that English muffins have some teeth to them, so my knife needs teeth too, or else I’ve signed up for a frustrating wrestling match with a butter knife. (There are a couple other breakfast spots in town that need to get this memo).
OK, sure, my iced tea was weak, but who knows if that was just a one-off batch or maker issue. My coffee was tasty and freshly brewed, even the decaf. I watched pot after pot being made and poured of the full caf, so be assured you are getting fresh stuff here.
After the benedict, I took two more dishes home so that I could taste more of S & P’s 500 offerings, because unlike cows, javelinas only have one stomach. The coconut French toast came at the recommendation of my server and has a caramelized plantain sauce topping with a mascarpone cream (don’t worry, it is not at all mas-crap-one like the menu typo suggests) and hot maple syrup. I specify “hot” because they have a maple syrup warming apparatus that keeps a couple quarts of the stuff hot and ready for us diners. Such a nice touch. The brioche toast is crusted with coconut crumbles (smaller than shreds so you can actually enjoy the flavor of the whole dish, thank you again) and each piece is about an inch thick, so don’t think you’ll be able to get away with this dish as “just” a side. The batter is not overly sweet, letting you enjoy the buttery sugary contrast delivered by the plantain topping. I’ll be ordering this again, and will be having a major dilemma because I’d really like to try their other “Sweets” offerings, too. Pistachio cream pancakes, anyone?
We also enjoyed the taco trio, but several hours after the fact. The tacos are very meat heavy, so expect to make a big dent in your protein macros with this worth-the-money dish. I didn’t try them hot out of the kitchen so I can only tell you that I think I found some kind of cheat code by eating the shrimp taco cold: it was like a yummy folded southwest ceviche, and boasted some high quality paprika among its ample seasonings. I’ll give the other two tacos in the trio–one steak, one chorizo–a fair shake and review them from hot and fresh at a future visit, like they’re supposed to be enjoyed.
Salt and Pepper doesn’t seem to be cutting corners anywhere, and it shows. They were waitlist-busy up until I left around 12:45pm—and they close at 1. Inside tip for those who don’t like crowds: their slow days are Thursday and Friday, while business peaks on Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday.
After stacking up a dozen visits or so to a single site, the Hungry Javelina writes a more comprehensive review. These inaugural two write-ups are “first bite,” first impression reviews for WZ Bistro and Salt and Pepper, my first time dining at either establishment. So take my takes with a grain of salt, and pepper your comments below—is there a dish I must try? Did you have a different experience? I’d love to hear from you.
Until next dine… The Hungry Javelina
prescottcityguide.com 