Dwyers reinvents itself as classy steakhouse

The massive maroon structure visible from U.S. 41 looks unchanged, but what's happening inside Dwyers is radically different.

Prior to last week, I'd been to Dwyers once. That was shortly after its opening in 2003. What struck me at the time was that the owners had spent at a pot of gold to build a vast Irish showplace that looks as if it was lifted from the streets of Dublin and relocated to the sunny subtropics. As I recall, the owners hired Irish engineers to make sure it was authentic architecturally. At the time, however, it was clear that the same resources and attention hadn't been lavished upon food and service.

Over the years, I heard much the same thing from those who'd had more recent encounters.

Then over the summer, the sprawling Irish pub shut down for a month and emerged with an entirely different approach that includes a distinguished spa chef who has authored an acclaimed cookbook and often appears regularly on national TV shows and in food magazines.

Bill Wavrin is the new executive chef, bringing with him classical culinary training, as well as experience at some serious spas including the Golden Door and, most recently, the Miraval Spa and Resort in Tucson, Ariz.

>>Churros The result is a menu that shimmers with fresh seasonal flavors melded into intriguing combinations, anchored by a herd of steaks along with some variations on lobster and fish. Side dishes, most of which are available a la carte, range from hearty potatoes Lyonnaise to sautéed spinach and lightly steamed asparagus.

Also immeasurably improved is the service, which was solicitous and hospitable from start to finish. It also included some nice touches I'd not seen this far north of Naples.

And all that is as it should be given the accompanying upgrade in menu prices.

Dinner begins with a complimentary aperitif called a Startini, a refreshing blend of citrus vodka, cointreau and lemonade, accompanied by soft bread sticks, an olive oil-balsamic blend for dipping and a little bowl of mixed olives.

The appetizers - or amuse bouche as the menu refers to them - are a fanciful lot: zesty blackened sirloin tacos with cilantro cabbage salad, two salsas and edamole (I'm guessing that's guacamole with edamame in place of avocado); pan-seared golden crusted scallops on ciabatta bruschetta, roasted tomato and tangerine aji vinaigrette; and golden empanadas with lobster and Yukon gold potatoes.

Both the empanadas and the house apple wood smoked wild salmon with wasabi and cilantro cream, were beautifully displayed, the empanadas on a rectangular glass plate with bright Southwestern accents along the rim. The salmon came in a square glass plate with four square segments into each of which was tucked one portion of the dish - one held tiny bits of tender smoked salmon, another the cream, another crisp ciabatta slices and a fourth crisp lettuce leaves.

The appetizers were as delicious as they were eye pleasing, subtlely seasoned, their flavors reflecting the regions from which the dishes hail.

A house Caesar salad was an equally restrained and refined version of this wellknown dish, featuring whole romaine leaves topped with anchovies, grape tomatoes, fresh Parmesan-Reggiano and a subdued dressing, that resulted in a much lighter, less fatty Caesar than I've usually encountered.

And then another surprise: a dollop of tart blood-orange sorbet bathed in a touch of champagne. It's a bracing version of the pre-entrée palate cleanser and one that worked well.

As creative and multi-layered as the appetizers were, entrees were far more traditional and simple: grilled ribeye, filet mignon, New York strip or Porterhouse (this in the 22- or 48-ounce portions), veal or lamb chops, Maine lobsters, Alaskan crab legs and chicken Dijonaise.

Although most steakhouses sell all their veggies and starches a la carte, Dwyers' entrees come with a choice of orange-scented red yams, roasted garlic mashed potatoes or Dwyers' mélange of grains. Should you also want asparagus, spinach or broccoli, steak fries or wild mushroom sauté, those are extra, as are sides of Maytag blue cheese, hollandaise and béarnaise sauces and the Oscar (crab and béarnaise) treatment.

A steak seemed obligatory given its dominance of the menu, so I bypassed that 48-ounce Porterhouse (priced at $75 and, no doubt, meant for two to share) and selected a more moderate steak Diane ($38).

The dish was a somewhat unusual version: a whole steak, rather than the tenderloin pounded and/or sliced thin, was topped with a dark, savory sauce redolent of garlic and rosemary. That sauce made it difficult to detect the fatty chunks that remained. As for the meat itself, it had neither the rich flavor nor the tender texture of an aged steak. It wasn't a bad steak, just not a noteworthy one.

The orange was evident on the large segment of yam side dish. It was a light, refreshing departure from the usual butter, brown sugar, et al. that often overpower the delicate sweetness of the yam.

The nightly fish special ($28) was an herbcrusted red snapper with artichoke tapenade and sweet potato dirty rice. It had a great look, especially with the black and white rice studded with orange rolled into a cylinder that stood next to the fish. The combination of flavors and textures was excellent, with the exception of the fish itself, which was slightly overcooked and dry as a result. The rice and the tapenade were right on target.

The desserts, touted as "decadently healthy" on the menu, sounded more like the former than the latter. OK, they may contain no trans fats, but those churros cannot be diet legal. The long, fried cinnamon-scented fritters are served hot, crisp outside, creamy within, dusted with sugar and accompanied by a rich chocolate syrup for dipping. If this is health food, make mine a double.

As good as the food was, the service was equally accomplished. Granted, it was a slow evening and our server had but two tables with which to contend, but she was gracious and attentive, making sure we had enough wine, water and silverware before we needed it and checking regularly to make sure we had everything we might want.

A manager stopped by each table inquiring how dinner was going. And a charming older gentleman with the air of an Irish proprietor stopped over to check on us a couple of times.

As we left, the hostess let us know that there will be still more coming, including a second-floor martini and tapas bar, live jazz, cooking classes and a cigar patio due to open late this month or so.

I'll likely return to Dwyers to work my way through some of the appetizers and all of the desserts (I dearly wanted to try the plum and white peach buttermilk polenta torte with frozen lavender yogurt but held back). The wine list was wide-ranging, even providing a discriminating by-the-glass menu, from which we enjoyed the MacMurray Ranch pinot noir from Sonoma.

Such a high-end establishment is something of a risky venture given the current economy. These are tough times for many residents and, by extension, the restaurants who count on their business. Dwyers' management is making an investment that says it wants to succeed. May the luck of the Irish be with them.