Bars and coffee shops have an interesting relationship with one another. Coffee shops welcome the daytime society with caffeine, sugary baked goods and plenty of space to set up your mobile office. Bars, on the other hand, exist to undo all that productivity with alcohol and deep-fried appetizers, thus creating the need for more caffeine to get through the next day.
Perhaps it was my recent visit to Brick & Mortar (228 S. Edison Street, 801-419-0871, brickmortarslc.com) that really drove this realization home. It's a bar that was once a coffee shop, which threw my whole paradigm into a tizzy. The goal of my visit then became focused around a single question: Can a bar menu join forces with a coffee shop aesthetic to create something new?
Before Brick & Mortar was the inviting neighborhood bar it's become, it was home to a Campos Coffee shop, which had a sister location in Park City—both of which closed last year due to the pandemic. I had been to Campos Coffee a few times before it closed. Its exposed brick, natural lighting and rooftop patio were ideal for sipping lattes during a springtime afternoon.
Brick & Mortar has kept things pretty much the same; it really is a beautiful building. When I visited for an early dinner, the coffee shop vibe remained strong, which I think is exactly what Edison Street needs. It's the kind of bar that is ideal for giant dorks like me—those whose idea of "going out" equates to an afternoon perusing Ken Sanders' Bookstore for 1980s horror paperbacks, or expanding their collection of local LPs at Diabolical Records before popping over to the Broadway to catch a movie.
I popped in for an early dinner, along with a steady stream of locals that trickled in to grab a drink and watch the Olympics. Based on the rapport the diners had with the staff, this is a place that has built a solid foundation of regulars. Even though it was my first visit, I was still greeted and seated with nothing but a welcoming vibe.
The menu at Brick & Mortar pulls its comfort food notes from all over the place—octopus ($19), and confit duck wings ($14) along with its own signature burgers and tacos. It was a tough call, but I eventually decided to start with the crab dip ($14) followed by some shrimp and grits ($18). Sometimes you just crave seafood slathered in butter and cheese.
The crab dip comes with a generously sized baguette, sliced in half and toasted. I could see this being a nice shareable if you're dining with others, and the crab dip itself packs a lot of flavor. I picked up a bit of cayenne kick, and the lemon zest on top really helps the crab's sweetness stand out amid all that creamy goodness. The shrimp and grits arrived looking perfect—a heap of fluffy, buttery grits thick with melted cheese supported an entourage of plump grilled shrimp topped with grilled mushrooms.
By the time I was two bites in, something about Brick & Mortar became clear: It's a place that takes pride in subverting the diners' expectations. I was expecting the shrimp and grits to be good, but I was also expecting them to employ the same process that I had seen a million times before. With a few little flourishes like the grilled mushrooms and another sprinkle of lemon zest, I was diving into something familiar, but with just enough of a twist to help it stand out. I also think that this is a place that takes pride in its menu and ingredients. Ut's a true-blue gastropub that isn't content with doing the bare minimum.
I decided to test my theory when the dessert menu came around, and I saw that they were serving monkey bread ($10) with crème anglaise, vanilla ice cream and marinated cherries. Banana bread? Just who did they think the were? You never see banana bread on a dessert menu. So obviously, I had to try it.
And you know what? It's awesome. The dish comes out warm, swimming in crème anglaise and the vanilla ice cream that's already starting to melt. It all works well together as those sweet, creamy complements start soaking into the pleasantly thick slices of banana bread, but when you get a bite of those cherries, the whole thing rings like a bell.
Revisiting my question about whether the spirit of a bar can exist happily in the vessel of a coffee shop, I have to say that it's happening at Brick & Mortar. It's evident by the regulars who came in and out, by the prompt service and perhaps most by its menu of comfort food prepared with some unexpectedly effective flourishes. I'm looking forward to seeing how Brick & Mortar continues to evolve and make the Edison Street area even more inviting to those looking for a cool downtown nightspot.