Restaurant Review: Tender Meats and Craft Cocktails at Blind Rabbit Kitchen 

• Alex Springer
• Bone Marrow Tacos

Sugar House's main commercial drag has always been hard on new restaurants, but the current road construction project along 2100 South has been its own special nightmare. Though the construction is including some improvements to the walkability of downtown Sugar House, the agonizing timeline means we'll have to navigate detours and parking shortages for the foreseeable future.

Be that as it may, there are plenty of reasons to check out Blind Rabbit Kitchen, a new concept from the team that brought us Sol Agave. In the time since I wrote about Sol Agave in American Fork (749 W. 100 North), the eclectic Mexican restaurant has opened a second location in downtown SLC (660 S. Main Street). While Blind Rabbit is conceptually different from Sol Agave, the same penchant for atmospheric details and creative culinary perspective are on display.

At its core, Blind Rabbit is a casual steak-and-cocktail spot with just a touch of sophisticated flair. Its current location has been home to a few defunct concepts; those who remember Pizza Volta will know what I'm talking about. Given the fact that Blind Rabbit is replete with lovely, rustic-chic design choices along with its menu that is heavy on shareables and craft cocktails, this should be a perfect location.

The problem is that it also happens to be ground zero for all that aforementioned road construction that has effectively turned 2100 South into a dead end. Even though it's still within orbit of the movie theater and shopping center on Wilmington Avenue, business was surprisingly light when my wife and I paid it a visit on a Friday night. When your first visit to a restaurant happens to fall on a weekend and the place isn't exactly hopping—forgive the rabbit pun—your mind starts wandering a bit. My natural instinct was to shake my fist at the gutting of 2100 South, which I learned was correct as the evening progressed. Reservations were getting filled, the wine and beer was circulating, and the food perfectly aligned with the aesthetic.

Sol Agave's Mexican roots are definitely on display at Blind Rabbit, but I found myself drawing comparisons to higher-end Argentine steakhouses like Libertango. The appetizer side of the menu is full of great smaller plates that can be shared, and my wife and I opted for the bone marrow tacos ($18). They arrive on an irregularly-shaped wooden platter; giant plateware is a common theme at Blind Rabbit, and it really highlights the sheer size of each dish. This dish is complete with three sliced beef bones filled with a mixture of chopped ribeye and bone marrow. The protein is accompanied by some housemade blue corn tortillas—prepped street-taco style—along with three different salsas.

Incorporating bone marrow into a ribeye will always be a good idea, and the tactile experience of scooping this meaty concoction onto your tortilla directly from the bone can't be beat. While enjoying our tacos, we also ordered the bread basket ($3), which is a small basket full of home-made rolls topped with some caraway seeds and roasted garlic. They're warm when they arrive at your table, and evoke the flavors of a slightly-more-subtle everything bagel. It's only three bucks, so just add it to your order.

For the main course, my wife went with the sopa de mariscos ($33) and I ordered the 15-ounce pork tomahawk ($48), because it's not summer without a bit of surf & turf. The sopa arrived in a giant earthenware bowl with one of the biggest prawns I have ever seen nestled among morsels of salmon, mussels and littleneck clams. The foundation of this dish is a gorgeous tomato broth. Its deceptive crimson hue hides a vast galaxy of herbaceous flavors ideally curated for seafood. This was an absolute win, especially for those who are on the lookout for memorable seafood dishes in town.

My pork tomahawk also arrived in memorable fashion: The meat is sliced off the bone and arranged on the plate at the base of the bone, which stands erect thanks to a bed of whipped mashed potatoes. It's served with two garnishes of achiote glaze and pickled pineapple, both of which do a lot to highlight the flavor of the pork. I thought the gigantic spears of charred broccolini added some rustic visual appeal to the dish, but their slightly undercooked preparation makes them a bit of a chore to eat—or maybe this is simply because I don't always like to eat my vegetables.

Of course, your entire meal should be accompanied by one of Blind Rabbit's signature margaritas, which can be made as a mocktail ($11) in addition to tequila ($13) and mezcal ($15) options. I was a fan of the grilled piña because of the smoky kick imparted by the chili de arbol. They also have a nice selection of beer on draft, and a full roster of non-margaritas at your disposal.

I'm confident that Blind Rabbit can remain the hip Sugar House night spot that it's destined to be, but let's make sure to show this place some love while it's got that heinous construction gumming up the works.