LOCATION: 9.0
Located on the western edge of the Cotton District in Starkville, Commodore Bob’s is in a great spot. Not as great as their previous location on Rue de Grand Fromage, but that space was far too small for what they’re trying to do. The new space is still a little small, but at least now the kitchen staff can move around a bit instead of climbing on top of each other like they had to at the old location.
ATMOSPHERE: 8.1
We’ve been to Commodore Bob’s at their old place on Rue de Grand Fromage, once at their new place for brunch after a football game, and once on a baseball game day for dinner. On every visit it’s been packed, and in fact on our most recent visit, had we not lucked up and gotten the last two seats at the bar, we would have had to go someplace else. Commodore Bob’s does take reservations, but we’ve found that if you want a table on a game day, you need to make your reservations at least a day or two ahead of time.
As noted above, both of their locations have been on the small side, and they seem to stay packed, so the noise level in the restaurant is on the high side. At the new location, the kitchen area is right behind the bar, so it’s much more a part of the activity than it was at the old place.
FOOD: 8.3
You can’t talk about “the food” at Commodore Bob’s without talking about “the drink.”
This is just a small sampling of the bourbons available at Commodore Bob’s. The selection is one of the most impressive in the state:
Some of the staff at Commodore Bob’s run what they call the “Masters of Bourbon,” or “MOB,” and they make visits to various distilleries to taste and select individual barrels of bourbon, after which they’re bottled and shipped to the restaurant. Their “MOB” bottles feature a small label on the back styled after the marionette logo from “The Godfather.” These folks care a lot about their spirits, but they care about bourbon in particular, and this is a great place for the bourbon aficionado to sink into a few glasses of high-quality stuff, but it’s also a great place for those curious about it to learn from a friendly and enthusiastic staff.
The wine list is also well-populated with high-quality and eclectic bottles, and the cocktail menu is lengthy and creative.
We were split, however, on one particular cocktail, the “Black Walnut Old Fashioned,” which came highly recommended by the staff. I’m old-fashioned myself, I freely admit, and therefore not inclined toward tinkering with a classic like the Old Fashioned. My companion is far more open to those things, and loves to try experimental takes on venerable old cocktails. I thought the Black Walnut Old Fashioned was a miss; my companion thought it was a hit. We both agreed that the sour cherry was spot-on (bartenders who really care about their craft can often be identified by their attention to detail on this one tiny matter), but I thought the use of the orange wedge was ill-considered. I don’t want the flesh and the pulp in my Old Fashioned; just the peel, gently twisted to release the aromatic oils. So if you’re a traditionalist, our advice is to stick with the classics; otherwise, you can have a field day with a long list of original creations as well as creative twists on old standbys.
Now let’s get on to the food.
The menu features some interesting and well-executed starters. We had the arancini: Three cheese-stuffed balls of risotto, deep fried and served with a little marinara. If you’ve had arancini before, you know that balls of rice stuffed with cheese, rolled in bread crumbs and deep fried, can be pretty heavy. These were unexpectedly light, which is an indication of skill in the kitchen.
My companion had the 8oz Certified Angus Filet, and it was superb.
I had the Shrimp & Grits, which, if you’ve read our review of Boure, you’ll know is one of our tests of a kitchen’s skill. In that review, we note that “shrimp and grits is a dish that immediately reveals whether or not a kitchen can execute above a level that’s merely average,” and we’re happy to report that Commodore Bob’s is executing at a level well above that.
To begin with, the shrimp seemed fresh, not frozen. We’re not 100% sure, and we didn’t ask, and it’s certainly possible for high-quality frozen shrimp, when handled correctly, to be nearly indistinguishable from fresh, but their texture and flavor, while they didn’t blow us away, were not the bland, flabby specimens so common at restaurants this far from the Gulf Coast.
While we generally prefer a simple white-wine-and-butter sauce (preferably with an almost-undetectable hint of Worcestershire), the cream sauce in this interpretation was well executed: Rich and flavorful, but not too heavy or cloying. Also, the grits were not the standard ground corn, but rice grits — whole grains of rice milled to the size of stone-ground grits. Normally we would furrow our brow over this, but the departure is not so radical as to be contemptuous of the tradition, and the result straddled the earthy characteristics of corn grits and the more refined texture of risotto. It was a delicious dish, and showcased the kitchen’s ability to put a creative twist on a traditional dish, and do it with finesse.
The dish is served with a small crab cake on the side. We thought it was unremarkable, and we wondered what might have been a better replacement, but keep in mind that when it comes to crab cakes we’re of a singular mind, and it’s pretty strict. Basically it comes down to this: They should be made with fresh jumbo lump only (no plain lump, and for the love of all that’s holy, not claw meat), as little filler as possible to hold it together while cooking, and a size approaching that of a baseball. This means, of course, that they demand to be center-stage, not a sideshow, so our recommendation here would be to ditch the crab cake, and come up with something that better fits the shrimp & grits motif, either by being a more coherent part of the dish, or standing out as a clever and whimsical contrast, something like a “folly” in architecture. The crab cake didn’t do either, but this is clearly a talented and innovative kitchen, so we have faith they can come up with something better.
As the photo below attests, shrimp & grits is a hard dish to make photogenic (this is the best we’ve been able to do at home, and this appears to be Commodore Bob’s best effort), but the proof is in the taste, and this as good an example as we’ve found outside the culinary temples of New Orleans:
By the way, many of the sausages featured in Commodore Bob’s dishes are handmade, and in the case of the shrimp & grits, they’re applied perfectly, as accents to the dish’s flavor profile, and don’t overpower the otherwise delicate flavors of the shrimp and the cream sauce.
The menu encourages diners to “ask about our Vegan Steak option,” but we can assure you we will not.
SERVICE: 8.7
The style of service at Commodore Bob’s is a little cavalier for the price point of things like entrees and select bourbons, but it’s in keeping with the slightly tongue-in-cheek spirit of the place that’s indicated by its name. This is not a prissy place, and the service reflects that. That it to say, the waitstaff isn’t going to win any fashion awards, or be invited to cotillion, but the test for places like this is how well they do on the myriad of small tasks that constitute a typical service in a multi-course meal that can easily top $100 per head. Do servers place the correct entree in front of each diner, as opposed to “auctioning” them (“who had the chicken?”)? Are water glasses refilled before they go dry? Are diners asked if they want another glass of wine before their current one is empty? Are small favors like a new napkin or a replacement for a dropped utensil delivered promptly? Are minor modifications for things like allergies and arbitrary preferences accommodated with a smile? Do things show up in the right order (drinks before appetizers, wine with the meal, etc.)? Is the check delivered at just the right time — not so early as to make a party feel rushed, but not so late as to be annoying?
Commodore Bob’s has, so far, delivered on all of these points, although we have noted a difference between sitting at a table vs. sitting at the bar. At a table, you’re usually going to get one server who’s dedicated to your table. Like most restaurants, even ones that get high marks in service, this can occasionally result in an overloaded server getting a few small things wrong. At the bar, we’ve noticed that the service tends to be a little better overall, but it’s because you’re basically part of a thoroughfare trafficked by the host, the owners, and the kitchen staff — they’re constantly moving past you, and always glancing up and down the bar to see if anyone needs anything, so you’re just as likely to have your water glass refilled by the owner as you are to have your appetizers and entrees delivered by two different servers. This is not to say the service is worse at the bar; it has the feel of sitting at a table inside a restaurant kitchen of the type pioneered by Charlie Trotter’s in Chicago, so just be aware if you’re seated there that it’s more of an ad-hoc experience than if you were at a table.
OVERALL: 8.5
As of this review, Commodore Bob’s is definitely in the running for best-of-class restaurant in Starkville. What we like is that the menu walks right down the middle of a line with reliable comfort food on one side, and eclectic and slightly experimental on the other. We haven’t yet, for example, seen a dish that failed because the chef was trying to be too cute or avant-garde. We also like the depth of the wine and spirits selections, and the obvious enthusiasm and thought put into them.