OTT: Modernized French cuisine exclaims, ‘Égalité!’

SUMMIT
Rating: 5/5
19 Lake Circle
www.broadmoor.com/dining/summit/
(719) 577-5896
Hours: Tues-Sun: 5–9:30pm; Mon: Closed
Prices: $20-$47
What you need to know: Seasonal and markedly fresh French cuisine with a superb wine selection

“Liberté! Égalité! Fraternité!,” rang the Revolution’s call. While the tripartite motto would not be institutionalized until the late 19th century Third Republic, the passionate cry for equality was soon mirrored in the country’s gastronomic revolution.

The modern restaurant was invented amongst its liberated citizens. Modern cuisine was birthed from its fertile flora and fauna. Even the Stars and Stripes owe a debt to its longtime ally for indirectly reorienting the trajectory of American’s midcentury infatuation with convenient cuisine. Convenient, French gastronomy may not be, but that’s why we have places like the Summit restaurant.

Summit bills itself as the Broadmoor’s French bistro; yet sources explain that what once was a predominantly French menu has evolved to incorporate more new-American styles and interpretations of the cuisine. This is a good thing, as it sidesteps the not-uncommon tendency, found in some bistros, of stubborn adherence to a tradition of intractably. Instead, Summit continues to evolve with both the seasons and the desires of its guests. French? Yes. But so much more.

A rotating turret of wine bottles crowns the glass wine-room at Summit. With three sommeliers on staff to guide guests, the 2,300 bottles horizontally cradled in rows become a bit more accessible and less like searching for the proverbial needle in the haystack. Choose to put your trust in the expertise of the sommelier, and she will unfalteringly guide you to a selection that will exceed your expectations and likely be priced under the budget you may communicate.

We were guided to two outstanding offerings: a 2014 Burgundy, the Roland Lavanturex Chablis ($16, glass) from sixty year-old vines (known as vieilles vignes), with its subtly effervescent minerality and sea-breeze aromas of deep florals; and a Priorat from Scala Dei vineyards, their 2014 Grenache ($13, glass), or Garnatxa, as they say in Catalonia, with its red-berry tangy acidity, and nose reminiscent of the cellars in Porto.

Summit can be lauded for its attention to seasonality and freshness. Half of the menu transforms with the changing of the seasons, such as the soft shell crab that had been airlifted from Maryland; and dishes are embellished with produce grown in the neighboring Broadmoor gardens. In true, service-first, Broadmoor form, asking for additional tarragon to accompany a substantial fillet of butter-poached cod ($33) resulted in a generous serving of not only tarragon, but micro-basil, too, lending its anise-esque herbaceousness.

Gracing the impeccably prepared, milky-white cod was Romesco—a roasted red pepper and almond sauce first created by Catalonian fishermen to accompany their catch. The addition of fresh tarragon with every bite elevated the beautifully simple into the exquisite.

Nearly half of the entrées during a recent dinner were offerings of the sea. The thought of augmenting the cod with an additional entrée of yet another saltwater dweller seemed, at first, a redundancy. However, upon the waitstaff’s encouragement, the halibut ($32), hailing from Nova Scotia and roasted with seasonings, proved an excellent contrast to the mild and flaky cod. Where the cod was a testament to the beauty of what an unadulterated fillet can be, the halibut was, relatively speaking, a cut of steak—meaty, and packed with the flavor of the grill. The addition of the halibut’s cheeks—with their scallop like tenderness—and a rosemary/garlic pesto, presented over a bed of chickpea puree, coalesced into a punchy and compelling set of flavors that proved pure harmony with the Chablis.

Not all was fish, for what preceded was a savory-sweet, foie gras crème brûlée ($19) that would prove excellent training-wheels for anyone interested in delving into this controversial foodstuff (geese are not pampered in the production of foie gras). Melted down and cut with cream, prior to being topped with sugar and torched in the classic brûlée style, the foie gras itself was quite mild and accessible, making the dish as a whole gently sweet and rich, and a perfect companion of the inspired topping of bing cherry compote.

When in France, eat French food, especially crème brûlée. And we did, again, for dessert. This time the classical rendition ($9), with its hint of English lavender and delightfully thick, brûlée crust. A woman diner could be overheard exclaiming, “Oh yes! I love crème brûlée, so much!” We were in enthusiastic agreement.

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