Canyon Grille

The Scene
8 p.m. on weeknights, you can almost have the comfortable, high-ceilinged space to yourself. Even the adjacent four-season screened patio is a relative sanctuary.

Our Take
In contrast to the wasteland of chain restaurants that stretches in every direction as far as the eye can see, three-year-old Canyon Grille offers north suburban diners food prepared from scratch in an independently owned spot. Veteran executive chef Christian Ticarro presides over the kitchen and encourages his sous chefs to experiment. This is reflected in a weekly specials menu that might include ravioli stuffed with duck confit and goat cheese and tossed in truffle butter or veal Wellington stuffed with Boursin and fresh vegetables. The vast majority of dishes are beef or seafood mainstays cooked over a special wood grill fired by Minnesota oak. Cooking temperatures reach 800 to 900 degrees, a level ideal for searing the delicious house specialty: thin-cut spiced prime rib. Still, cooking time has to be precise or the result can be the miserably overdone chunk of ahi tuna we received. In fact, poor quality control was a frequent problem. Not a soul in our group had an interest in the dry, lifeless tequila shrimp cocktail; we sent back an unappetizingly mushy broiled walleye Oscar; and several slices of well-done sautéed pork medallions got pushed around the plate rather than eaten. We felt very well attended to by the relaxed staff, who manifested a palpable enthusiasm. Considering the prices, value is high.

Focus on the Wine
Canyon Grille owners Roy Dodds and Ann Peterson have a passion for wines. They price them just above retail rather than marking them up the standard 300 to 400 percent. The restaurant hosts six annual wine dinners, featuring kitchen stints by some of the area’s top chefs. Most impressive, however, is the climate-controlled glass-walled showcase vault, its mahogany shelves holding 1,500-plus bottles. Also proudly displayed are the three Awards of Excellence from Wine Spectator. Although the award is the lowest of the Spectator’s three levels of commendation, it is recognition of a level of dedication unique in these ’burbs.