Block: Kitchen and Bar (that’s how it’s phrased) has a novelty wine rack where bottles poke out of the wall. The light fixtures are either copper bowls or wireframe models of wormholes (at least I think). The name of the restaurant in branded into the serving boards. The drinks menu is glued to a slab of wood. The menu sits on a podium at the entrance. To put it simply, Block is cool, but in that annoying, trendy cool, the kind you both love and hate. The kind you like to hang around with and glean some attention from, but when away, begin to loathe and begrudge. That guy that both plays video games and goes to the gym. That girl that has a baby and regains her figure inside of a week. I bet the owners all smell like jasmine and say words like “urban” and “rustic” in casual conversation. One of them probably has an epic and perfectly groomed hipster beard.
I’m not heading towards a negative review. I love Block…like I love Samuel L. Jackson or Christopher Walken, amazing actors, though you suspect are probably a little weird. I mean read that description above; it works. The food is absolutely stunning, let’s get that out of the way, but let’s also not deny some of the issues one could find with this restaurant. For one, its bar takes up more real estate than the anything else in the entire establishment. It’s obtrusive the way West Edmonton Mall is. Block’s menu differentiates food by vegetarian, gluten free or vegan…because apparently that has to be a thing now. Block’s website opens with the words “Urban Rustic” (I knew it!), stealing my most common descriptors, though I admit ones that don’t indicate anything about what kind of food to expect.
There’s another issue with the menu. It commits a sin that I admit personally gets my hackles up: it lists appetizers as tapas. For those who need clarification, tapas should be presented as dozens of small offerings at cheap prices, meant to encourage numerous dishes shared among friends. It is not a synonym for “starters”. An 18$ cheese board is not tapas, neither is a $29 charcuterie. Asian lettuce wraps for $14? No. About the only thing that could qualify are the $5 fries (served with sumac and spicy mayo). A restaurant in my hometown committed that same transgression, and the public never let them forget it. Okay, so it’s established, you cannot rename appetizers as tapas unless you wish to invite ridicule.
That pushed aside, what’s left is truly impressive. The menu options, even the ones under the tapas banner, are all tempting. We ended up settling on the 16$ Block burger (Angus beef, pork belly, roasted tomatoes, onion compote, mayo, and smoked cheddar) and the smoked pepper sausage & cheese sandwich (asiago, smoked mozzarella, leafy greens, onion compote, and grainy mustard), both served with the aforementioned side of fries. Although it took a while for our meal to arrive, the delivered wooden planks were topped with two of the best looking and tasting sandwiches I’ve ever had. These are the types of meals reputations are built on.
They can be forgiven for the whole tapas thing; maybe I’m just working out issues. Here’s the thing: there’s a restaurant in my hometown that mimics many of the themes Block succeeds at. Where it differs is that Block’s “urban” and “rustic” ideology didn’t impede my enjoyment of the meal. With our local place, it did—chairs were oddly shaped, the bathrooms were labeled like Picasso-prints—I felt like I had to solve Lemarchand's box each time I ate there (a Hellraiser reference…yeah, no one got it on my review of that place either). Clarification through comparison—Block is a Lancer Evolution with proper ground effects and a stage 2 turbo tune while this local place is a Subaru WRX with an STI body kit and an 80 lbs. metal wing (wow, damning)
The Block is cool in ways that enhanced my experience, like the small reeds tied with a knot rather than large toothpicks to keep sandwiches together. Yes, it’s a tad more expensive than your average lunch, but there’s value with the delivered meal. If I lived in Banff—and seriously, why would I—I could imagine Block being my regular spot. I’d imagine having a reserved stool by the bar where I would enjoy a meal while chatting it up with the owners…because I might, just might, come off a little cooler by just hanging out with them. They’d call me by my first name. I’d ask for a sandwich, and they’d just make me sandwich. I wouldn’t care what was in it. They’d serve me wine and we’d talk about the cool people they had in their establishment that day. They’d introduce me, say I was cool…sigh…dreamy—I-I…mean…sorry.
They got good burgers.
Food: 5/5
Service: 3.5/5
Presentation: 4/5
Value: 4.5/5
Recommendation: 4.5/5
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