Inner Southeast, between Grand and 12th, is a dingy but
optimistic little neighborhood, holding its breath as tentacles of
affluence from downtown and wealthier neighborhoods to the east make
tentative inroads. East Morrison boasts a handful of new
establishments, from the plush, pirate-themed Maiden in the Mist to the
lunch-oriented Nu Café to the Morrison Hotel, the latest venture
from the owners of the Blue Monk. And while this area is still
relatively slow, when the old Grand Central Bowl opens its doors again
(with Concept Entertainment as the building’s owner, promising a bar
and bowling lanes), it’s sure to herald a new era of downtown revelers
sloshing over the river and up the grittier banks of Southeast.
The Morrison Hotel is well poised in this milieu to appeal both to
residents of the neighborhood, and invading hordes looking to make a
new scene.
The bar’s name and the design of the sign are lifted from the Doors
album of the same name—though as far as I can tell, that’s where
the Jim Morrison references begin and end. The interior is divided into
a bar side, dominated by an open kitchen and long redwood bar, and a
much larger dining area, all decorated in dark green and black. The
clubby bar side feels like a classy sports bar, or an upscale bar
rendered a touch déclassé by a big flat screen—it’s
more welcoming than the high-ceilinged dining area, which still looks,
as my dining companion noted one night, as though it needs a few more
months to settle into itself.
The Morrison’s main talking point is their lengthy beer list,
boasting over 80 bottles that cover both the familiar (Full Sail,
Alaskan, Pete’s, Terminal Gravity) and the esoteric (a selection of
imports ranging from the award-winning Duchesse de Bourgogne, a Flemish
red ale, to Poland’s sweet and potent Black Boss Porter). There’s also
a full bar, though the one time I ordered a house cocktail (an
off-kilter combo of tequila, Campari, and canned grapefruit juice), it
was hard to finish, and I felt subtly chastised for ordering a girly
drink in a place with such an off-the-hook beer selection.
The food menu is inspired by Mediterranean street food, and changes
frequently—think gyros, meat skewers, and marinated veggies.
Everything I tried was quite good, filling and well executed, from the
lamb gyros, served with a vinegary side of mixed peppers and tomatoes,
to a bowl of prawns swimming in tomato and oregano, with plenty of
bread for sopping up the sauce.
A simple sandwich of jamón serrano with manchego and quince
paste (read: fancy ham and cheese sandwich), on a crispy toasted
baguette, was my favorite dish, a little salty, a little sweet.
Unfortunately, even when the Mercury is paying for my dinner, I
can’t quite silence the nagging little interior Voice of Financial
Insecurity: Nine dollars is a lot to pay for a sandwich, even a fancy
and delicious one. The primary gripe I’ve heard about this place is
that the food is too expensive—a few smaller, cheaper options,
catering to the drinking (rather than dining) crowd, would go a long
way. Otherwise, though, it’s hard not to get behind the Morrison Hotel:
They’ve gamely positioned themselves in an area that’s sure to take off
eventually, and I’m prepared to do my part to keep them around, one
bottle of Belgian beer at a time.