Note #1: Reservations are recommended.
Note #2: The dress code is somewhere between casual and formal. Wear a nice pair of jeans and a good shirt or sweater, and you should fit in.
Grand is an apt descriptor for this venerable steakhouse that boasts hotel rooms for weary travelers (no kidding!). There are worse places to be stranded than in humble Fallston, PA, and with quality restaurants such as GVI, Brady's Run Grille, and Cove Diner nearby, you may want to stay an extra day or two.
I had received a Just Buy Half gift card as a birthday present from my mother which research revealed was accepted by GVI along with many other restaurants and businesses. Kay had always been standoffish about GVI due to its prices, but with a 50 buck head start, she caved in and took us out here this past Saturday evening, running errands and visiting her parents along the way.
Grand Valley Inn resembles a suburban home, and the interiors themselves, ornamented with vintage farm tools like saws and foreboding scythes, might as well be a relative's dining room. Sunday dinner is recalled. I almost thought I heard someone ask me or someone else to "pass the salt" or what have you. The Waltons would feel at ease in what would surely be the finest dining to the fictional clan.
*If a feeling of deja-vu takes hold of you while perusing this piece, you're not alone. Chase this review with the one I wrote of Downtown Pittsburgh's Grille On Seventh, the urban cousin GVI never knew it had.
The pageant began with Almond Crusted Goat Cheese that came with pita chips and a small serving of sublime sweet/sour strawberry viniagrette-dressed greens. Fluffy, tart, nutty, and crunchy are words that are invoked when I think back to spreading this warm and warmly admirable stand-in for brie or whipped butter over the hard triangles of pita. As with many a great started, we wanted more.
What may have been the zenith of steaks was brought to my table afterwards. The Filet Oscar features two petite cuts of filet mignon that are topped with lump crabmeat, asparagus, and a bear of a bearnaise sauce. The filets, cooked medium rare (the only way to order burgers or steak anymore), were erotically pink inside, oozed blood and juice profusely when lacerated, and offered no resistance to my canines whatsoever. Never before have I had the pleasure of indulging on such a tender steak. The chunks of sweet crustacean collied with the lightly bitter asparagus rods, the bearnaise sauce was as creamed and flavor-packed as its mother, the hallowed hollandaise. As supreme as this entree was, all that was missing was a poached egg, but that perhaps would have been overly decadent.
Flanking my slabs of bloody, juicy protein was the perfect side to a perfect duo of steaks: a perfect baked potato. Leathery-skinned and feathery on the inside, I applied sour cream to the split, buttered, fuming spud generously, sliced it apart, and partook between bites of beef and crab with utmost pleasure. I was reminded of why french fries are simply too base a side for such an exquisite steak. No, a baked potato must do, but it must be as ideal as this.
Also had in the middle of this feast as a cup of Stuffed Pepper Soup. A cross between chili and a tomato soup, tender grains of rice and ground beef played off of the gravy-thick, tangy, crimson broth. It may be cliche to state this, but cold, winter evenings were seemingly invented to make soups such as these as gratifying and comforting as they are.
Nothing else would have satisfied my sweet, after-supper cravings like the unassumingly-named Flourless Fudge Cake did. A fiendish wedge of shaved nut-riddled chocolate, fresh whipped cream was thankfully piped about the plate to temper the pastry's richness. This was PURE fudge, a candy bar served like a pie, and it was not for those with heart conditions or diabetes. It would put both Wilford Brimley and Bret Michaels into shock with one taste. And if that reads like praise, it is.
Our server Dan was joy to be waited on by and watch in action as he nimbly worked a busy, packed room with preternatural skill, professionalism, and personality.
Grand Valley Inn is not one for the trend-chasers; it is for those who love tradition. Label me an old-fogie if you must for this meal will go down as one of the grandest of all my days. Venture to Fallston and brush up on the standards that built upscale American cuisine as we know it.
"It's class that counts, and it's written all over me."-Buddy Rogers read more