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Washington Post

The Voltaggio brothers deliver steak and sizzle in a divine space

In decades of cooking, brothers Bryan and Michael Voltaggio have managed to open six restaurants together, this despite the fact that they're based on opposite coasts: Bryan in Frederick, Maryland, and Michael in Los Angeles. Their latest project, Wye Oak Tavern, opened in December in the siblings' hometown. Practice, practice, practice got them to what might be their best restaurant yet. Wye Oak Tavern, ensconced in the Visitation Hotel in Frederick, is definitely their most divine. The lofty main dining room is decorated with an organ on the top floor, while the bar is flanked by statues of two angels, bowing before a life-size painting set in a gold frame. 'The Presentation in the Temple' depicts a young Jesus being introduced to St. Simeon. (Forgive me if I say the scene has mass appeal.) The good bones of a former convent and Catholic girls' school explain the design, which was tweaked to include references to the country's largest white oak tree in Talbot County until the demise of the 'quiet giant' in 2002. The owners of the hotel asked for a steakhouse. The Voltaggios — Bryan is 48 and Michael two years younger — expanded on the request with seafood and some iconic regional dishes. The result is a menu that tastes both traditional and modern, and an experience that blends small-town charm with big-city ambitions. At Wye Oak Tavern, pot roast with carrots gets the same TLC as a shrimp-and-grits cocktail. (You read that right, and stick with me.) The appetizers suggest the brothers had a blast dreaming them up. Chicken liver paté takes the shape of a drumstick, thanks to a mold Michael found online. The smooth, cognac-spiked spread is breaded with cornflakes, which make it look like fried chicken, and the accompaniments are card-size 'waffles' fashioned from local sourdough milk bread pressed in a waffle iron. Cute, cute, cute. Coddies — Baltimore's preferred way of eating cod and potatoes — taste regal but present playful. The snack is fried in tempura and crushed saltines, skewered with a Popsicle stick and brighter thanks to a turmeric-laced giardiniera. That white dollop atop the fritter is tartar sauce coaxed from cauliflower. I like the crab cake, formed from pasteurized local crab until April brings fresh, but the reimagined shrimp cocktail steals the show. The shrimp, dusted with the expected Old Bay spice, arrive with squares of shrimp toast fashioned from shrimp paste and grits, fried and freckled with sesame seeds. The zingy cocktail sauce is green with tomatillo. Trust me. A shrimp-and-grits cocktail is more entertaining than straight seafood, no matter how sweet and plump. Bored with beet salads? The tavern's contribution stifles yawns. Sliced roasted beets are lightly crisp with pastrami spices, arranged on Thousand Island dressing and festooned with savory, caraway-touched twigs of funnel cake that prompt memories of fairs. The salad is equal parts fine and fun. Among the chefs' shared restaurants is Voltaggio Brothers Steak House at MGM National Harbor, their debut joint effort and a precursor of future fun times. Wye Oak Tavern sources good beef, which you want to order with some potatoes (mashed are superior to fried); creamed spinach that's rich but still lets the vegetable shine; and (be still my heart) tiger sauce. The condiment — which marries mayonnaise and horseradish and gives lift to pit beef — is another shout-out to Baltimore and made modern with brown and orange stripes of balsamic-Worcestershire sauce and paprika and turmeric oil, respectively. Anything tiger sauce touches is made more exciting. After an initial taste, my posse applied it to just about everything but drinks and dessert. Prime rib is everything a fan wants it to be: thick cut, crusted in garlic and mustard, blushing red like it just heard a blue joke. The accompanying cheddar cheese popover was DOA — deflated on arrival — but its collapse didn't lesson its flavor or ability to sop. Pot roast is a surprise for the way it tastes like Mom's if Mom had gone to Le Cordon Bleu. The components are prepared separately, so that the beef and carrots cook for their optimum times, before reuniting on the platter with tomato gravy and meat juices. 'Perfect,' said a cooking teacher at my table. The rest of us, our mouths full, could only nod in agreement. Look to the water here, too. Rockfish is crisped on one side and bookended in its pan with two perfect golden hush puppies. A faint crackle gives way to an uncommonly fluffy center. Dredge a bite into the pan juices and let it sponge a broth that tastes of the sea and tomato. Juicy swordfish piccata is almost as good. What's to stop capers, lemon, fried sage and butter from throwing a party for every bite? Then there's a pork chop: thick, juicy, well-seasoned and subtly smoky, accompanied with grits made with heirloom Jimmy Red corn and topped with cheddar cheese foam. We polished off the chop but left the à la carte broccoli behind because it arrived cool. (The kitchen is a floor below; servers ferry food via stairs. Tip appropriately, but also because they know their stuff.) Set off with dividers that resemble confessional screens, marble tables and tufted blue banquettes cocreate an upscale tavern. The capacious main dining room is livelier than seating in the rear, although the back walls benefit from tranquil, green-tinted wallpaper that depicts woods reflected into water. Locals, or those who ate here when it was a school, might delight in seeing apple dumplings for dessert. The confection, updated with a custard flavored like cinnamon toast, made occasional appearances on the menu at the onetime Visitation Academy of Frederick. A fool for lemon meringue pie, I was charmed by the vivid DIY version whipped up by the Voltaggios. The sunny lemon shapes on the plate split to reveal tangy curd, a lovely contrast to the nearby tufts of torched meringue and scoops of creamy coconut ice cream. A coconut crumble keeps the beauty from shifting. In contrast, tres leches cake is stolid. Young as the restaurant is, Wye Oak is consistent, a detail aided and abetted by executive chef Zach Long, 39, who has worked with the Voltaggios for about six years, at projects including their steakhouse in National Harbor, the late Aggio in Baltimore and the onetime Family Meal in Ashburn. 'We finish each other's sentences' and ideas, he says. The novelties from the kitchen extend to the bar, which makes, among other good drinks, an intriguing martini infused with carrots, espelette pepper and celery bitters. In-the-know cooks will understand why the cocktail goes by 'Mirepoix.' Michael says he used to feel his hometown was 'off limits to me, Bryan's market,' asking himself, 'How do I fit in if I live in L.A.?' The truth is, work obligations sometimes find Michael on the East Coast and Bryan on the West, and the brothers are older and wiser now. Wye Oak Tavern, says the younger Voltaggio, is 'us sharing our story through the restaurant.' It's a terrific tale. 211 E. Church St., Frederick. 240-931-1120. Open 4 p.m. to 10 p.m. daily. Prices: Appetizers $17 to $79 (for a sampler of three seafood appetizers), main courses $21 to $89 (for 16 ounces of prime dry-aged steak). Sound check: 77 decibels/Must speak with raised voice. Accessibility: An outdoor hotel elevator can take diners from the parking lot to the main dining room; restrooms are ADA-compliant.