The Wild Fork, Tulsa, Okla.

Tulsa was a mess Saturday. It was the time of the annual Tulsa Run, so the downtown and Brookside streets were all in various states of closure to accommodate the crowds of runners and spectators, much the same as D.C. is today with the Marine Corps Marathon (and why I stayed home from church this morning). That notwithstanding, amidst all the mess and uncertainty, my parents drove me to Tulsa yesterday morning and dropped me off at Tony's apartment so he and I could be social and go eat before I flew home to Washington. There were several places Tony and I wanted to go for brunch, but we couldn't get through the police lines and the runners. We did, eventually, make it to the Palace Cafe over on Cherry Street, one of my very favorite places in Tulsa, but they were closed for brunch, and not planning to open until 5 p.m. Alas. Then we tried to make it down to the plethora of restaurants (including several new ones) in Brookside, but the main street going through Brookside was part of the run route, so that precluded that idea.

So, we ended up in the once-exclusive shopping center Utica Square at The Wild Fork by default. Tony likes the place a lot (largely, I think, because his sister works there), my cousin goes there a bunch, and it was the site of important events in Ryan's life (I think the last time he and I went in early 2004 was the last time I ate there), but I've always been rather lukewarm to the place. I should probably be more tolerant of the establishment, since a women who went to elementary school with me, owns and runs the place in conjunction with the oil company that owns Utica Square and others, but my early experiences there always left something to be desired.

In fact, about a decade ago when I was writing professional restaurant reviews for a Tulsa newspaper, I expressed on the first anniversary of the restaurant my complete surprise that they were still open and in business. You see, when they first opened, it was at the height of that awful "world fusion" phase of culinary endeavor, and the young women running the place didn't have the flair to pull off fusion. I had meals there where wonderful ingredients had been well prepared, but then combined into hideous food abominations that I found very depressing. I always thought that they were trying too hard to be too creative. Somehow, though, they had the oil company's money behind them, and that got them through those difficult early years until we grew out of that fusion fad and the menus metamorphosized into something more appropriate for Tulsa tastes. They've continued to evolve to the point that I would now describe the food as upscale Oklahoman and contemporary American.

So, I acquiesced to the Wild Fork, not expecting much. The food was actually much better than I anticipated. The prices remain very expensive for Tulsa, though no longer shocking to me after my D.C. tenure. The service is still very, very slow—that much hasn't changed. They aren't as snooty as they used to be, though.

Even though the place was busy both inside and out, we immediately got a table, since they had a two-top in the middle dining room (the people standing in line were in larger groups). I was immediately struck by the art in this room. Now, for years when this place first opened, they were just as noted for their unusual art as they were for their unusual food. One dining room had an entire wall of identically shaped female torso molds that had each been differently and fantastically painted. Well, what was it that struck my eye on this visit? Paintings. Large, over-sized canvases, a series specially commissioned by the Wild Fork, each depicting.....semi-trailer trucks.



We started off ordering bloody Marys. Tony was very much in need of some hair-of-the-dog. It took forever for them to arrive, and the refills took even longer! The official excuse on the refills, though, was that they had to make more bloody mix. The drinks were okay. They didn't poor heavily and they forgot that bloodies are supposed to have celery sticks and no olives, but otherwise they were drinkable.

All the waiting time, though, gave us plenty of time to talk business. Tony is a production editor for an oil and gas industry publishing house, and one of my specialty areas when I do copy editing and proofreading is petroleum engineering textbooks and petroleum industry trade publications.

And, Tony, who was the one who introduced me to Kody years ago, did his own Kody Pose™ with his bloody Mary!



Finally, the food arrived. Tony had the Atlantic salmon frittata, a big, plate-sized item some of which he had to take home in a doggy bag. It appeared to include potatoes, tomatoes, green onions, and Italian cheese, and a biscuit and gravy came on the side. He obviously liked it, since he chose to take the leftovers home (though I suspect that he has ordered that before!).


I had two scrambled eggs with chicken-fried steak, cheese grits, and a biscuit and gravy, and this is where I was so unexpectedly, pleasantly surprised with the evolution of the food. The grits were dreamy—smooth, velvety, rich, redolent with cheese, and wonderfully good. The gravy was flavorful, creamy, and very well seasoned. And, the steak was fork-tender and covered in a very nice, well balanced and spiced, breading that was light yet perfect for the dish. They used the same gravy on the steak as for the biscuits.


After the meal, Tony had coffee.

So, I made it through my Wild Fork dining experience, but it went well enough that I won't mind having to eat there again in the future. And, if Tony can get recipes from his sister, I'll be especially happy.