One North brings elevated fare and ambience to former Reno’s West

A few months ago, I attended a Women Lawyers Association of Michigan networking event at One North Kitchen & Bar. I hadn’t been there in years, since well before it transitioned from Reno’s sports bar, and I was eager to see what it was all about. My first thought was that the interior is completely different, and it’s beautiful. One North has sprawling patios, big windows that let natural light in and several corner booths that you can nestle into for a quiet(er) meal. I was immediately interested in trying as many menu items as possible. 

But, because this summer was busier than I wanted it to be between T-ball games, trying to spend as much time at the pool as possible and an unexpectedly but blissfully extended family vacation, it wasn’t until many weeks later that Mr. She Ate and I were able to make a dinner visit. Our son was on his annual camping trip with my dad, his wife, my siblings and their families. We were tickled to have alone time with our daughter, who doesn’t get much of it. 

We started with the loaded tots ($12.25), which, as the menu claims, were house-made. Unfortunately, the insides of the tots were devoid of flavor. They would have benefited from an infusion of garlic, paprika, salt or virtually any other savory spice in the kitchen.

I quickly moved on to the One North grilled cheese ($10.25) and had much better luck with this. I love a grilled cheese, especially one that’s a little different than the standard version. When I read that this one included tomato jam, I was sold, and you should be, too. The four-cheese blend was set off by the sweet and spicy jam, which had me wondering why I don’t make my own tomato jam and start hammering out grilled cheeses daily. (The answer is because of the abovementioned inappropriately busy schedule, and because One North is already doing this, so I don’t need to do it myself.)

My sandwich came with fries. They were unremarkable. Mr. She Ate tried the barbecue chicken pizza ($18.50), a dish he’s loved for a long time but I’ve never been able to support. The combination of flavors just doesn’t make sense to me. Nonetheless, he enjoyed the pizza, although the crust was a bit too crispy to have been eaten without a word of caution. 

Our tiny wild woman had the kids’ pasta with red sauce ($6), which was frankly a better-tasting red sauce than she’s ever had. Who knows what our son ate that night on his camping trip? I assume twigs and raccoon kabobs, but I haven’t been camping since I was forced to sleep in a tent as a child. 

We finished the meal with a slice of One North’s homemade cheesecake ($8.50). I’ve always loved plain cheesecake, preferring the creamy confection to stand on its own without a fruit topping. I had high hopes for this one after our server sang its praises, but this might have been the biggest disappointment of the meal. It tasted like pure nothing. Cheesecake is one of those things, like mac and cheese, that I suspect people are tricked into thinking is delicious because it looks like it should be. This was no exception. It was beautiful, but if you closed your eyes and conducted a search for flavor, you’d find none. 

I later met a colleague for lunch, and while I hate to default to things that are comfortable to order, there wasn’t much more on the menu that I was dying to try. I chose the 1N Michigan salad ($8.25/half, $12.50/full), which was a fairly traditional mix of spring greens, dried cherries, thinly sliced green apples, blue cheese crumbles, bacon and walnuts. I asked for mine with grilled chicken, which was forgotten and was later delivered to me in a coffee cup on a saucer. The salad, like Mr. She Ate’s pizza, was fine. It wasn’t special, and it wasn’t even my favorite salad on the stretch of Saginaw Highway that includes ChouPli, Cheddar’s and Chick-fil-A. (I know Chick-fil-A is problematic, but its salads are dang good, and I atone in political contributions.)

My colleague chose a cheeseburger, which looked and smelled the part but remained unfinished on her plate. Uninspired, I returned to my office and continued to stream Olympic swimming, my afternoon finally given flavor by the commentating of Rowdy Gaines, an American treasure. Is anyone else still recovering from a bout of Olympic fever?