There are plenty of debates in the food world that can hurt feelings, turn friends into foes or be the source of endless hours of bickering and nitpicking. Is a hot dog a sandwich? Does pineapple belong on pizza? Is cereal soup? Who has the best Philly?
But hardly any of them are as likely to leave a house divided as gumbo. First, there’s the matter of what goes in it. Then there’s the question of where it first came from. And finally, and most polarizing, is the subject of who makes it best. (The obvious answer being grandma.)
Chef Jeremy Wolgamott makes a good gumbo. So good, in fact, that he’s hardly changed his recipe since his time at the High Hat Cafe in New Orleans. This was back in 2014, when his bowl was named as one of the best gumbos in that city by New Orleans Magazine. His version, with a dark brown base, chicken, andouille sausage and a cool dollop of potato salad, has everything it takes to compete in a town where restaurants are quick to get run out of town for an improper roux.
In 2022, after 14 years of cooking in The Big Easy, Wolgamott returned to Colorado, where he had grown up — and where his then-9-year-old son wouldn’t have to experience his fourth Category 4 hurricane.
As of this April, the chef started serving his gumbo out Olde Town Arvada’s The Grandview Tavern and Grill, 7427 Grandview Ave., which is now serving his full lineup of Southern cooking in a more elevated atmosphere.
“The whole reason I moved back to Colorado was with the intention of opening a Southern restaurant,” said Wolgamott.
While he worked on that, Wolgamott did a stint at Bistro Vendôme, where he acted as chef and facilitated its 2023 move from Larimer Square to its new location in Denver’s Park Hill neighborhood. He eventually left, though, to begin a series of pop-ups under the Restaurant Argot name as he searched for the perfect place to bring his concept to life.
That turned out to be The Grandview, and for anyone who has been there, very little has changed cosmetically since Wolgamott and his team took over. The bones are still basically the same as they were when the place first opened as a bar in the 1950s. The structure itself, which was erected as the Barth Building in 1898, deepens the place’s sense of a swashbuckling prairie saloon. With Tim Smith, a friend of Wolgamottap since college, running the bar, The Grandview feels lived in, the new team etching its own history onto the already hallowed ground.
“I didn’t want to change the name and take away those stories,” said Wolgamott.
But as casual as it is, the vibe has already shifted to reflect Wolgamottap vision. Burgers have been replaced by a menu of Southern staples like a fried chicken sandwich, pimento cheese with country ham, and fried rainbow trout with green rice and pickled peppers. Everything on the evolving list is ingredient-driven and fine-dining-informed. Wolgamott says he hits the farmers market every week to supplement the ingredients he gets from a well-stacked roster of local purveyors he accrued while at Vendôme. “I love doing casual cooking that would fit on a fine dining menu,” he said.
While there are plenty of down-home dishes, the food reflects Wolgamottap refined background. In New Orleans, he worked a six-year run at the High Hat before doing another four years at Coquette, an acclaimed spot that celebrates local products and French and Southern flavors.
The Grandview’s current menu features a coffee-cured, bourbon-braised pork shoulder that comes with a cold succotash of squash, lima beans and corn. Nothing about the elegant plate would be out of place on a white tablecloth. Even so, dishes like fries with pimento cheese and green tomato chow chow, and the black-eyed pea dip keep the place from scaring off the shorts crowd. “For me, the space defines the concept,” said Wolgamott. “I’m trying really hard to keep it a casual neighborhood spot.”
Lots of dishes are undeniably tied to Walgamottap time in NOLA, but the chef hopes to represent cuisine from across the South. “A little of my whole story is reflected here,” said Wolgamott, adding that most of the menu is likely to change, a few items at a time, with the exception of the gumbo and the cornbread.
Though much of the menu reads straightforward, plates still arrive with chefy touches. The fried okra comes sliced thin and fried like potato chips before being drenched in a buttermilk dressing.
“I think there’s a lot of good Southern food in the Denver area, but I’m trying to represent the lighter side of that,” said Wolgamott, noting that he’s actively avoiding using a deep fryer. “The idea was not to force a Southern restaurant into Colorado, but to be a Colorado restaurant that happens to be Southern.”
