The first time we went to Granville Moore’s, it took us three tries to find the entrance. We knew the address, we had the address, we held the address in our hands. But on the cast iron stoop where 1238 H St. NE was supposed to be, in spitting distance of Palace of Wonders and Horace & Dickey’s old-school fried fish shop, there was a skinny man snoring, his legs splayed across the steps. We walked past him three times before asking for advice at the restaurant next door.

“Oh yeah, that’s it, right next door,” she said. “Just ask him to step aside.” We asked, he shifted, and we entered a magical, rough-hewn wonderland.

One that’s since been discovered, and more.

Granville Moore’s is named after an African-American doctor who worked at this site for many years. In fact, Moore is still listed – at the restaurant’s address – as a general practitioner at wellness.com. Moore deserves the recognition: For years, he provided health care for all comers in a neighborhood that saw its share of bright and cloudy days.

The gastro-pub has an edgy, scrappy appeal. Originally, the restaurant felt more like a traditional pub, focused almost entirely around a bar that features a small variety of wines, a full roster of the basics, and an expansive list of Belgian ales, wheat beers, stouts and saisons. Those saisons – a category of Belgian farmhouse ales – come in oversized bottles with the feel of an earthier mulled wine. Take the Saison Du Pipaix, a $19 oversized bottle of beer that the menu describes as peppery. I won’t go as far as “peppery,” but I will say it’s fantastic – light but rustic, like a sun-heated French field.

It’s a standout among Moore’s list. There’s also the ubiquitous Hoegaarden, Stella and Delerium Tremens (all nice beers on their own merits but not extraordinary) alongside a broad variety of color-coded Chimays, a Kwak Amber, a bracing Quintine Hercule stout and the striking (for the ambitious tongue) Duchesse De Bourgogne.

Granville Moore’s has a slightly European war-torn farmhouse feel. Sitting at a table with a bottle of Gouden Carolus Ambrio or Petrus Blonde and a flickering candle against the distressed concrete and brick wall, it’s easy to feel transported to some exhausted but well-earned retreat. As for that candle, keep it close. Granville Moore’s is dark.

The atmosphere mixes easy comfort with hipster accoutrements. The music ranges from quirky hits from the last 50 years (“Who Wrote the Book of Love”) to trippy warblers. There’s a bit of the dive about it, but only of the best dives. Knowing the history of Moore’s service to the community gives the place a nice lift.

It used to be, Granville Moore’s was all about the beer, but they’re definitely upping the ante regarding food as well. In February, Moore’s was on their third menu since they opened, and to be honest, I miss something of the older, scrappier version. That short list included the mussels that still sparkle on today’s menu but also included European staples like Croque Monsieur and Madame and a sausage sandwich that brought me back to some mythical, Old Country olden days.

Chef Teddy Folkman, a veteran of the Reef, Evening Star and Clyde’s, explains the “missing” Croque Madame this way: “I like local, farm-to-table food, and I like to keep things fresh. Sometimes if I realize something is a customer favorite, I’ll rotate it out for a while, just to get people trying something new.” Maybe we’ll see some old favorites return when the mood is right.

But the mussels (Moules) aren’t going anywhere and deservingly hold center stage in heavy, creamy white bowls wafting flavors as diverse as a classic white wine with herbs and walnut-arugula pesto. I advise making a bold grab for the Italian sausage, peppers, onions and Dijon mustard version (Moules Saucisson, which Folkman calls “mussels for people who are afraid of mussels”). It has snap and energy and arrives at the table amid a heady cloud of spicy steam. My favorite: probably the Moules Fromage Blue, or Mussels with Blue Cheese and Bacon. It’s not the most obvious mix of flavors, but after tasting this concoction, you’ll agree that the mussels’ briny depth has been yearning for blue cheese, nutty bacon, and a sauce of shallots, spinach and white wine. The spinach leaves stand tall, the bacon is farm-cut thick, and the blue cheese crumbles hold their crumbly, uneven shape – but the flavors, while gentler than you might expect, are wintry and complex. And the sauce down there at the bottom of the bowl is divine.

Although the mussels don’t automatically arrive with Granville Moore’s signature twice-fried frites, I’ve yet to see a diner with mussels on the table without the accompanying fries. While not the most distinctive of DC's new batch of gourmet crispies (deep-fried, twice-fried, thrice-fried), these fries get it right. They are crisp yet pillowy, dashed lightly with heavy salt and a smattering of herbs.

Much like fancy fries, a diversity of sauces has become a kind of staple on the upscale comfort foot circuit, but Granville Moore’s hits a few high notes. In particular, a sweet-spicy curry-mango sauce arrives at the table red and thick like catsup but tartly cured like a yogurt/tamarind snack. The dijonaisse was just a slightly less spiky mustard but delicious, and the garlic ranch was, well, garlic ranch. As one friend commented of another flavor, “The Horseradish Crême makes me want to touch myself.”

Moore’ servers, at least in my experience, run the gamut from friendly and solid to gorgeously knowledgeable and flawlessly nonchalant. Oh, there’s also the enthusiastic bumbler or two (the kind who compose veritable poems to each beer) who loves what he’s doing but can’t seem to coordinate hands and feet, much less a table of orders from hungry diners on a busy night. And many nights are busy. Get there by 7 p.m. if you want to avoid a wait.

To accompany our sauces and fries, we gave in and had a few sandwiches – a good-but-not-spectacular Poulet et Prosciutto (chicken and prosciutto) with gruyere cheese and the dijonaisse sauce, a solid Bison Burger, and a near-perfect Steak et Fromage. Yup, here in Belgium-in-Northeast, the best sandwich was a new take on the Steak and Cheese. Granville Moore’s burger was both lean and juicy on its bun. It was also cooked, as requested, a perfect medium with only the faintest blush of pink at the center to preserve the meat’s inherent juiciness without provoking a bloody gasp.

Folkman – who calls his kitchen staff, including Sous Chef Stephen Chapman, “my heart and soul” – tells a story about the bison that keeps his nice-guy image intact. He likes the bison “because beef is so environmentally damaging while bison are land-feeders, meaning they live more lightly on the land. He gets his bison from New Frontier Bison in Madison, Va. It’s an old family relationship, and one he trusts.

The Steak et Fromage proved the value of bison impeccably. Where the meat on traditional steak & cheese sandwiches is a mix of fat and gray gristle, the bison holds its texture and flavor, and gives a perfect latticework for the plentiful cheddar cheese. Sautéed onions deepen, and horseradish sauce lift, the flavors so that each bite offers something new. Moore’s also offers true entrees – crab cakes, fish of the day and a fantastically moist and delicious Bison Hanger steak.

I should add a quick disclaimer here: I’m hesitant to promise too many specifics, because Granville Moore’s does seem to have a playful determination not to be too narrowly defined. “Gastropub. Belgian. Moules et Frites.” That’s all you really need to know.

Some specials, however, are too rich to pass up mentioning. Happy hour runs from 5:30-7 p.m. Monday through Friday, and there are beer and food specials most weeknights as well. The upstairs bar has a knotty wood-ridged edge that adds to the grungy-authentic feel, and Mondays have been colonized by Gallaudet students, giving the bar a welcome, slightly quieter feel. Moore’s will be starting a pre-theater meal – small frites, moules and a brownie for twenty bucks. There is a sense of fun and spontaneity running through.

Months after that first visit, Granville Moore’s thrives, H Street continues to shrink and expand, and ever-growing crowds of foodies and urban explorers discover a newish destination in DC.

Alex MacLennan is a local writer and editor. His first novel, “The Zookeeper,” was published May 2006.

Granville Moore’s
1238 H St. NE
202-399-2546
www.granvillemoores.com
Mon.-Thu., 6-10 p.m.
Fri.-Sat., 6-11 p.m.
Sunday 5:30-10 p.m.