Rustic (adj.): 1. of or relating to the countryside.; rural. 2. constructed or made in a plain and simple fashion, in particular.
If you’re in Anchorage, get out.
If, for some madness, you’re intent on staying here, then you’ve probably not heard of the Rustic Goat. It’s built on one of the worst locations in the city for a restaurant of its caliber. Understand me now, when I say ‘worst location’, I don’t mean that the west-side of Anchorage is the worst area in the city to be, socialize, or live; I do mean to say it’s, um, humbly placed. (Terrible parking? Check.) Consider it invisible to the untrained eye. I just happened to find it on an alternative stroll to church one weekend. (Thank you, Jesus.) Location aside, let’s get down to it. There really is something about a new modernized building with massive windows, flavored a west-coast-hipster sandy-russet (partly constructed from some of the century-old lumber from a demolished cannery out in Kenai; pictures of which can be seen on the walls of the restaurant) finished with a dominating metallic logo above the windows. All caps. I spent the first weeks of its construction wondering what it was, and why it reminded me of a Kaladi Brothers Cafe. OH! Because it’s owned by Kaladi Brothers Coffee Company. Makes too much sense. Of course, all of the aforementioned things appeal to us Alaskans, us pseudo-west coasters. (Throw a W up for the homies.)
Thanks to our friends Bryan and Jana Haugsted for suggesting having post-church lunch there and inviting us there. It took about fourteen hours to get our meals (time goes so much slower when one is hungry), and surprisingly, that’s acceptable. One has to consider just how fresh the food may or may not be. Not to mention, this restaurant is fresh out of the womb, still learning how to breathe, how to crawl, and find its core audience. As expected, the drinks came on time. The water was, well, Alaskan: you’ll never find a better glass anywhere else in the state, and it takes extra effort to screw that up. Allie’s Dr. Pepper was a tad flat on arrival. Bryan’s Kassik Roughneck Stout (he let me try it) was smooth as can be expected, with a nice, chocolatey finish. My lemonade, highly presentable; decent and tastier with each additional sip. Free refills, I’m all about that. But dude. Let me tell you, I’ve never had a better chicken sandwich. Chicken, bacon, avocado, on a fresh roll straight out of Fire Island Rustic Bakeshop’s ovens (there’s that word rustic again…coincidence?) atop of fresh fries. Jana had about the most delicious looking bowl of tomato bisque I’ve ever laid my big eyes on. As for Allie’s House Burger? Just look at this thing.
I have three words for you: you need to go to this restaurant as soon as you can. If you trust our opinion, then trust us not to give this restaurant some sort of rating on a scale. Nor am I going to go through the entire menu (which did include fresh pizza…so you know I’ll be back!) Just trust us to go and enjoy the food, beer, and beautiful wood construction. Please go support this establishment. Facebutt, Instacrap, I don’t care how you do it. Just get the word out (not that these guys aren’t doing just fine by themselves!). Knack approved.
Because we matter.