Entrée NWA: Legacy Blues

FAYETTEVILLE — There’s a lot to like about Legacy Blues. Unfortunately none of it will be the true legacy, so to speak, of this poorly conceived establishment. On a recent Wednesday, a dinner partner and I encountered a poorly stocked bar, a poorly stocked kitchen, a poorly trained waiter and bad music. So much for its legacy. But the blues seems apt.

Situated on the ground level of the failed Legacy condominium complex behind Dickson Street (near West Avenue), the restaurant/club exudes class and style. It should have been a welcome addition to Fayetteville’s blossoming nighttime fauna. There are high ceilings and high-backed cream-colored booths. And there are low lights, low tones, and some groovy interior touches – including a mirror so large and so wide it rests on the floor like a portal to another world – giving the whole place a dream-like quality.

But even the décor is an illusion interrupted. Legacy Blues lacks the coherence of its contemporary counterparts, wanting to be a chic blues club on the one hand, but on the other, a sports bar, replete with televisions tuned to ESPN and various sports paraphernalia. Other touches make it feel more rock ‘n’ roll. Together it seems like an attempt to be all things to all people with a result of being none of them to anyone.

The menu is scant, and since we’re being picky, incongruous. It features a smattering of ordinary appetizers (this portion of the menu is titled “Opening Act”). There are three choices: the Beale Street Catfish Bites, battered shrimp and Captain Tad’s Sweet Chicken Strips. (Why is the captain selling chicken from the high seas?)

So much for the opening act. What’s the “Second Set” got to offer? Essentially a lunch menu, or lighter entrée options. It incudes a Caesar Salad, a “Blues Brother Burger,” a barbecue sandwich, ribs and a “Bourbon Street Basket” that includes your choice of Captain Tad’s chicken or catfish or shrimp. That’s all.

Finally, the “Main Act!” The featured entrees! Well, you can get steaks. Or an item that is called “Chicken.” And a few fish dishes. The prices of these entrees range from $18 to $35.

And that’s where the blues comes in. For an idea as inspired as the Legacy Blues, it offers a menu that not only lacks imagination but fails to the meet the bar set by its peers in the area. The prices are expansive; the offerings are not. 

First, we order drinks and the debacle begins. My friend asks for Tito vodka, which we just had at the always-interesting 1936 Club. I ask for a J&B Scotch. Seemed safe enough. The waiter returns to say the bar has neither. Ok, no problem. We order something else. I decide to go really safe with a Wild Turkey. Waiter comes back. They don’t have that either. “What do you have?” I ask. He doesn’t know. I inquire about Jim Beam. He’s pretty sure they have Jim Beam. Eventually, he proves it by bringing out the drink.

We weigh the options for an appetizer. We get the catfish bites only because they’re the most interesting of three options on the ‘Opening Act” – and we want nothing to do with a captain’s chicken. The catfish bites come out hot and thick with mildly spiced breading. But they don’t come out with plates. So we eat them right out of the serving dish. It turns out to be the most authentic part of the evening.

The waiter disappears and we listen to a solo act playing the acoustic guitar. This place has blues in the name, but playing on stage is someone who would be a better fit for Sigma Nu. He’s wearing a baseball cap over his shaggy hair. He plays an Elton John song. Later I read online that John Mayer is a major influence. That makes sense. The waiter comes back to take our order. I discover there are no specials.

“We try to keep it real simple,” he says of the menu.

"Mission accomplished," I write in my notebook.

My partner orders ribs. I’m looking for something interesting that I can write about for this review and hit upon an entree called the “South Beach,” which is sweet-potato encrusted “fish of the day” on greens with mango, walnuts and balsamic glaze. Great. “What’s the fish of the day?” I ask. The waiter does not know. But he says he’s sure it’s fresh. I ask how fresh. He says, and this is a direct quote: “Maybe a day old?”

He runs back to the kitchen to ascertain the fish of the yesterday. He comes back. “Ahi,” he says. “Ahi tuna?” asks my friend. His reply is affirmative. Great. I order it. I’m sure fish, like casserole, is better after it sits for awhile.

We’re listening to the man inspired by John Mayer when the waiter comes back to report another problem. There are no ribs. They’re out. I point out to that it’s only 7 p.m. and it’s a Wednesday. He apologizes. My friend settles on the barbecue sandwich.

Our meals arrive. We dive in. The friend is happy with the barbecue. I’m glad to hear it. I’m on my second bite of the “fish of the day,” when I realize this Ahi tuna is white. And that’s not right. I grab a server who happens to be nearby and for the sake of this review, complain. She says the fish of the day is actually mahi mahi. She gets our server. I tell him the unfortunate news. He says, “I’m sorry you misunderstood me.”

I look at my friend; he looks at me. We did not misunderstand him. I tell him just to bring me the Blues Brother Burger, which runs $12. For that price, I figure it’s got to be something special.

The burger came out minutes later, and I was grateful. But he ran off without asking me how I’d like it, which is medium rare. It came back done. Really done. On the side were sweet potato fries that were stiff from being old, overcooked or both — and without molasses or even ketchup. And, I realized that with that platter came the blues. Just as promised. What a legacy.