Among the big names of Cleveland restaurants, Zack Bruell is the most acclaimed chef you don't know

zack-bruell-chinato.JPGView full sizeZack Bruell in Chinato: "I made the conscious decision that I wanted customers to come join me here, and experience the city."

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- In Zack Bruell's world, the restaurant is a stage.

The dining room is a theatrical set. Lighting, sound, colors all create the mood. Cooks are lead characters, working from a script called the menu. Servers play featured roles. The customers are the stars.

Bruell? He's the maestro, both playwright and director.

And in Cleveland, a city that has cemented its status as a dining-destination on the national landscape, Bruell stands center stage. With three James Beard Award nominations and four successful restaurants, Bruell is arguably the city's most acclaimed chef you don't know.

While other high-profile restaurateurs -- among them, Iron Chef Michael Symon, The Greenhouse Tavern's Jonathon Sawyer and Momocho's Eric Williams -- bask in the spotlight, Bruell remains low-key, even as his restaurants win national recognition.

Parallax. Table 45. L'Albatros Brasserie and Bar. Chinato.

That's four top-shelf restaurants, all of them in the city of Cleveland proper. No other local independent restaurateur can make that claim.

"I've done the suburbs, and there's a lot to be said for them," Bruell says of his decision to go urban when most new fine-dining ventures gravitate away. "I made the conscious decision that I wanted customers to come join me here, and experience the city."

They do, and in droves. Former New Yorker magazine culture critic and Cleveland Heights resident Charles Michener understands why.

"He's Cleveland's best," Michener said. "His dishes are uncluttered, true to their ethnic roots -- Japanese, French, Italian, etc. -- yet shrewdly updated for contemporary palates."

Respect and disdain

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Bruell's artistry, precision and exacting eye have garnered attention beyond the Lake Erie shore. The New York Times called L'Albatros "the [city's] most talked about restaurant" in 2009, singling out its "impeccably executed French specialties." Last year Esquire magazine ranked it among the nation's best new restaurants. Two years earlier, in 2007, the magazine conferred the same award on Table 45.

Such accolades range back to his earliest solo flight as a chef-owner, the acclaimed Z Contemporary. In 1986, USA Today applauded his maiden voyage, naming Bruell among the vanguard of a generation of chefs capable of "fresh, imaginative specialties that would be first-class anywhere in the world."

So . . . why the comparative anonymity?

Bruell, 57, admits he's more likely to circle the spotlight than take its full glare. "I'm not a natural bull----er," he says, dismissing the celebrity chef phenomenon as "pure pop culture."

"I was there at the beginning of that whole 'star chef' thing, in the late 70s," he says. "It's ridiculous. We're not 'stars' or 'celebrities.' We're craftsmen."

If ever there was a guy who doesn't seem built for the hospitality industry, it's this self-proclaimed "Jewish rich kid from Shaker Heights" who shocked his parents when he chose not to take over his father's business.

Unlike most high-profile chefs, Bruell can seem aloof, even sullen. When he's not working the line in chef's whites, he favors well-tailored threads that lend an air of pedigree. Trim and athletic, the only thing he loves more than his family and his work is golfing.

Which doesn't exactly contribute to the down-to-earth personas, and the boundless charm, frequently associated with those who rise to the top of local restaurant success stories. Even some usually upbeat chefs -- including some of the city's top-ranked -- declined to comment about Bruell on the record.

"Let's just say [Bruell] doesn't play well with others," said one.

That's true, Bruell admits with a shrug. "See, I'm seriously really shy -- and that gets interpreted as arrogance or snobbery. And maybe I'm both of those things, or at least have a streak of that running through me."

He does have fans, though, among his peers.

Doug Katz, chef-owner of Fire Food and Drink in Shaker Square, got his first serious cooking job with Bruell. "He taught discipline, that you have to have high standards and you couldn't deviate from [them]," Katz says. "He taught me how serious every detail was."

Veteran restaurateur Paul Minnillo, chef-owner of The Baricelli Inn in Cleveland, admires Bruell and considers him a friend.

"Zack works like a 35-year-old -- he's an animal," Minnillo says. "He's a smart guy, a phenomenal worker and a great chef. When he started back when, there was very little press about anything we were doing. That makes him upset, and I can see where he's coming from."

The improbable chef, on his own

zack-bruell-chinato-Chicken-saltimbocca.JPGView full sizeChicken legs saltimbocca at Zack Bruell's latest restaurant, Italian-inspired Chinato in downtown Cleveland.

Ernest Bruell and his wife, Marjorie Loeb Bruell, raised three daughters and their only son -- born Zachary Ernest Bruell on Nov. 28, 1952 -- with all the privilege and comfort their Shaker Heights neighborhood could afford.

Ernest was a manufacturer's representative, dealing with cabinetry and hardware. Bruell idolized his father, whom he describes as a driven man with an insatiable work ethic. Their relationship often was contentious.

After graduating from Shaker Heights High School in 1971, Bruell was accepted at the University of Pennsylvania. The U.S. Selective Service had other plans. He was drafted at age 19 but managed to land in the Coast Guard Reserve, in time to celebrate his 20th birthday in boot camp.

He showed up for induction with a shoulder-length shower of red, frizzy hair, and a smirk. Both disappeared quickly.

"The day they shaved my head . . . that was the first time I really realized, 'You are on your own,' " Bruell says, eyes rolling.

When he finished his stint, he transferred to the University of Colorado Boulder, where he earned a degree in business in 1976. He also fell in with another young guy whose interest in food would set a new course for Bruell's life.

Michael McCarty was teaching the French language, using cooking as a tool. "[Zack] told me, 'I'm kinda digging that 'French food' thing you're doing -- how do I get involved?' " McCarty says. "Problem was, Zack didn't speak French and had no actual knowledge about cooking. So I told him, 'Go get yourself some training and get back to me.' "

McCarty recommended that Bruell attend The Restaurant School in the Philadelphia area, at the time a leading chef training center.

Ernest Bruell disapproved vehemently.

"When I told him what I intended to do, he told me 'Are you out of your f-----g mind?! You could make more money as a garbage man.' Of course he was right, certainly back then," Bruell says. "What upper-middle-class Jewish kid went into the kitchen? None."

West, to salad days and stardom

Bruell completed the program in 1977, and joined McCarty in California where he was opening Michael's Santa Monica. Seminal in the American food movement, Michael's heralded the birth of what came to be known as "California cuisine," which emphasized creative uses of regional ingredients.

Bruell suddenly found himself surrounded by some of his generation's greatest young chefs: Roy Yamaguchi, Mark Peel, Nancy Silverton, Ken Frank, and Jonathan Waxman,'who now operates the acclaimed Barbuto in New York City' and West County Grill in Sebastapol, Calif. Still friends, Waxman speaks of Bruell with fond respect.

"Michael's was a bit like rock 'n' roll: there was this amazing group of people and there were no charted roads," Waxman says. "In that milieu, Zack was easygoing. Nothing ever bothered him, ever ticked him off. He was steady-Freddy, worked his ass off. And he was mechanically perfect."

McCarty remembers the young chef as the guy who was seeking out ingredients that most American chefs, let alone diners, only read about in classic culinary literature.

"There was no such thing as radicchio," McCarty said. "Call up your fish broker and every variety you named was frozen. But Zack was out there hunting for chanterelles and foie gras, stuff nobody was using at the time."

Homeward bound, to loss and applause

After two years at Michael's, Bruell decided that what he was doing in Southern California could just as easily translate elsewhere -- even Cleveland.

In 1985, he opened Z Contemporary Cuisine at Tower East in Shaker Heights, the first of three collaborations with architect William Blunden. Almost immediately, the restaurant was winning notice for its light, open design as well as for its cuisine. Bruell was in the forefront of a sea change in the region's culinary scene.

Ali Barker, now executive chef for South Franklin Circle in Chagrin Falls, said Bruell "is one of the key reasons I moved here" from New York City. "This guy always had different things on the menu -- and this was in a time before the farm-to-table movement, the put-the-name-of-your-butcher or dairy guy on the menu," Barker says.

For seven years, Z Contemporary remained one of the most respected restaurants in Northeast Ohio. Then in 1992, construction woes at Tower East drew Bruell to move his operation to Eton Chagrin in Woodmere.

"It was basically a change in address, but I felt like something else was changing, something I didn't like," Bruell says. By 1995, he had had it with the stress of running a place that had become a haunt for many of the region's top powerbrokers. Within months, Z closed.

By now, married 10 years to his wife, Laurie, the family man and father of three, was looking for work.

And now for something completely different

Work soon found him.

"I'd been eating at Zack's restaurant for years," says restaurateur Ken Stewart, whose eponymous grill in Akron is itself an area landmark. "I found myself down to one cook, so I told him, 'Could you pitch in? I only would need you to work for me for a little while.' "

But Stewart's formula for success didn't include a "name" chef.

"We're not a chef-driven restaurant," he says. "[Zack] has a huge ego, but I explained to him at the start, 'Someday you're going to leave, and I don't want a menu that everyone thinks every dish was cooked by you.' "

Bruell still broods over his first day on the job, when Stewart walked up to him and asked, "Do you mind if you're not here at night?"

"Most people would say, 'Are you kidding me? That's great -- I'm out of here!' Bruell says. "But I was, like, devastated. They wanted my food, but not all the personal touches."

Still, he held onto the salary for eight years. Then, while traveling to visit college campuses for oldest daughter Frederique, the chef made the decision to create a new restaurant. And to move swiftly.

In 2004, Bruell and his business partner David Schneider signed a lease on a building at the corner of West 11th Street at Fairfield in Tremont. The space had long housed the former Kosta's.

"I pulled in every favor I could," says Bruell, "and we opened Parallax in 56 days."

Version 3.0 of Bruell's eye-catching creations, this time a collaboration with architect Ron Reed of Westlake, Reed, Leskosky, focused on dishes that fused familiar ingredients with a few exotics and Asian flourishes, in a light, sleek environment.

"We aimed to create an environment that's going to reinforce the food," says Reed. "Whatever kind of magic [Zack] is going to do with the cuisine, the [design] has to feed off from that."

All the while, Cleveland had been picking up momentum in its climb to culinary prominence. Symon was hosting a show on Food Network and earning Beard Foundation nominations. Minnillo drew plaudits for his work with Taste of the NFL and as a chef consultant for Continental Airlines. Parker Bosley, a pioneering chef-restaurateur and early proponent of the local foods and farmers markets movement, drew attention from publications like Gourmet magazine.

Bruell says he was content. But when a dramatic new opportunity presented itself, the ever-restless entrepreneur couldn't pass it up.

zack-bruell-cooking-chinato.JPGZack Bruell is known for his ego and for his relentless pursuit of perfection. "So why do I still strive for greatness? I've been chasing a ghost. My father's ghost. And finally I caught it. Unfortunately, he didn't get to see all this."

A mini-empire emerges

Delos "Toby" Cosgrove, chief executive officer of the Cleveland Clinic, wanted to reinvent the ultra-formal Classics restaurant in the clinic's InterContinental Hotel and Conference Center at Carnegie Avenue and East 98th Street. Classics' extravagance and expense drew hosannas from critics, but the restaurant had all the warmth and joy of a sepulcher, and few paying customers.

"I thought, basically, that Classics was too formal, too severe in atmosphere for contemporary diners," says Cosgrove. " [Classics] catered to the white-glove group. Most of the patients and personnel here are NOT that group."

Cosgrove closed Classics. Bruell promptly volunteered for the challenge of resuscitating the space.

"I've known Zack's work since Z, and it was always one of my favorite restaurants -- refreshing and versatile, and always diverse in its food offerings," Cosgrove says.

Working again with Blunden, Bruell totally rebuilt the restaurant. Light, open and airy, Table 45 debuted, named for the best seats in the house at Parallax. Bruell created a menu of playful dishes representative of modern world cuisine.

L'Albatros followed, on the campus of Case Western Reserve University. This time, Reed swept away any vestiges of the former That Place on Bellflower, which for years had occupied a 1912 carriage house and stables. In keeping with the campus setting, Bruell opted for a brasserie-and-bar motif with a moderate price point. Before its opening, the chef spent time in Paris seeking authentic dishes that he could emulate, with his own flourishes.

He did the same thing when Ari Maron and his partners at MRN Ltd. offered a space on the burgeoning restaurant row they had helped to create on East Fourth Street. The operators had already wooed Symon to relocate his hugely popular Lola Bistro to the strip.

"I really wasn't looking for another location, but this was just too good to pass up," Bruell says. A trip through parts of Italy helped shape a menu "made up dishes that you'd actually find over there, not the usual Americanized stuff," he says.

Critic Michener extols the characteristics that distinguish Bruell's various restaurants: "He favors clean, bright, bold flavors -- food that has a bit of a worldly kick, looks good on the plate, is appropriately portioned, and never comes across as boastful or fussy," Michener said in an e-mail. "Any of his Cleveland places would be a hit in New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Chicago or Boston."

Opportunity and its price

In life, as in theater, good seats don't come cheap. Bruell admits his success has had a corrosive effect on relationships.

"It's taken a big toll on my relationship with my wife, and as much as I live for my kids, I guess they've paid, too," he says.

Only one is likely to follow his professional path. Son Julian, 20, is in the hotel and hospitality program at Cornell University. Julian's twin sister, Remi, is enrolled in the journalism program at University of Kansas.

Frederique, now 22, lives in south Florida. An amateur golf titlist, she's following another of her father's paths, hoping for a career as a pro.

"She's just like me," Bruell says. "We're both relentless on the course."

Years earlier, he patched things up with his dad. Ernest Bruell died in 1984. Bruell's eyes well as he speaks of their last moments together.

"I asked him, 'Will I see you again?' He looked at me, nodded his head and said, 'Definitely.' So I said 'OK. It's OK for you to go.' I was holding him when he died."

His mother, Marjorie, recently turned 93. He revels in her continued independence, only wishing his father were around to share in all that has been accomplished.

"I don't look back, I don't live in the past, and I don't live with regret," Bruell says.

"So why do I still strive for greatness? I've been chasing a ghost. My father's ghost. And finally I caught it. Unfortunately, he didn't get to see all this."

Video: Zack Bruell opens Chinato

(coolcleveland.com)

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