Memphis Taproom

But the jalapeño corn dodgers, really hush puppies, were dry and bland. The tempura-fried veggies with coconut curry dip were cooked to a nearly burnt brown. The beef pasties, which were more like empanadas, were hollowly understuffed with the tasty beer-braised shortribs.

And for a place that pays homage to vegans with such thoughtful treats as the smoked avocado-tomato sandwich (the "ALT") and a satisfying toasted barley-white bean chili with jalapeño-pickled veggies, some of Memphis' salads were a little lame. The "iceberg" salad was more of a tepid chopped salad than the brisk wedge we expected. The panzanella was more of a soggy Greek with pale croutons than the hearty bread and tomato salad I'd hoped for.

Still, these were blips alongside meals that brought unexpected highlights like a grilled hunk of fresh mahimahi with roasted asparagus, or a chilled cauliflower soup streaked with truffled honey, or an addictive brunch plate of "Tailgate" eggs scrambled chilaquiles-style with tortillas, roasted poblanos and sausage.

One thing the Memphis really should improve soon are its desserts, currently some unfortunate vegan offerings. In the meantime, the solution is easy: Order a J.W. Lees Vintage 1998, a figgy British strong ale that tastes like spiced port.

It's the kind of rare dessert brew a true beer geek might travel for. But now, lucky Kensingtonians, both old and new school, don't even have to leave the neighborhood.