Photograph by Jon Medina
Once upon a time, when Cincinnati was known as “Porkopolis,” Fountain Square was a butcher’s market. As the city grew and reimagined life in public spaces, it reclaimed the square for newer, more fragrant endeavors. To honor its legacy and squeeze through a legal loophole, the city kept a florist stall in the former meat market space. Every year, the mayor visited to pay the city’s lease by purchasing a flower from the stall for a penny. Although the cart has gone the way of the old market, Pennyflower Bistro & Bar celebrates its memory.
The venue embraces its neighborhood in name and design. The sign (a stylized pig holding a flower) invites questions, and Chef Jacob Benavides hopes, friendly conversations. Diffused sunlight glows through the windowed wall along Broadway, and inside, every table sports a single bloom or spray of fresh flowers.
Photograph by Jon Medina
The menu is just as colorful. The Smoked Butterfly cocktail is one of the servers’ top recommendations. Butterfly pea flower- and prickly pear-infused tequila, mezcal, lime, and toasted almond bitters transform you into the hookah-smoking caterpillar from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Light floral notes bloom into a finish so smoky I thought they’d used a cocktail smoker for flavor. For playful souls, there’s the Bourbon Cream Soda. A generous pour of Maker’s Mark goes into a house-blended cream soda with fresh vanilla bean and a big scoop of Tillamook ice cream. It’s simple, delightful, and delicious.
Benavides and his sous chef, Sameer Murekar, butcher proteins in-house, make sauces from scratch, and even shred their own hash browns, but they work with other local businesses to source bread (Sixteen Bricks), gin (Northern Row Distillery), and microgreens (Fort Thomas Microgreens). Those greens pop on the burrata (Mandarin oranges, olive oil, Tellicherry peppercorn, and balsamic vinegar). Easy to share, the appetizer looks and tastes like a sunburst. Sweet oranges bring out the cheese’s character, and the drizzled oil and vinegar complicate things nicely. The carbonara croquettes oppose the burrata in every way, serving up crunchy puffs with lemon aioli, a snowbank of Parmesan, and savory lengths of prosciutto with the same pepper as the burrata. These two share a table surprisingly well, linked by citrus and peppercorns, and they scratch the itch for a refined, light introduction to dinner, along with the eternal call of fried things with cheese.
Pennyflower doesn’t serve anything with heat that isn’t equally sweet. The hot Nashville chicken sandwich tangos between these extremes with hot honey, sweet house pickles, and whole grain mustard caught in a potato bun. The chicken is juicy, the breading is crispy, and the entrée is an easy way to impress a date who expects you to catch fire. Approach this beastie without fear. If you want the zip Nashville hot chicken dishes usually provide, this won’t live up to your expectations.
The hot chicken isn’t the only fowl on the menu. The Amish chicken pressade reimagines pork belly with poultry. Layers of meat, fatty skin, and seasoning are pressed flat in a pan before cooking. The finished product arrives in long, narrow cuts that showcase the strata like a block of bacon. Red chimichurri and Calabrian chiles weave sweet, tangy spice throughout, and the natural stain furthers the illusion of red meat. Two cuts of pressade frame a garden of fingerling potatoes crisped at the edges and soft inside. Cutting into it topples the illusion of a cohesive slice, but as the layers come apart, they land in the sauce and potatoes, so you can catch all the flavors in one forkful.
Photograph by Jon Medina
The Grilled New York is a particularly pretty plate. Disks of tender, rich steak blossom over a bed of black diamond cheddar pearls, and one of Pennyflower’s biggest twists hides below the meat: beets. Benavides aims to infuse vegetables with deep flavor, and here he showcases how to marry vegetables with proteins for a great entrée. While the steak gets the confit treatment (beef tallow and herbs), the beets soak in applewood smoke. Serving them together brings the warm taste of the grill to the meat’s natural fat, and the union is blessed by the beets’ natural sweetness. As the mildest of the three flavors, the cheddar pearls round things out with tapioca texture and a touch of salt.
Some of the best parts of the menu hide at the end of the meal. The crème brûlée sports a perfect, sugared crust, and the seasonings (fresh vanilla bean and cardamom) appear in each spoonful. It isn’t the restaurant’s crowning jewel, though. The darling of the menu goes through fire to reach the top.
Photograph by Jon Medina
Without a campfire, s’mores never live up to expectations, but Pennyflower’s version delivers everything it promises. The bulk of this beauty is fresh Italian meringue, made in-house every day. The fluff swallows a heart of vanilla bean ice cream and stands on a bed of crumbled graham. Like a baked Alaska, each s’more is toasted by hand via torch, and the open flame delivers the faint, smoky char that gives the dessert its soul. It’s a scene stopper and a conversation starter that leaves you comparing fireside adventures with friends as you pay the bill. As you head out, you’ll find yourself debating the finer points of roasting a marshmallow. (The best is well-burnt and gooey on the inside in case you needed a second opinion.)
Pennyflower Bistro & Bar, 701 Broadway St., downtown, (513) 904-4149
Hours: Lunch Mon–Fri 11 a.m.–3:30 p.m., dinner Sun–Thurs 4–9 p.m. and Fri & Sat 4–10 p.m.
Prices: $6 (Sixteen Bricks sourdough starter)–$100 (bone-in Allen Bros. rib eye)
Credit Cards: All major
The Takeaway: Accessible bistro with bright bouquets of flavor.
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