A favorite small town-seeming quirk for a mid-sized city like Anchorage is the chatter when a new restaurant opens. Our burgeoning and diverse food scene has plenty of room for growth, and people are excited about new and potentially tasty experiences.
Crimson opened to the public in mid-June at 4th and C St. and is housed within the new Wildbirch Hotel, which opened in May. The enterprise is co-developed by former U.S. Senator Mark Begich with the ambition of helping to revitalize downtown.
The ambiance at Crimson is fun. It felt stylish, if tad hotel-generic, like a restaurant I’d visit while on a trip Outside somewhere urban. Thankfully, designers avoided obnoxious Alaskana decor that sometimes beguiles our public areas, but the restaurant space lacks local artwork or much in the way of personality. Perhaps the intent was to allow the light and view to be the focus. We were seated along the 3rd avenue side windows, showing the port of anchorage, and the less compelling Wildbirch parking lot in front of that. Marketing for the hotel and restaurant repeatedly reference “unobstructed views of the Iditarod start line,” which will indeed be very cool for the handful of hours per year that occurs.
Still, the dining room was welcoming with comfortable chairs and fun lighting. When we arrived at 7 p.m., the restaurant was mostly full and felt clean and spacious, rather than overly loud or crowded.
The service was excellent. Over the course of our meal, we were visited by the hostess, our server, the manager and another food runner, each of whom were warm and attentive. We were never long without a check-in or water top-off, nor did I notice any such delays for nearby tables.
The employees were so kind, that providing honest feedback to their inquiries about the food felt a bit challenging. Overall, the food showed definite promise amid inconsistency — a few standout bites, a few misfires.
The drink menu has a variety of cocktails, an extensive wine list, and Midnight Sun Brewing beers. Non-alcoholic options were not listed on the menu, but our server told us about five house mocktail options when we asked. The cocktails at nearby tables looked fun and tasty, and I would definitely go back to sample them.
We started with the hummus plate ($16), which is a slightly strange menu offering for a restaurant with “Pan-American Latin flair.” The platter arrived with warm, oiled flatbread, halved cherry tomatoes, crumbled feta, pickled purple onion, and a boldly chipotle-flavored hummus, which is how the Latin flair was loudly introduced into this Mediterranean dish. If you don’t like spice, the chipotle in the hummus could easily be over the top, but we decided we were content, but not in love with it, alongside the crunch of the other toppings.
From there, we ordered the Mama Mia pizza ($20), seared scallops entrée off the “Local Specialties” menu ($32), and a side of fries ($7). The pizza had mozzarella, brie, dried fig, prosciutto, and caramelized onion. The crust was on point: soft and chewy, and the sweetness from the fig and onion were a good balance to the salty cheeses and meat. For me, it had way too much cheese, but a lot of people love that, so to each their own. No Latin flair here, but if you like a cheesy ‘za, I’d give one of these a try.
The fries arrived in a shape I’ve never before encountered (impressive) and were objectively great. Well seasoned, crispy, potato-forward. The Latin flair came in the form of their house dipping sauce, which was a maple chipotle aioli. I’m not a huge maple fan, so this was a miss for me, though originality points are deserved.
Most disappointing were the scallops, which were served atop a bed of garlicky cannellini beans, sautéed cherry tomatoes, wilty arugula, lightly herby oil, and topped with micro greens. Notoriously difficult to nail, the scallops were overcooked (not dramatically, but noticeably) and the dish felt underseasoned and disjointed. We didn’t finish it, and I wouldn’t order it again.
Though we were overall content, but not necessarily enthused, we proceeded to order dessert.
We opted for the cream cheese stuffed churros, which come with a dulce de leche dipping sauce. The churros arrived seemingly straight from the fryer, to the sugar-cinnamon topper, then to our table. They were crispy, wonderful, and a comically large portion for two people. They’re pretty messy with the sugary topping and dipping sauce, but a fun dessert that I don’t see too often on menus in town.
It’s clear Anchorage’s food scene is growing, and Crimson is another step forward — even if it stumbles over its own “Pan-American Latin flair” (note: I am admittedly skeptical of hotel restaurants). Crimson wasn’t a slam dunk, but I’m curious about how it’ll evolve once tourist season has passed, especially since Anchorage has limited stylish options at this price point.
So, should you go? If you’re looking for a brunch or night out with strong service, enticing bar menu, and a few standout bites, yes — just order wisely. I’ll go back for those churros, a cocktail with a view, and a reasonable hope that other yet untested menu options will provide a pleasant surprise.
Jenny Weis writes for a variety of Alaska nonprofits and causes in between keeping up on Alaska's doughnut scene, sliding on snow, and gawking at cool plants and rocks along local trails.
