Review: BayGrill in Frisco

Aiming to please is so important to a restaurant's success, and it's something so few of them really do. Ingram and his crew at BayGrill appear to care sincerely. During a meal service, they are there and not there, popping up just when they're needed and stepping into the shadows again when they're not. We could find only one thing wrong with the ambience: They might be a mite too obliging to parents bringing in young children. Shrieking toddlers and squalling infants were all around at the Saturday night dinner. Their parents could tune out the din. We couldn't. Please, people, hire a baby-sitter. You might look at your little ones as adorable genetic miracles, but to the rest of us they're as welcome in a nice restaurant as a pack of wild dogs.

That's really our biggest beef about BayGrill. Speaking of which (cue the transition music), Ingram knows about meat and he might want to tip his menu a little more toward us carnivores. His fish is fine enough—except for that gunky cod—but his burger and filet mignon are standouts. Still using his meat suppliers from Kirby's and Morton's days, Ingram serves only the highest quality Sterling Silver beef. The burger, accompanied by matchstick-thin pomme frites, sings a juicy basso profundo aria of peppery seasonings and careful grilling.

While our dining companion savored his cedar plank salmon, we had the 8-ounce filet mignon. Thick yet dainty, it was dry yet buttery-rich in all the right ways. We would make that long drive—heck, we'd swim upstream—for another of these tenderloin gems. This is fancy steakhouse-quality beef at a Houston's price.

Half of our entrees went into to-go boxes at both meals because the dessert choices were too tempting. Key lime pie almost everywhere else has become corrupted by cheesecake-y thickness and oversweet fillings. BayGrill's sour-sweet Key lime pie has two layers of originality: a thick meringue topped with burnished peaks and bits of candied lime zest; and a white chocolate and macadamia nut crust that crunches like a praline. Let us pause now to thank the dessert muses for inspiring these innovations.

Nuggets of macadamia also are sprinkled into the dreamy crème brûlée. The bread pudding, new to BayGrill's dessert lineup, isn't the typical scoop of gooey beige mush drowned in white sauce. This warm, soft shimmer of sweet bread is delicately mined with cranberries instead of raisins. Nice touch. And a fitting way to end a mighty sweet meal.