What is Ross’ Grill in Provincetown?
Ross’ Grill is a year-round restaurant in Provincetown, MA, known for its waterfront views, upscale dining, and expertly crafted dishes, including seafood, grilled meats, and decadent risottos.
Is Ross’ Grill open in the off-season?
Yes, Ross’ Grill is open year-round, making it a reliable dining option in Provincetown even during the quieter winter months.
What are the best dishes at Ross’ Grill?
Popular menu items include the Mushroom Risotto with White Truffle Oil, Cape Cod Seafood Stew, Grilled Yellowfin Tuna, and Braised Short Ribs.
Where is Ross’ Grill located in Provincetown?
Ross’ Grill is located in the Whaler’s Wharf shopping complex, offering stunning views of Cape Cod Bay.
Does Ross’ Grill take reservations?
Yes, reservations are recommended, especially during the summer and holiday weekends.
Ross’ Grill Off-Season Hours (Feb 2025): Thurs - Sun: 1130a-3p, 5-9p
On the Table Tonight:
- Cheese & Charcuterie Sampler
- Mushroom Risotto with White Truffle Oil
- Cape Cod Seafood Stew
- Grilled Yellowfin Tuna
- Braised Short Ribs
- Banana Bread Pudding
Sadie Hawkins Paper Chase
Not that I was precisely galloping past the church and the hardware store, pursued by a determined young woman with matrimony in her eyes, but Bumble delivered a stinger in person when I was asked to dinner at Ross’ Grill. Naturally, I accepted. I am, after all, a progressive fellow, a bon vivant, a man of the world. Moreover, I’m enraptured by good food, I’d heard wonderful things about Ross’ (though I weep for their apostrophe’s misuse) though I had yet to dine … oh and the woman who invited me was lovely. She wasn’t quite a dime but was in fact more than a nickel, if you read me. And I, a certified short stack of pennies, was moved to clutch my pearls when asked to accompany her.
Imagine, then, my surprise when I arrived fashionably late (but not obnoxiously so—just enough to ensure a well-developed sense of yearning in my host) to find not the bold architect of this outing but, rather, a seat-filler. A stunt double. A warm body holding the fort. I gave the reservation name to the hostess then was shown to the table, the guest at which was made witness to a very embarrassing ‘there must be some mistake, I said the reservation for ________.”
Then from a million miles away the seated prop spoke out to assure me that “she’ll be back very soon, she had to step away.”
You can likely see it now, my face long with sheer confusion. I had been asked out and then … not quite stood up but … passed off? Yes, that’s it; I’d been passed off to someone I’d made no promise to enchant. I hope Ross’s lighting was low enough to mask my blushing cheeks. I nodded sympathetically at this new, unannounced, party to our mystery evening. It was my best and most earnest effort to put her at ease. Poor child was nothing but an innocent, collateral damage, I’d decided. I should do my part to be up-right and ensure she didn’t feel like the pawn she was so clearly played to be.
I nodded politely to the hostess’s distant back and took my seat overlooking the glorious Cape Cod Bay. Or I would have overlooked the bay had the sun been out for us. If this had been lunch/ If this had been so many other times but this moment. But It was here and now and I had committed to this seat so was now staring squarely into a window into the dark of night - otherwise known as a mirror. Did I mention my back was to the door. Yes, I’d somehow managed to make a bad table situation worse. Perfect. I, the dupe, the second-string player in my own evening, contemplating my foolish visage. Well played, universe.
My nerves were shaken, but I would fortify them yet. I steeled myself to get outside of myself and comfort this pure soul with me.
Before I could find the apology trailhead to climb that peak, she stuffed an olive into her mouth and let me know that ______ had ordered this lovely charcuterie plate - a portion of which was missing but looked lovely just the same. I did, in fact, help myself. A gentleman adapts. What a good sport this new gal was. Maybe his night wouldn’t be a loss, I thought and found the smoky meats - it could only be soppressata, right? Before I could quite register my situation, I found myself slipping into easy conversation over fine meats and cheeses.
The waitress arrived, and I saw no reason to hold back. I ordered the Mushroom Risotto with White Truffle Oil and a glass of Montepulciano—if one is to be set adrift, one might as well have an oar. Cheers to us both, my peculiar dinner compatriot.
As I pilferred the tray of smoked meats, various cheese, fruits, and spreads (complete with soft, diagonally cut baguette slices), I learned that Sadie, who’d chased me like paper scraps strewn to the winds, had business to attend elsewhere in the charming mall but would doubtless rejoin us at her earliest. I smiled now, imbibing in the luscious red and the aesthetic pleasures of this tapas spread. Before I could overthink my situation, the risotto arrived, rich as the multinational real estate group which no doubt owns the building and its lovely views.
APPETIZERS
Cheese & Charcuterie Sampler
Mushroom Risotto with White Truffle Oil
Then, just as my destined dinner date and I had come to a resting rhythm in our conversation, the elusive Ms Hawkins re-emerged at our table-side. My Catholic guilt set in as if a wound Swiss watch and immediately I knew Saide’d have her work cut out for her wedging her way into the newly forged bond I now held with this foreign creature.
Alas, as I scrapped the valleys of my mind organ for an instrument with which to shatter the glacier of this new dynamic, my two companions distracted themselves, and, in turn, yours truly, by indulging in what was left of these masterful appetizers, our waitress looming and sweeping away excess tableware to make room for the pieces de resistance - the short parade of our main courses was on the march. With a red wine refill, the warmth in my cheeks found its way to the hearts of the friends at my flanks. Let us go then, you, you, and I …
ENTREES
Cape Cod Seafood Stew
Scallops, clams, oysters, mussels, and whole fish submerged in a divine sauce … this dish is a triumph, particularly in the cold months. The addition of corn on the cob is Ross’ very own finger print, and a commendable one at that.
Grilled Yellowfin Tuna
A sweet soy glaze, jasmine rice, and pickled ginger & vegetables completed this handsome composition which will capture your breath as well as your Pavlovian instincts. The tuna itself cooked to an exquisite degree of perfection, it’s char a mathematical marvel.
Braised Short Ribs
The sort of dish that makes a man believe in something greater than himself. The short ribs, falling apart at the mere suggestion of a fork, were served bone-in—an assertive move by the kitchen, suggesting they knew precisely the power they wielded. The cabernet sauce, rich and enveloping, seeped into the accompanying mashed potatoes with an intimacy that bordered on scandalous. Roasted asparagus stood atop the creation like a flag on the moon, offering an elegant burst of color. More than one sigh was uttered.
It took very little coaxing to summon the Banana Bread Pudding to be summoned to our midst. Its fatal execution was swift and succulent.
DESSERT
Banana Bread Pudding
Is it true that this is Front Street Cafe’s recipe? Do I have a moral stance? Do I care either way, moral or otherwise? Do I eat both? These are all rhetorical.
••••
Suitably stuffed and merry, we wrapped ourselves in coats and emerged into the Provincetown night, that particular sort of warmth that follows a fine meal insulating us against the cold. A wander down Commercial Street revealed that the Squealing Pig’s interior lights were still ablaze, a beacon of possibility. One of my companions, possessed of strong convictions, refused to set foot in the Governor Bradford, deeming it a den of fascists and scoundrels. The Pig it was.
Leaving together later that night, all three of us enthralled to know each other more, better, and, soon, biblically, I had my first belly laugh in a week. One of my suitors remarked, from the front seat into the rear view mirror, that going home with her passenger and myself was better than sacking a perfect 10, as “a three and an eight make an 11 for me.”
Indeed, dearest nightcrawler, indeedy-do-dah.
•••••
Do you have a favorite year-round Provincetown restaurant and want to regal us with tales of your adventures? Have you ever been biblical?
We’d love to read your stories, hear your voice memos, see your pictures, and watch your videos.
Please send along to us anytime: editors@hyperlocalcapecod.com
Subscribe to our newsletter and follow us on all social for updates.
