Goat Head: Wouldst Thou Like To Eat Deliciously?

Goat Head
702 S 300 E, Salt Lake City
(385) 490-2898
Tue-Sun: 8 a.m.-3 p.m.
slcgoathead.com

Let’s begin with a glimpse of how the food review sausage gets made. I get assigned to review a spot, I eat a few dishes, editors let the restaurant know and a SLUG photographer takes photos of the dishes I tried. Easy enough. But with Goat Head, things went differently.

After my initial visit, they emailed SLUG to say I done fucked up (my words, not theirs). Their take: The dishes I ordered were too basic to represent their menu. Fair play! Maybe it was too basic of me to order the Basic Witch ($12.50), a cheese omelette I upgraded with ham ($2) and green onion ($0.25). Y’all, that omelette was anything BUT basic. The eggs and onion tasted like they came straight from a farm that morning. Salty ham, decadent cheese and zesty onion made it one of the freshest egg dishes I’ve ever had in Salt Lake City. Still, I took their feedback to heart and went back to try what they felt better reflects their vision.

One standout was the Corrido de Cortez ($11). Named after a ballad about Mexican folk hero Gregorio Cortez, it’s also a nod to resistance against oppression. The fried tortillas, refried black beans, eggs and house ranchero salsa topped with jalapeños, queso fresco and cilantro made every bite bold, fresh and soulful. I added bacon for $2, and the spice-plus-salt combo was perfect.

My friend Aaron came with, and he ordered the Beasts of England ($16.50) with slow-cooked pulled pork, espresso barbecue sauce, dill pickles, coleslaw and a pretzel bun. I tried the Kevin Bacon ($14.50). Both came with house potatoes, easily some of the best I’ve had: crispy, seasoned just right, with dreamy garlic aioli.

Halfway through the meal, I asked Aaron a question. He paused mid-bite, shook his head and said, “Sorry, man. Didn’t hear you. This sandwich is incredible.” When I stole a bite, I understood. The espresso barbecue sauce was velvety, smoky, sweet and rich. Worth the trip on its own.

Goat Head also said that too many write-ups misrepresent them as a horror-themed or even Satanist cafe. To be fair, with dishes called Hail Seitan, The Cultist and Children of the Corn, plus their goat-headed logo, it’s not a wild leap. But it’s clear that their real influences are Southern, Tex-Mex and Asian flavors from the owner’s Houston upbringing, paired with a punk ethos rooted in solidarity and resistance.

That punk spirit shines in their menu. For example, the Laura Jane Grace ($15.00), named after the trans musician of Against Me!, is their way of honoring both music and community. I didn’t try it (vegan isn’t my lane), but the reference alone made me smile. I grew up on those same albums.

Here’s the thing: Goat Head may bristle at how people perceive them, but perception is part of the gig. The moment you share food, music or any art, it belongs to the audience, too. They can’t fully control that. What they can control (and what they absolutely NAIL) is the food.

That’s why I think there’s nothing wrong with ordering “basic” choices. Because that basic omelette blew me away. It was so unexpectedly good that I started planning a return visit after the first bite. That’s rare.

So yes, Goat Head is political, punk and proud. But above all, they care deeply about their craft. Their dishes are fresh, creative and anchored in heritage. If you’re hunting for an October brunch that feeds both hunger and spirit, stop looking. Goat Head will quickly become a go-to favorite.

Read more about local cuisine:
Cosmica: A Star-Studded Spin on Italian Cuisine
Ramblin Roads Family Restaurant: All Roads Lead Downtown