I stopped in for the first time this evening and boy do I like the staff. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a fantastic environment, innovative culinary technique and exceptional cocktails. I really walked away impressed by the people. Let me opine some details...
The scenario: I'm meeting a date at the bar. Although I have announced myself as a foodie, I really am looking forward to spending time talking to her and not getting too deep into shoptalk. I don't know about anybody else in the industry, but I love throwing myself on the whim of the chef and mixologist. Let your brain go on vacation and just enjoy being taken care of, so to speak. Plenty of time for analysis later...
Is it me, or does an artistic environment bring out the intellectual in us? I found the conversations with my date jumped from one deep subject to the next. Not exactly second date protocol, yet we had a ball with it. For me the interesting thing is that every interaction we had with the staff supported this observation. Not that they were joining our conversation about Mayan numerology or biogenetic ethics, but I felt that under the surface any of them could have.
I didn't eat a thing all day, wanting to show up with a Batali-sized appetite. Maybe it was the jitters, or something, but I absolutely lost my appetite driving there. I hate it when that happens. No matter how much you say you like the food, the fact that you seem to be picking at it always unnerves the host. Apps at the bar included the octopus, cheese plate and charcuterie (I have been looking forward to trying this for quite some time.) I picked at them all, in some strange mindset where I could identify the technique and layers of flavor intellectually, but not experiencing the work from the soul. Like watching a sunset in black and white. Boo...
The octopus threw me for a bit of a loop. As we all know, many top-end restaurants favor more subtle, cooking school flavor profiles these days. Nothing wrong with elegance, it's just to me bold flavors get points for degree of difficulty and moxie. I like the strategy of pairing octopus with a complex flavor profile. The people who order octopus will enjoy the complexity. The fact that Chef Paley braises this ingredient with a wine cork reminds me of a Basque technique using a copper penny. One for the foodies, so to speak.
Fromage was top shelf, and the charcuterie struck me as an exploration of some of the various disciplines practiced by European charcutiers. I felt kinda funny not drinking a deep red from Priorat or Piedmont. Next time I'm going alone and that's all I'm gonna do. Just sit at a 2 top and get lost in meat and wine.
The bar surprised me in only one fashion. The conciseness of the selections (visible.) In my experience, bars that use Proof's approach (modern European) towards their mixology program tend to have huge selections of exotic spirits that no longer get touched. A natural result of making a specialty drink, having it on the menu for 3 or 6 months, and then switching the drink out without taking the spirit off the inventory. Or fully utilizing what was left. These bottles always end up bunched together in the corner farthest from the action- the forgotten misfits. No such disorganization was to be seen. The selections were very smart. It almost seemed they went out of their way to pick at least one selection that appealed to the connoisseur of that spirit. 'You like Rye? Have you ever tried (x)? Check this out....'
Their mixology aesthetic is almost the inverse of my own and I couldn't resist the temptation to engage the staff in a quick conversation while my date was in the restroom. I can tell you this: they share their knowledge enthusiastically and they keep their fingers on the upcoming trends and product releases. They made adjustments in certain cocktails, playing to my palate: egg white brought depth of texture to one offering. Another had a light, musky note that emerged on the finish. I certainly walked away with a new source of inspiration.
Excellent work.
