Ritz Bites

Bar Covell: The Right New Neighborhood Wine Bar

Here's what I wrote about the new Bar Covell in this week's Gold Standard newsletter for the LA Weekly. (Gentle reminder: if you're not subscribed yet -- you can do so here.)

The team behind Bar Covell is all too familiar with the city's red tape. But after jumping through endless hoops -- building inspections, permits and licenses -- the new wine bar finally opened its doors in what was formerly a traffic school facility at the eastern edge of Hollywood Boulevard. Owner Dustin Lancaster (formerly of Café Stella) tells us he wants Bar Covell to be a place for "people to come together" in a space that feels "lived in, rustic and industrial." Reclaimed materials, such as the bar surface which once had a previous life attached to a barn in Kentucky, and artfully placed antique tsotchkes (cameras, pages torn from an antique encyclopedia Lancaster bought in Buenos Aires, a motorbike) help imbue the place with a sense of the past. With an emphasis on affordability, Lancaster and bar manager/wine director Matthew Kaner (Silverlake Wine) hope to "open up the conversation about wines and challenge people." The salvaged window casements doubling as blackboards have space to list only six wines, so that's how many are served by the glass. But what Lancaster calls the "hybrid wine tasting and wine list" arrangement means that any bottle is essentially fair game for by-the-glass pours. And more importantly, the staff is determined to direct customers to wines they'll like even if a requested variety isn't listed. Eight beer taps will satisfy craft beer enthusiasts. The rotating selection ranges from the locals (Solidarity by Eagle Rock Brewery, Palomino Pale from Bootlegger's in Fullterton), to a few imported options. A "light fare" of cheeses, charcuterie, and a vegetable dish or two selected by Heirloom L.A. are coming next week.

A glass of L. Preston blend fit the mood at the end of an oddly chilly July 4th weekend. I'm looking forward to see what Bar Covell has in store, and already have plans to go back next week. Given how often I make it out to bars these days, that says a lot about a place.

And back to the part about City of L.A.'s red tape: talking to Lancaster about what he's had to go through was an interesting reminder of the disconnect between what the pols say about encouraging local business development, and what it actually takes to get a new venture off the ground. It's alarming and incredibly frustrating; and a longer story for some other time.

Bar Covell: 4628 Hollywood Blvd.; Los Feliz; (323) 660-4400

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Consumed: St-Germain

Elegant fluted bottle. Stunning graphic and package design. Art Nouveau/Fin de siècle France-inspired styling. Tasty liquor contained within. Sold!

Despite being a hopeless consumer, it's usually not my thing to rave here about specific commercial products. But here goes my Rob Walker-esque tip of the hat to St-Germain elderflower liqueur's entry into the American marketplace.

It's the most brilliant branding, marketing, and ad campaign I've seen in quite some time. I first heard about it through a mixologist I interviewed, and then started noticing the stuff popping up in restaurants. From what best I can tell, the marketing folks figured how best to get the product into able hands of skilled practitioners at respectable places. Programs like the Bartender Exchange and recipe competition help build the product's street cred (or bar cred?) and get it used properly. Then they let it trickle down to the rest of us. Then there's probably some Kim-Kardashian-posing-with-a- St-Germain-bottle-at-a-red-carpet-event type of tactics.

Elderflower liqueur wasn't necessarily non-existent in the U.S., it was just obscure. A few years ago I could only find it in the food marketplace section of Ikea when we tried to replicate vermont's Edelweiss martini. This is hardly the most extreme or exotic ingredient; mass-marketing a floral, sweet alcoholic ingredient that can serve as a more pungent simple syrup makes perfect sense. And the ads and packaging are just so damn pretty. The product offers the retro aesthetic appeal of absinthe, minus the opaline glow and mythic effects.

Having considered buying a bottle for a while, the retro courtesan photo postcard insert ad in Food & Wine finally won me over. And after watching Moulin Rouge this week, I was extra primed to totally give in to the New Year's campaign. So now I have my bottle at the ready to make St-Germain enhanced champagne cocktails and toast like it's 1899. 

Friends at the Bar: Rustic Canyon

The reasons to haul out to Rustic Canyon on Wilshire and 12th Street are plenty: this chic yet cozy restaurant is named for the ONLY Westside neighborhood I'd move to, our friend Jon is the mixologist, and it's owned by a fellow Crossrodian.  We took our chances driving across town on a Thursday night to nab one of the highly sought after bar stools, but it was worth the risk.   

Sitting with friends and Jon as he kept the bar going and we sampled Rustic Canyon's food and drink =  bonus.   

I took my time with the Indochine, a sweet prosecco-based drink with a light tang of ginger and lemongrass, since I allowed myself just one libation (o.k., plus a bunch of tiny sips).  In my previous life I would've sucked it down and made my way through many of the other drinkies, none of which you can go wrong with -- as long as effervescent white wines agree with you. 

Favorite dishes included the bowl of skinny crispy fries, wild snapper ceviche, intense mussels, and fried green tomatoes with burrata, which is quite substantial and fatty but not greasy. 

After the savory foods were gone, the bar was crowded with desserts -- Gaviota strawberry shortcake, peach cobbler, and the marshmallow-blanketed rocky road bread pudding.  All very large portions (almost too large, if there is such a thing)  and made with the bestest, freshest ingredients.

No more being at a loss about where to eat in Santa Monica.  Now, if only a similar place called Bronson Canyon would open on Franklin Avenue...

Rustic Canyon
1119 Wilshire Blvd.
Santa Monica, CA 90401
310.393.7050

FLLW To-Go and other post-weekend questions

What kind of shitty hostess am I?  We invite people over for dinner at our house and then they bring the main dish.  Because our friends Andy and Jennifer worked so hard to make this incredible "blog worthy" dinner for us, I must sing their praises.  Andy too follows the good book of Steve Raichlen in all matters grill-related, and this tandoori chicken is no exception.  I learned the red which we generally associate with the dish often comes from food coloring; it's definitely not a naturally occurring result of the spices in the recipe.  Plus the spicy coriander walnut sauce kicked ass.  Anyone who uses Raichlen's books should take note: the sauce and lamb make a fantastic pair, too.  I also used it to spice up steamed carrots a couple nights later.

But even if I felt guilty, I admit it's pretty sweet to not to sweat the big stuff and just take care of the wines, soup, dessert, cleaning up, and miscellaneous tidbits.   

Is it just me, or does anyone else find it both strange and cool that designers of take-out containers seem to be inspired by Frank Lloyd Wright? 

My onion rings from Birds came packaged in a Styrofoam (boo) box that reminded me of the iconic Coonley Playhouse art glass window designs.  I'm sure the great man would be, um, honored to see his influence manifested in such humble of places. Damn, I just met E.L. Wright; I should've asked him. 

Wright gear is merchandised up the yin yang, but this I haven't seen in any gift shops yet. 

And on a sassier and more annoying note, what's up with this sample of "group of global style setters [for whom] ordering ros is a sign of being in the know"?  These enology enthusiasts are clutching glasses of must-serve-super-chilled wine by the bowl as if they're about to shatter the stemware into 1,000 pieces. 

At the risk of sounding like an asshole snobby anti-snob who maintains a strong love/hate relationship with the Sunday Styles section (ahem), I ask: was the wine served to them frozen?  Or do they like bringing it to room temp?  I wonder what Kermit Lynch makes of the young and beautiful sophisticates downing the wonderful Domaine Tempier Bandol he distributes.  Eh, business is business I suppose.  And I better drink my bottle of 2004 sooner-ish than later, trend or no trend.