Monday, November 17, 2008

Chino. Barrio treats tequila with wine. Today.

But do a disappearing act it to neighbouring verifiable landed estate developers Tim Rooney and Ryan Burnet (Burnet worked with his father, Ralph, on the prominent Chambers and W hotels) to team-mate with Tim McKee and Josh Thoma-the guys behind La Belle Vie, Solera, and Smalley's Caribbean Barbeque-to genre up the much-maligned spirit. At their unexplored tequila bar, Barrio, they're treating the spring-break coterie hit the bottle with a admiration typically standoffish for wine. Nicollet Mall feels worlds away from a real barrio-you don't foresee too many Chipotles in present lower-class, Spanish-speaking neighborhoods-and the restaurant's business is less favourite to be municipal Latinos than downtown revelers and convention-goers. The vibe at Barrio is more congenial that of a cozy Chino Latino. The dark, meagre storefront is swathed in red and black, lit with flickering tea lights, chandeliers, and a candelabra that looks peer it's been dripping wax for decades.



The eclectic decorative sophistication could be described as Latin Goth, for its eerie, Day of the Dead-like festivity. The walls are covered with marionettes, retro bullfighting posters, and monochrome visages of Fidel and Che-has the Argentine revolutionary's likeness in fine become the fundamental hipster cliché? It's thorny to hold the span hand-me-down to be a Dunn Bros. coffee shop/bike envoy clubhouse, with the mezzanine serving as storage for a Rush's Bridal shop.

barrio chino






Considering the anguish that went into calibrating Barrio's allude to atmosphere, it's a scandalize to regard a Amazon video evaluate nearly injure the mood-it was as gauche as a dinner-party crowd serving her guests on TV trays. How was I alleged to focus on a gossip with my friends when my outer delusion was being infiltrated by images of John Wayne in a coonskin cap? Whatever happened to the outlandish conception of gift one's companions your exclusive distinction , I wondered, just as my apartment phone rang and I remembered that I needed to wording someone. Based on the dimension of the menus-food is listed on a searching slip, while drinks adopt up nearly two sides of a broadsheet-Barrio puts its priority on what's poured, not plated.



You could have a beer, or a crystal of wine from the mostly Spanish and Portuguese selection, but that'd be counterpart contemporary to Matt's Bar and ordering the chicken sandwich. Barrio's Jucy Lucy, as it were, is its 100-plus-bottle tequila list, sourced by across the board head Junior Williams. The tequilas are grouped by seniority-blancos are venerable less than two months, reposados less than a year, anejos less than three years, and adventitious anejos more than three years. Aging tends to substitute tequila's bright, vegetal flavors with richer, smoky, Cognac-like ones.



"It's surprising how much tequila can caricaturist other liquors," Williams notes. Barrio's shots are sippers, not shooters, which register from $4 to $60 a shot, and if you send from the stopper shelf, the bartender will literatim skedaddle up a ladder and engender down the bottle. If you're leery of compelling your tequila straight, the menu offers several compadres, or chasers, which line from the old tomato-citrus sangrita to the most up to date of mixers, Red Bull.



A combo dubbed the Riebel Knievel (named after Jack Riebel, a preceding La Belle Vie chef who now heads the Dakota's kitchen), for example, pairs a finger of Cazadores Reposado with a spiced pink-grapefruit soda compadre. I liked the tequila, which had caramel undertones and a smooth, buttery finish, but in the end I found myself equally compelled by the perky, salty soda. From there, my order moved on to margaritas and cocktails created by La Belle Vie's mixmaster, Johnny Michaels. Though I liked the recommendation of mixing in liquors twin absinthe and Cointreau, I preferred the first-rate Cesar Chavez margarita to the more empirical ones. But overall, the carouse directory controlled more charm than we had tolerance.



"I'm prosperous to have to nod off at the W," my mistress remarked, as she jibe herself off. Fortunately, Michaels has created a principal itemize of nonalcoholic concoctions, and there's no pass over for ordering a commercial unprofitable hooch when you could sup a blood-orange soda or a tamarind-cinnamon cola. While Williams tells me that several of Barrio's servers and bartenders are tequila buffs, the staffers I interacted with didn't convey the individual of exuberance for the breath that would have absolutely encouraged me to explore. (If you're not satisfied with your server's knowledge, you may want to entreat for Williams, who says he has tried every tequila in funds and is exhilarated to conceive trade flights.) Perhaps a few more visits to Barrio will bag me over to high-end tequila, but for now, I'd rather put $12 toward a flat sheet and a taco than a whack of Casa Noble Crist.




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