Bar Laurel
1087 Wellington St. W., 613-695-5559, barlaurel.ca
Open: Daily 5 p.m. to 2 a.m., Sunday brunch in the works
Prices: snacks and small plates $4 to $25, shared platters $25 to $70
Access: steps to entrance
Bar Laurel, which opened in mid-July in the heart of Hintonburg, is most definitely a bar, and a good-looking one at that.
Dispelling memories of its address’s warm and woody former tenant, the Back Lane Café, this cozy, 45-seater features a striking, back-lit array of liquor above a central bar, stylish but subdued lighting, and dark walls, including one of charred cedar. The cocktails intrigue while the wines, many by the glass, tend to the natural and bio-dynamic.
But it’s also a bar that should attract food lovers from across Ottawa.
Bar Laurel is the second project from the owners of Fauna, a sleek, two-year-old go-to for refined small plates and more in Centretown. There, chef and partner Jon Svazas proved his mettle and earned his spot at last year’s Gold Medal Plates Ottawa competition, where, out of 10 leading local chefs, he came in second.
What’s more, with Bar Laurel, Svazas applies his skills and creativity to Basque and Northern Spanish cooking, and in particular to its bar snacks called pintxos. Ottawa can definitely use more of that under-represented but delicious cuisine. In his efforts, Svazas is aided by Back Lane’s wood ovens and some additional charcoal grills.
I visited Bar Laurel three times in September and tried almost half of its 30-item menu. By and large, I was pleased and delighted by its plates, small or large, simple or complex. A few were saltier than needed. But more often, whether we were sampling pristine, exotic ingredients presented with minimum fuss, or more crafted and even deluxe kitchen creations, we received lucidly-flavoured and well-made dishes that couldn’t be had elsewhere in town.
Of course, fare like this doesn’t come cheaply. Yes, it’s food served in a bar, but we’re not talking wings and nachos. I’d say Svazas’s exotic and value-added treats are worth it, even if they involve splurging.
My only meaningful complaint about Bar Laurel is that unless you snag an early-evening window seat, you’ll need to browse the menu and admire the attractive food by the light of your cellphone. For those who, as some say, eat with their eyes, Bar Laurel can be frustrating.
The bar’s most current menu lists 20 or so pintxos and tapas, the former smaller than the latter, plus three Spanish preserved seafood items, three charcoal-grilled skewers, and two large, family-style plates that are meant, like everything else, to be shared.
Having a good, knowledgeable server, someone who can explain and recommend among the Spanish-titled items, helps. We were never let down, and staffer Liz Dunlop was especially good.
Svazas’s fondness for the food of Northern Spain, which he’s visited a few times in recent years, is such that he’s confident enough to offer fresh-off-the-leg slices of 36-month-old, acorn-fed pata negra ham in precisely weighed $25 and $50 portions with some crostini to sit on. That world-class delicacy is nearly as expensive in Spain, in case you thought there was an outrageous trans-Atlantic markup. Brimming with complex flavours, this unapologetically fatty ham of the gods was gorgeously nutty and sweet as well as meaty.
Served almost as succinctly was a tin of razor clams ($25) — sweet and clear of flavour, clean of grit and none the worse after being preserved in their brine — accompanied by roasted cherry tomatoes and crostini.
Just as simple were shishito peppers ($8), salted and oiled and roasted so that the oil picked up their distinctive flavour. An even more special pepper, the thin, preserved Spanish guindilla, appeared with anchovy and olive in the classically pintxo called Gilda ($4 for two), fancied up by Svazas with a cocktail onion and preserved orange.
Croquettes of Iberian ham ($12 for two) were delicious, molten, impeccably fried and paired with a punchy salsa verde that cut their richness. Another triumphant starch-sauce combo was patatas bravas ($6) — perfect cubes of potato topped with a red, creamy sauce rich with smoked paprika.
Meatballs of dry-aged beef ($9 for three) were moist, loose and flavour-packed, and they came in an honest, mellow, roasted tomato sauce.
The only pintxo I questioned was a serving of fried eggplant with burnt honey and yogurt ($8). Its saltiness, sweetness and tanginess seemed to fight each other, although a friend had no qualms.
All of the grilled, skewered items were winners, although be warned that they were more snacked-sized than, say, beef or chicken kabobs at Middle Eastern or Central Asian eateries in town. Halloumi cheese was grilled nicely on one skewer ($10), but better was the simply seasoned lamb ($12) and best was the rich, tender “secreto de Ibérico,” a supreme butcher’s cut of pork ($18).
Grilled octopus with kale, fennel and warm fingerling potatoes ($18) was a nicely composed, smoky plate, and verged on a main course in terms of variety and heft.
Of Bar Laurel’s two large plates, I had a clear favourite.
While a half-chicken ($25) was flavourful, very moist and well sauced, I wished for crisp skin.
Admittedly expensive at $70, but exceptional was the 80-day dry-aged, 20-ounce ribeye steak with demi-glace, salsa verde, fingerlings, enoki mushrooms and broccolini. Decadently and extensively marbled with chewy but tasty fat, and funkily flavoured in its concentrated beefiness, the steak wouldn’t be for everyone. But it definitely satisfied the connoisseur carnivores at our table.
The fortunate flip-side of not being filled up by small plates is having room for dessert. We tried two of three, and were wowed. Chocolate mousse adorned with candied almonds and roasted peaches ($12) was quickly and happily devoured. Warm Basque cheesecake ($12), made of goat cheese and mascarpone was phenomenal — light, fluffy, tangy, sweet. The dessert agnostic at our table was won over, and raved about it.
Svazas told me his cheesecake was inspired by a similar creation at La Viña, a pintxos bar in San Sebastián, the Basque city that’s an eating mecca for many a foodie, including me.
I don’t know when I’ll next get back to San Sebastián, but until then, I have the pintxos and more at Bar Laurel as a mighty consolation.
phum@postmedia.com
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Peter Hum’s previous restaurant reviews
