Soca Pub
93 Holland Ave., 613-695-9190, socapub.com
Open: Monday to Friday 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m., Saturday 11 a.m. to 3 p.m., Monday to Wednesday 5:30 to 9:30 p.m., Thursday to Saturday 5:30 to 10 p.m., Closed Sunday
Prices: small plates $12 to 20, larger plates $22 to $32
Access: steps to front door, washrooms upstairs
The Soca Pub, which opened in late November on Holland Avenue just north of the Great Canadian Theatre Company, knows how to make a good and distinctive first impression.
Each of my two visits this month to the self-described Spanish gastropub began with small, on-the-house treats delivered in quick succession. First came wee glasses of soca (sugar cane) juice, mixed with lime juice and sparkling water. Then came a plate of freshly fried arepitas, cornbread fritters dusted in this case with feta, one for each of us.
We gobbled down these tasty, signature freebies and had expectations of even better to follow. Soca did not disappoint.
Behind the woody, casual 40-seater is chef/co-owner Daniela Manrique, 27, who was born in Venezuela and lived there until she was 11. She has lived in Montreal and later in Miami, and she moved to Ottawa about six months ago with her partner, Gustavo Belisario to open Soca Pub.
Manrique’s food has lots of welcome tweaks, finesses and vivid flavours that draw from not just her homeland but from elsewhere. It’s telling that three clocks hang overhead at Soca Pub, telling the time in Ottawa, Barcelona and Caracas.
If it were up to me, I would tinker a bit with Soca’s prices and the portions here and there, shrinking the former and enlarging the latter. But of the dozen or so items I’ve tried, all were enjoyable and most were off the beaten track for Ottawa. My favourites will hopefully remain on Soca’s constantly menu to sate my cravings down the road.
Of Soca’s dozen or so small plates, I’ve tried five, and I would gladly order each again. Topping my list, but not by much, was a sumptuous dish of arroz sucio, or dirty rice ($19). This was complex, soulful, salty, comfort food, flecked with chunks of made-in-house pork sausage, sobrasada (a spicier cured pork sausage), chickpeas, and even some Venezuelan cacao.
Soca’s raw fish dishes were winners that drew on the influence and especially the peppers of Peru. Ceviche made with snapper ($16) was a refined fiesta of flavours and textures.
More minimalist was a tiradito of yellowtail ($14), which sandwiched the pristine slices of seared fish between fried capers and a tapenade-like slick on top and mound of potent rocoto pepper sauce below.
Braised and then grilled octopus tentacles ($20) were meaty and good, and the warm fingerling potato salad that came with them was better still.
Yielding veal sweetbreads ($12) filled crisp spring rolls and were served with arugula pesto, a go-to condiment for Manriques.
The menu calls Manriques’ large plate of chicken “simple,” but that’s no insult for so-moist, expertly seasoned breast meat that has been cooked sous-vide and crisped ($24). The sections of bird come with a funky, slightly tangy mash of potato and yucca, and a tomato-based “brava” sauce that packs a punch thanks to chili flakes and smoked paprika.
For red-meat lovers, Soca’s bavette ($28) was a huge, partitioned slab of well-seasoned, robustly flavoured muscle, which required some work to chew. On the side, hazelnut romesco sauce was superb.
Kale ravioli, al dente and browned, in a nice mushroom broth ($22) weren’t bad, but they were outdone by the bolder flavours of other dishes. Fideuà, vermicelli-like noodles typical of Valencia, Spain, was a saffron-tinged seafood splurge speckled with pieces of lobster and clams. The dish has clean flavours going for it, but for $32, the serving seemed small.
Instead of ordering small and large plates, lighter ways to go would have been to graze on Whalesbone oysters, and shrimp and langoustines cooked in Old Bay seasoning, or to assemble a DIY charcuterie plate, selecting from five tempting cheeses and three cured pork products. We’ve limited ourselves to slices of San David Jamon Iberico, a majestic, superior ham made in Spain from fabled acorn-fed pigs, topping crusty bread spread with tomato and garlic ($15). Simplicity again was a tremendous virtue.
I’ve ended my meals with a top-dollar dessert of rich, melting chocolate cake, flambéed with rum ($13) and with a few bites of charred, spiced, palate-cleansing pineapple ($3). Both did the trick, but the miser in me prefers the pineapple.
Add speedy, enthusiastic service and a range of intriguing cocktails to this mix, and Soca Pub emerges clearly a newcomer that’s hit the ground running, blessed with vision, flair and chops in the kitchen. I look forward to repeat visits in 2015.
phum@ottawacitizen.com
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