For one, the mountain of Bar Harbor mussels exploded in a curried cream broth with kimchi and house-smoked bacon, which our table mopped up with warm toasted bread. We even asked for spoons. Then, we kept with seafood on the small plates to share, enjoying plump tentacles of Long Island squid, grilled with Spanish flavors of romesco, olives, and chorizo, as well as a generous helping of New Orleans crab, diced with avocado and seasoned with old bay and lime.
The entrées were designed to accompany the shared plates, not the other way around. But the thick-cut, 16 oz. Berkshire pork chop, was quite literally the largest I’d ever seen and one of the juiciest I’d ever tried. Sipping on my second jarred cocktail, I joyfully carved pass-around slices for my fellow diners like serving a Thanksgiving turkey.
The wild menu left us feeling a bit saucier than usual. We extended our night into The Handy Liquor Bar downstairs, where we were reminded both then, and the morning after, that we are climbing the final summit of our twenties and about to reach the peak. Yes, it hurt, but we had a fun time. Maybe it was the little bit of energy we needed.