When tiny
Central first opened a little over a year ago,
it was planned as something of a craft-cocktail hipster speakeasy,
unmarked and secreted away in a narrow back alley of otherwise
chaotically drunken, frat-heavy Old Town. The crepes served out of the
sidewalk window—an upmarket clone of owner Dustin Knox’s Perierra
Crêperie cart on Southeast 12th and Hawthorne—provided frontage for the
dim, windmill-fanned and taxidermy-bedecked parlor bar lurking behind a
short hallway and black curtains.
Central has since
opened out in more ways than one. The curtains are sidelined, there’s
outdoor seating on a newly closed section of Ankeny Street and the
crepes have been scotched in favor of a diverse small-plates menu by
talented former Fenouil chef Jake Martin.
Martin’s
kitchen debuted this July with a nearly flawless summer menu, with hot
and cold plates ranging from an equal-weighted pairing of decadent
lobster and even more decadent gnocchi to a tweaked variation of a
caprese salad with anchovies acting as sly, bitter-salty counterweight
to the fresh heirloom tomatoes, basil and Manchego cheese.
The autumn menu,
which arrived mid-October, retains almost nothing from its predecessor
except its guiding philosophy: forging unlikely harmony from simple
elements, with esoteric accents to the otherwise familiar. Really, it’s
as if Martin—much like a Thai chef—is trying to touch each quadrant of
your tongue with every dish.
So
savory, salty Dungeness crab ($10) is tarted up with pomegranate,
sweetened by vanilla, peppered by mustardy mizuna leaf. An achingly
tender rabbit ($13) is spiced with kale, bittersweetened by candied
garlic. The standout tuna crudo ($10), one of the few holdovers from
summer, is accented through subtle aromatics in the manner of a good
gin: subtly touched by miso, shiso, radish and cucumber. Generally, this
all works wonderfully: The ingredients themselves have become spices,
while the spices are left refreshingly Spartan. Or, if you prefer, it’s
food as cocktail, which in a cocktail bar is appropriate enough.
An
endive and pickled blueberry “bite” ($4), nonetheless, was refined
almost out of existence. The pickling serves to dim—almost, indeed, to
sublimate—the blueberry’s signature flavor, so that eating it is almost
like inhaling perfume. (Although, who knows, maybe that’s your thing.) A
petite pasta with pancetta, chili and poached duck egg ($12)—sort of a
rich man’s carbonara—is also overpowered a bit by the curing of the
meat. These are, however, small complaints. Note, too, that “small
plates” is a very accurate description: Four dishes shared by two will
gently sate, but not fill.
The cocktails—headed
up by bar manager Daniel Osborne—are already much vaunted, and the
shelves and menu run deep. Nothing pretends to come cheap (drinks range
from $8 to $13), but this is because the ingredients come straight out
of an overhead-be-damned fantasy dreambook, obscure enough to demand a
glossary. The list is replete with cachacas and demeraras, Becherovkas
and Cynars, applejacks and Cherry Heerings (this last one is fishily
misspelled on the menu).
So
tell the bartender what you like, then ask for a recommendation. Treat
it like the overprivileged little boutique it is. Those who prefer the
simple, however, will be well served by the highballs, in particular the
city’s best Pimm’s Cup (a gin-based liqueur, mixed here with lemon soda
and ginger beer) and the improbably tasty, herbal pairing of absinthe
and Sparky’s root beer (both $8). The standards—vodka soda, gin and
tonic—cut very little price break because of the bar’s habit of charging
a separate $2 for artisan water, so don’t bother as you’re in the wrong
place for that sort of thing anyway. Richness, here, is all.
- Order this: Tuna crudo, braised rabbit or squash, and a highball.
- Best deal: Highballs are a cool fiver between 5 and 7 pm. Otherwise, the menu focuses much more on costliness than cost.
- I’ll pass: How about I just offer a free pass instead? Best food you’ll ever get after midnight in this town.
EAT: Central, 220 SW Ankeny St. 5 pm-2:30 am Monday-Saturday. $$-$$$.
