Bar Pilar

Even without my family and friends making fun of my food snobbery, I know I can be critical.  Sometimes it seems that I can’t find anywhere new to add to my standard rotation of reliable restaurants, and I wonder if it’s just me.  Maybe I have to (eek) lower my standards?  But lately – just in time to assuage my panic – I’ve had a streak of excellent meals at Bar Pilar.  I have many friends who lament the passing of tater tots and tacos from the menu at the dark, moody bar, but I only began eating there after it switched to an Italian-informed small-plates menu.  My first experience was right after the menu changed, and it was head turning.  Each bite coming out of the kitchen was fresh and inspired, from the thinly-shaved yellow beets with pine nuts and goat cheese to the luscious chicken liver pâté served with crisped toast rounds.  And in a city of overpriced food, it was reasonable!  And open on Sundays and Mondays!  And near my house!  But after a few visits, I found myself not quite as enthralled.  Which isn’t to say anything was bad, it just wasn’t as exceptional as it had been previously.  And it fell out of rotation as one of my regular dining spots.

I kept going back, once a month or so, hoping that I would again find comfort in its dishes.  What can I say – I’m stubborn.  But my persistence has paid off (ha HA!), because my last five meals or so there, spread out over several months, have started turning my head once again.

One thing that I love about Bar Pilar is its intimacy. Bar Pilar is named after Ernest Hemingway’s boat, and the pervasive feeling in the place brings to mind a polished, gently-trodden pub in an old port town.  Its not quite so dark that I can’t see my dinner companion across the dark wood, bar-height table, or read the book I bring along when alone, but the candlelit dimness is inviting – even cozy – on a wind-whipped, rainy Sunday in November. I’ve heard that the narrow, 40-seat dining room is packed on the weekends and at brunch, but I’m usually there on Sunday and Monday evenings, when there are only a handful of tables and a handful of staff, a handful of people at the bar drinking a pint or watching the game that’s unobtrusively playing on the TV overhead.  And Edward, the affable server who seems to never have a night off (thankfully for us), watches over his tables with a laid-back – yet thoughtfully attentive – demeanor.

The small plates range in price from $4-$10, with most of the dishes at the lower end being more akin to appetizers, and the higher end, entrees.  There are also a surprising amount of vegetarian dishes on the menu.  Some of my enduring favorites are the olive oil potatoes with pimenton aioli, which are as simple as they sound and a great replacement for the old tater tots, and the pork belly (its latest version with poblano, kiwi berries and cilantro).  Now I’ve had pork belly at many of the finer establishments in town, but with this incarnation’s perfectly crispy top layer and slightly sweet, succulent pork meat underneath, I’d have to rank this as my favorite version.  Another good bet would be whatever seasonal soup is on the menu – the butternut squash soup with goat cheese was supple and rich without being overly sweet.  Pilar always has a charcuterie plate and a cheese plate, each with three elements ($11).  The types of charcuterie and cheeses offered are never too unusual but always interesting enough to please the young urban hipsters (YURPSTERS?) who dine – one recent plate had charcuterie of Toscana salami, soppresata, and proscuitto, and the cheeses available were Grafton cheddar, Hook’s bleu and Sweetgrass Cambembert.

On my last visit in particular, I enjoyed the ribeye steak with celeriac puree, chickweed salad and lemon-almond pesto.  The juicy steak was perfectly cooked to medium-rare and the lemon-almond pesto (though it sounded odd) added just the right edge of brightness.  The pork confit with cilantro and fennel was another marvel – each bite of oh-so-tender shredded pork burst with zesty capers, a touch of anise and just a suggestion of some indecipherable spice.  Even though pork is not something I usually tend toward, it is often a good choice in the hands of Chef de Cuisine Josh Whigham (who runs the kitchen at Pilar while Executive Chef Barton Seaver handles sister restaurant two doors down, Café Saint-Ex).  That said, I didn’t enjoy the pork loin with duxelle & lemon-almond pesto quite as much as Chef Whigham’s typical pork dishes.  The pesto made another appearance, but this time didn’t mesh quite as well, and both B and I found the loin to be a little dry.  Even the dishes that don’t quite make it on my list of favorites are enjoyable, though, like the turnip hash with butternut squash, cilantro and pumpkin seeds. The addition of pumpkin seeds made for a pleasing texture, almost enough to overcome the under-seasoning and lack of exciting flavors in the dish.

The desserts at Bar Pilar are billed as “three-bite tastes”, and at $3 each it’s easy to order several to avoid having to choose between them.  On our last visit, B and I were partial to both the chocolate mousse and the lemon and olive oil cake with candied lemon zest, which were comforting without being boring.  The caramel gelato with almond biscotti bits and the almond panna cotta were good as well (we did finish every bit of them) but nothing noteworthy.  Although I’ve had a standout or two, desserts are not the strongest area at Pilar, and I wholeheartedly recommend ordering a few, if at least just to hedge your bets.   

It would seem that one of the biggest problems Pilar would have is in balancing atop the fence between bar and restaurant.  Yet it’s a line that they manage to maneuver well in both food and atmosphere.  There is a beer list befitting a good ol’ bar (including such makers as Wolaver’s, Otter Creek and Allagash), yet an eclectic and large enough wine list (with about 8 selections available by the glass, priced between $4-$12) and martini list (with a Pomegranate Martini and a carafe of White Sangria, among others) to succeed at an upscale-ish neighborhood restaurant.  That doesn’t mean that problems don’t exist within the dual-identity restaurant.  As of my last visit, one of my biggest pet peeves is that Bar Pilar doesn’t offer coffee – although they will pour you a cup from their staff pot. Since I’ve had to switch to decaf for health reasons, it’s kind of a pain in the ass to have to go elsewhere for my post-dinner cup.  The other time this division may be too wide to cross would be in the late evenings, between the dinner hour and the time to get sloshy – I wouldn’t recommend going for a quiet dinner after 9:00, say.  But, I really wouldn’t go to Pilar’s sister restaurant, Saint-Ex, quite that late either.  It seems the best nights for dining at Bar Pilar would be early in the week, when the atmosphere in her close quarters may be a bit calmer.

It’s amazing to think that a little bar unobtrusively tucked away on 14th Street is doing such wonderful things with food.  I mean, how many neighborhood joints are serving grilled eel?  Bar Pilar has become a standard in my regular rotation of restaurants, a place where I always look forward to discovering something new.   I’ve had some exquisite dishes in the past few months, and some overall lovely meals.  So lately, whenever the wind starts up and the air is damp, and I feel like hunkering down and going unnoticed by the busy world, I find myself a dark corner table at Bar Pilar.

Bar Pilar
1833 14th Street, NW
Washington, DC 20009
202.265.1751
info@barpilar.com

Comments

[Brian]

_. Yes, I agree with the post...keep the comments coming...

[Metrocurean]

The Brussels sprouts were fantastic at Pilar last night, carmerlized with shallots.

And I got to watch the 6 snow flurries we had from the window. *sigh*

[goodiegirl]

Happy to see that your blog is available now! I will have to check your recommendations before my next DC happy hour. ;)
Best,