Coffee versus tea.
Really divides people into two camps: incredibly right and incredibly wrong.
But let’s just dump them both into some alcohol and get on with it.
That’s a thing that happens at The Wallace, a charming new after-dark spot that never met some coffee that couldn’t use some scotch, opening next Saturday on Main Street.
Step inside, and it’s like you got invited to a dinner party at some graphic designer’s condo—it’s a bright space littered with pictures of bikes and bottles, under a stripped ceiling speckled with glowing bulbs.
Start your dinner date—right: you’re probably here on a dinner date—at the brushed-steel bar, summoning impressive creations like Earl Grey gin with pistachio foam and coffee-infused scotch with cognac and chocolate-chili bitters. And then you’ll... continue doing that. No need to rush this part. Clearly.
But eventually, you’ll make your way past the communal tables to a two-top next to the open kitchen. If your date shuns the charred lamb leg, barbecue duck confit and salmon belly, it’s fine—there’s plenty of braised white-bean sofrito and roasted cumin-honey carrots.
No need to rush the cumin-honey carrot part either, really.
Really divides people into two camps: incredibly right and incredibly wrong.
But let’s just dump them both into some alcohol and get on with it.
That’s a thing that happens at The Wallace, a charming new after-dark spot that never met some coffee that couldn’t use some scotch, opening next Saturday on Main Street.
Step inside, and it’s like you got invited to a dinner party at some graphic designer’s condo—it’s a bright space littered with pictures of bikes and bottles, under a stripped ceiling speckled with glowing bulbs.
Start your dinner date—right: you’re probably here on a dinner date—at the brushed-steel bar, summoning impressive creations like Earl Grey gin with pistachio foam and coffee-infused scotch with cognac and chocolate-chili bitters. And then you’ll... continue doing that. No need to rush this part. Clearly.
But eventually, you’ll make your way past the communal tables to a two-top next to the open kitchen. If your date shuns the charred lamb leg, barbecue duck confit and salmon belly, it’s fine—there’s plenty of braised white-bean sofrito and roasted cumin-honey carrots.
No need to rush the cumin-honey carrot part either, really.
