I feel completely ashamed that it's taken over a year of living on Capitol Hill to dub The Hopvine as the perfect neighborhood pub. Thank god it's pleasantly missing the "cool" factor this snob has come to dread.
It was moving week, and the mister and I were famished. We knew we needed to eat before we took another load to our new place, so we decided to head up to VIOS in Madison Park. They were closed (note: VIOS only breakfast and lunch). So we then drove by The Kingfish Cafe, one of our favorite (though gastronomically challenging) places to eat. Closed.
So we drove back to 15th and settled on The Hopvine because 1) we found a parking spot right in front of it and 2) we've been meaning to try it - and it did NOT disappoint us.
I am a snob, yes. But my mister is the beer snob. The Hopvine delivered us a tasty pour of some respectable breweries (Baron Oktoberfest and Big ALHop Soup), plus AMAZING SOUP.
I know, totally random that this dive would have gourmet soups, but I tell you - the soup here was way better than anything we tasted at LARK (see review here) for way cheaper. The mister had a tequila, bacon, and juniper soup whereas I vacillated between the melon gazpatcho and the chanterelle mushroom soup and finally settled for the later. So friggen tasty! To compliment our delicious beers and soups, we also ordered the greek pizza, which was also very good...but honestly, we could have been fat and happy on just beer and soup.
I vowed never to go back to Smith again.It was the great snow storm of 2008, and all the restaurants on Capitol Hill were so busy one could barely secure a table anywhere.Because driving was an equally impossible task, all manner of people were walking to any foodery they could find.When QFC’s shelves started to empty, the panic set in.
This is the general hysteria into which I walked when attempting to go to Smith.Not only was there truly cacophonous clamor evading from the doors, but there was no space to wait for our table inside, out of the snow-covered ground.Granted, we had a group of 6, but even a group of 2 was being quoted a 1.5 hour wait.We went on to 22 Doors and squished into a booth and had a less than amazing time, disgruntled as we were by frostbite and Smith rejection.
I am rather glad that I decided to give Smith another chance.I decided to meet my lovely friend in crime (with whom I’ve gallivanted all over town in a weekly search for an authentic German pub) for happy hour.I opened the doors that once kicked me on the way out and noticed immediately the wonderful din of quiet conversation and beer swigging.
Our bartender was awesome!He managed to keep our lovely Belgians filled and recommend some saucy episodes of South Park…and I don’t even watch South Park.I am the kind of beer drinker that actually likes talking to bartenders, and he knew precisely where to interject in our conversation and when to get lost.I really the underrated the social prowess of a good barkeep, for surely a bartender is just as much a sociologist, psychologist, and philosopher as he is a drink slinger.
Truly one of their most wonderful assets is their menu.The happy hour prices were totally reasonable; I tried the macaroni and peas*. My side-kick ordered the great sweet potato fries with a sage aioli that was dangerously tasty.My mister arrived sometime later and ordered the pork loin…and that was some tasty swine.
First impressions are hard to break. Though I have come around to appreciate what Smith has to offer Capitol Hill, I will never forgive a place that does not attend to the noise-factor in initial design.I was there when Smith was both obnoxiously loud and pleasantly vacant and in either case, the open-room design is their fatal flaw.
Bottom Line
Smith, you are forgiven.Your beer, service, and eats demand respect…but only on Wednesday afternoon at 4:30pm.
the secret snob
*DISCLAIMER:Though I am a self-proclaimed and proud snob, I do not deny my white trash upbringing and consequential subconscious gravitational pull towards said cuisine.
