Prohibition Refined Cocktails & Cuisine

He said:

The Prohibition was a lot of fun. The restaurant, I mean, not the era. We entered to find ourselves transported back 100 years to a quaint, small Antiques and Oddities shop, full of an eclectic mix of wares and décor that included jewelry, a phonograph, a trumpet, books, various 1920’s fashion apparel, a Victorian sofa, a sled, a pair of wooden skis, and a stuffed owl, among many other items. Although charming, it led my wife to ask the lady in the flapper dress where we could find the restaurant. I whispered to her that we had obviously encountered a speakeasy and would need to show credentials to gain access to the hidden entrance. Indeed, as the Prohibition is a bar as well as a restaurant, we had to present our IDs to the hostess. She then revealed a hidden door disguised as a bookcase, and led us into the dining area.

The dining room maintained the speakeasy illusion. The room was lit only by dim, hanging lightbulbs of various vintage designs that featured visible filaments. The dimness, somehow romantic instead of gloomy, fit well with the restaurant’s theme. Copper-painted ceiling beams matched the copper-plated table at which we sat. A silent Chaplin film projected onto a screen on the wall.

As I perused the menu—produced from a QR code scanned by my phone—I found a section for “Placebos”, which featured a double handful of non-alcoholic beverages, each with enticing names and descriptions. This reminded me of the EANABs (pronounced EE-nabs) tradition that came out of Stanford in the 1960’s. In order to support students who didn’t want to face pressure to drink alcohol, the university instituted a rule that applied to all events that included alcohol. These events were also required to serve non-alcoholic drinks, and not just water or soft drinks. They had to have offerings that were “equally attractive” to the alcohol being served. Thus, they created both the EANABs acronym and its tradition of Equally Attractive Non-Alcoholic Beverages.

I wish more restaurants would provide a selection of interesting non-alcoholic drinks. Sometimes they have page after page of alcoholic options, but most provide only the basic soft drinks for teetotalers. Not the Prohibition, though. They had a selection abundant enough to make my choice difficult. Eventually, I settled on a Saloon Smasher: blood orange, lemon, and plum bitters, topped with soda. Kathy chose Eliot’s Mess: passionfruit and sprite, topped with hibiscus. I reflected on the ironic pairing of our drinks to our personalities: sweet-ol’ me choosing the bitter drink, with Kathy taking the sweet one. Huh. (Something makes me suspect that Kathy didn’t see any irony at all in it, though.)

Eventually, I moved on to the food portion of the menu. The Prohibition offers Brunch and Dinner. The appetizers, soups, salads, and sandwiches from the Dinner menu are always available, while the entrees begin after 4:00. Again, I found so many enticing options that I struggled to settle on just one. The Poutine quickly caught my eye. This French-Canadian food was a common part of Kathy’s upbringing. Of course, she judges Poutine by its ethno-accuracy, while I appreciate some of the progressive embellishments we sometimes find in the US. So, I was excited to give it a try. I ordered the Chicken Fried Steak, and upgraded the hashbrowns to the Poutine.

My food was perfectly cooked. The chorizo gravy on the Chicken Fried Steak was tasty and not too spicy. The Poutine unfortunately disappointed me. I didn’t mind that they used sweet potato fries, but they only included a scant portion of toppings. The cheese curds were few, and the thick gravy was actually a seven-cheese Mornay sauce that seemed a token offering on top rather than smothering the fried sweet potatoes. I didn’t mind the bits of bacon, though Kathy might have found them a blasphemy of tradition. I would have offered her a taste, but if they disappointed me, I knew they weren’t going to please her.

She said:

Forgetting where we were going for lunch, I was immediately confused upon opening the door and being greeted by a gift shop. A young lady was seated on a sofa (she was wearing a burgundy and black, fringed flapper dress), and I said to her, “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought we were entering a restaurant. We must have opened the wrong door.” That’s when Brian leaned over to me and said, “We’re in a speakeasy. There’s probably a secret door.” Then the hostess led us through a door that was also a book case. Ah . . .

My impression of Prohibition is very favorable. Black walls. Some copper-topped tables, while others were made from Verde Butterfly granite. (Yes, I’m an interior decorating geek and know things like this). Tiffany-style lamps. Vintage telephones and photos of anti-prohibition protests. The place was dark, but not gloomy. Intimate and comfortable, but classy. The ambiance was great. I was charmed by it all.

The menu held a lot of promise, based on the photos and descriptions. I was practically salivating in anticipation. Finally, I opted for the Green Eggs dish. Three poached eggs each sat atop a mashed potato pancake, avocado, bacon, and green hollandaise sauce. The sauce—made with Anaheim peppers, cilantro, garlic, green salsa, and lime—was a bit peculiar, but delicious. It tasted simultaneously a bit tart, savory, and acidic. I was very satisfied with my choice. I only wish it hadn’t sat under a heat lamp for so long, as it had cooled a bit. (Facing the kitchen, I watched many orders sit too long before being served). Oh, and I’d ordered the “placebo” called “Eliot’s Mess”. Made from passionfruit, Sprite, and Hibiscus, it was pretty tasty. And don’t let Brian fool you: I’m every bit as sweet as my drink. I just have a little kick to my personality!

Now, about Brian’s Poutine: what passes for Poutine at Prohibition is NOT close to being the iconic French-Canadian dish. Authentic Poutine includes hand-cut, homestyle fries, lots of curds, and a drenching of rich, savory gravy. Yes, I’m a purist, and the dish is best prepared and served in its truest, simplest, original form. No fancy-schmancy embellishments or reinventions will do.

Conclusion:

Prohibition pairs good food with creative drinks and an enchanting theme that took us back to a bygone era.