How do you like your meat? Hanging in a massive glass cabinet on meat hooks? No? Don’t knock it ’till you try it!
Welcome to Cured, a restaurant I have been dying to try since moving to the city in September. Yesterday, my friend, Katie, and I decided to do some exploring and had a late lunch at this hip and happening establishment.
Walking through the double doors is like a time machine to the early 1900s. The first thing your eyes meat (pun intended), is a glass container full of different kinds of meat in various stages of the curing process. It really adds a lot to the hipster “old vs new” vibe, and despite meat hooks and cleavers, there is a surprising lack of Upton Sinclair vibes a la Jungle. Original penny tiles add to the vintage feel.
We were seated next to a floor to ceiling window, happily bathed in early afternoon light. San Antonio decided that a little taste of summer would be a nice change for a day or two. Sunny and 78 degrees…..in February! This California hippy is happy.
Our waiter came by for our drink order.
Dark and smokey in the initial sip, finishing in a lovely and light sweet note.
The Cured for me.
Easy, easy drinking. Give me an old colonial house with a wrap around porch, rocking chairs, and hanging flower baskets. Light and airy throughout with a slightly sour thread.
Soon after, our charcuterie plate arrived.
The accompaniment was a spicy and sweet pepper jam, delightfully tangy mustard, and curried cauliflower.
We decided to order the two most popular lunch items and split them.
I ordered the Blue Ribbon Burger. Now I’m not much of a burger person….that general feeling of malaise that follows burger consumption is reserved for very special occasions, but this burger sounded like it would be worth the pain. And oh nellie…..was it ever.
And on the 8th day, God created the heavenly river of cheese. And it was good. Too good, now reserved for the Garden of Cheese-den.
Katie ordered the refined and quite fascinating Smoked Salmon Rueben. An odd combination, the strong fish taste is perfectly balanced by the aggressive flavors of Deutchland…sauerkraut.
Our lovely waiter returned for us, likely noticing the food coma we were beginning to succumb to. “I’ve been trying to delay you until three o’clock,” he happily states, “that’s when our happy hour begins!”
“Dear God….” I thought to myself, “this man is trying to murder us.” And as tempting as half-priced specialty cocktails is, we opted for a stroll along the riverwalk instead.
Moral of this food fairytale, if you have not been Cured, you need to be….immediately. Grab your suspenders and pocket watch and hop on over to the pearl brewery.
Whoever stated the above, I salute you.