THE MODERN HOTEL AND BAR
Despite its scenester status, the Modern Hotel and Bar is still a somewhat unknown beast to many. Even for some sitting at the bar in the Linen District's boutique hotel. On First Thursday, with the notes of locals Ned Evett and Bill Coffey wafting in from open glass doors, I stood at the bar to place a food order. Laying eyes on my menu, the guy next to me said, "They have food here? And they do music? And the people in the rooms just put up with it ... or wait, is this actually a hotel?" Yes, yes, yes and yes. I put in a food order, as well as an order for another Ashley in Exile - a potion of peach-kissed gin with elderflower liqueur and Riesling - and slunk back to base camp in a corner of the bar. The patio crowd was thick enough to relegate those of us who wanted a table inside. However, as the night wore on, inside - where retro chic in pale yellow and light blue chill under a chorus line of hanging, painted white antlers - was the place to be.
While the Modern has a reputation as a destination, few mention its food among the reasons. For the devoted meat-andpotatoes type, the Modern's menu has a few gaping holes. For those who overlook that, a few nice surprises wait.
The Asian salad ($11) is among the successes. A coiled nest of purple cabbage, julienned jalapenos and carrots, and whole cilantro, the salad does it like more salads should do: dispenses with the lettuce. A quartet of prawns marched in a straight line up and over the ensemble and cashews tumbled out of the veggies. For summer, it's an ideal dish. Better for winter was the roast beef, mozzarella and arugula panini ($9), which was rich and filling. We awarded it extra bonus points for the arugula.
Starters of guacamole ($9) and olives ($5) fell squarely in the land of potential. The mound of mashed avocado was just slightly off in consistency and rather than standing on its own for flavor, relied on a few stripes of Sriracha and sour cream sauce to get the job done. The guac was good stuff, though, and ultimately it was only the flat, round, functional chips that needed improvement. Olives marinees arrived piled into a dish measuring 1-foot by 1-inch. We harpooned herbed and marinated large and baby green olives - some stuffed, some not - and the occasional kalamata with wooden skewers. While they were ideal for all-night snacking for our group, I expected a more sophisticated olive choice - maybe EVOO-soaked, pit-in Spanish olives - than the supermarket olive bar standard.
Sophisticated, however, showed up for dessert ($8). Two bars of melting absinthe ice cream, each bisected with a layer of fudgy chocolate cookie crumbs, stole the whole show. Like the Ashley in Exile ($7.50), the flavors were a study in subtlety. Mint and licorice lurked but neither bragged about being there. I'd rank it as the most unique dessert in town and recommend not only finishing your night with it, but maybe starting there as well.
- Rachael Daigle almost called in absinthe to work.
Amid minimalist decor, low booths, acrylic tables and Eames-style wooden chairs, the recent addition of food to the Modern Hotel and Bar fits in like an Eero Saarinen side table. It's not prey to the whims of molecular gastronomy nor is it too much of a nod to vintage. It is instead food in which the sum is equal to its fresh, lovely parts.
The Modern's menu is a short, two-page affair. Dishes are beautifully presented on angular plates that mirror the lines of the hotel's layout like the pavers in the secluded courtyard. The luxury in each menu item comes unassumingly through the austere portions, fine ingrethents and savory flavor profiles. Page one of the menu is all appetizers: an array of tartines - little French open faced sandwiches - smoked trout canapes, a mussels and chorizo dish," chicken quesadillas and plates of olives or nuts. Soups, paninis and salads make up the entirety of the entree offerings. The roast beef and mozzarella panini ($9) was a squished, crispy, surprisingly complex sandwich, complemented by crunchy homemade potato chips liberally sprinkled with paprika. The peppery bitterness was grilled out of the arugula and Dijon mustard, grilled cheese and salty lean beef were easily teeth-torn. From a distance, the chicken quesadillas ($8) looked like a smaller version of those offered at almost any chain restaurant but the Modern's attention to detail is something those chains seldom abide. Melry, stretchy aged Gouda and tangy Monterey jack between soft tortillas was lush, and the inclusion of fleshy nuts and a side of creamy, not-too-spicy salsa took the 'dilla in a deluxe direction.
It is on its cocktail menu that Modern's attitude turns toward ostentation - tartines and canapes are inarguably pompous. But braggadocio can be forgiven if it's warranted. Like James Bond, Modern's drink menu swaggers around with its tuxedo-adorned chest puffed out. And like the secret agent, it has earned it.
The Manhattan Mule ($7.50) is a syrupy bourbon, sweet vermouth, lemon juice and house-made ginger beer that sipped beautifully with the panini. The strange-named A Pair Of combined Grey Goose La Poire (pear), grapefruit, lemon, Galliano L'Autentico and sage and gave off bright aromatics as it popped on the tongue.
A new summer cocktail menu will be available soon, but an advance glimpse revealed a selection of classic drinks and Modern seasonal coolers like the Lackadaisy with Torrontes dry white wine, pisco, lemon juice, orange flower water, simple syrup and orange peel; the honey and ginger, cachaca and lime Honey-Ginger Caipirinha; and the anticipated return of the Modern Cocktail, a gin or vodka on the rocks with muddled cucumber, lemon, sugar and fizz. They've also added a Bea Arthur - Highlands scotch, lemon, honey and orange peel. Maybe there's time before the menu gets back from the printer for one more homage: a sexy, flowery pink cocktail named the Rue McClanahan.
- Amy Atkins wants to be a Golden Girl.
[Sidebar]
THE MODERN HOTEL AND BAR
1314 W. Grove St.
208-424-8244
themodernhotel.com
Kitchen open Sun.-Mon. 5 p.m. -10 p.m., Tue. -Sat. 5 p.m.-11 p.m.

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