When Michael Belben and David Eyre launched the world's first gastropub in London in 1991, they never considered how — or if — the concept would play across the pond.
The Eagle was simply a pub that offered good food, and while that wasn't a new idea in England, the gastropub label caught on as chefs snatched up drinking establishments that the Monopolies Commission forced brewers to divest, lest some companies control the flow of beer from farm to tap. The label suggested a place where people could order tasty, reasonably priced food and good beer and liquor to go with it. The atmosphere would always be comforting and unpretentious. The name gastropub suggested community.
In this country, however, gastropub has a broader definition.
Virtually everyone credits New York City's Spotted Pig, which boasts a Michelin star and offers globally inspired dishes by chef and co-owner April Bloomfield, as the first gastropub to open stateside. Since then, gastropubs have opened across the nation, particularly in the largest and typically trendsetting restaurant markets. They embody a diversity that makes a strict definition next to impossible, with variation even in their ages.
For instance, some of the more celebrated examples were in existence before the term gastropub was even coined. Father's Office in Santa Monica, Calif., famous for its Office Burger, has operated since 1953. In 2000 a young chef, Sang Yoon, bought and renovated the bar, his favorite, with the intention of reinventing the American pub. Touted as a "beer sommelier" for today's cocktail culture, Sang is bringing what he considers the beer sensibility of Belgium to Los Angeles one tap at a time. Many West Coasters cite it as the quintessential gastropub.
Yet all gastropubs in the United States share certain characteristics. All serve alcohol, as well as at least a decent variety of beers and wines. All offer ambitious fare, even when described in uninspired ways, such as "shepherd's pie." All commit to a comfortable atmosphere, and all aspire to earn a cherished standing in communities as places where one can go and, as in the TV show "Cheers," everyone knows your name. And all profess to have a really good burger.
Many clearly don't feel they have to celebrate the concept's British roots, though most give a nod to Europe via their menus.
The Inn LW12, which opened this year in New York's Meatpacking District, gets inspiration from Canada. One of the most popular dishes is a poutine, which traditionally features fries covered in gravy and cheese curds, elevated at The Inn LW12 thanks to Daniel Boulud's influence as consulting chef.
Chef Andy Bennett says it's rare for a table not to order the Quebeçoise favorite for sharing in the bustling ground-floor Tap Room; the quieter, more-formal Canoe Room upstairs serves the same menu. Poutines at The Inn LW12 include one with spiced pork belly and one with braised beef and Stilton with red-wine sauce, as well as a vegetarian version with spicy tomato sauce, olives and capers.
Asignature cocktail at The Inn is the Maple Leaf, a combination of whiskey and maple syrup balanced with a splash of lemon juice. The place's unusual name refers to its location on Little West 12th Street, a snip of a road unknown even to many native New Yorkers.
Open six months, The Inn was busy this summer, which says something in a city where residents typically escape to the Hamptons at this time of year, Bennett says. He says he's anticipating even greater business in the autumn and winter.
New Yorkers say if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere. Testing that theory in Chicago is BB's, which opened a year ago in that city's River North section. BB's bills itself as Chicago's first test of the gastropub concept. But co-owner Donnie Kruse, whose Irish cousins convinced him to adopt the description, has taken heat from area pubs and restaurant critics who claim that BB's didn't pioneer the concept in the Windy City.
Kruse, of Stanley's Kitchen & Tap and Melvin B's fame, says he's abandoned his dialogue with the restaurant community on what a gastropub is and isn't. He's now more concerned with keeping his customers happy and less over whether BB's led the gastropub trend in Chicago. "We were the first to label ourselves a gastropub," Kruse says, a claim to which there's no dispute.
New York's The E.U. — for European Union — opened in April 2006 in the East Village but shut down when the city denied it a liquor license. After promises made to a bar-saturated neighborhood, guaranteeing no extended service into the wee hours, The E.U. earned a beer-and-wine license, reopening weeks later.
Now patrons rave about apple-flavored Gouden Caralous from Belgium, one of six imported beers on tap, as well as several bottled beers and wines representing a map of Europe.
Guests dine on raw-bar selections and tapas and antipasti such as mushrooms à la grecque and baccalà croquettes. Starters such as fried meatballs with yogurt and mint and sweetbread bruschetta with Marsala and shiitakes precede homey-with-a-twist entrées such as fish and "chips," which are beer-battered string beans served with lemon aïoli. All the dishes created by chef Akhtar Nawab.
A1930s porcelain bar is the focal point of The E.U.; a refurbished 1952 Berkel slicer nearby, used for charcuterie, helps marry the front- and back-of-house. A communal farm table and shelving bearing wines, stemware and china are offset by sleek dark leather and filament-bulb lights.
While it strives to look, feel and taste different, The E.U. hopes to transcend the gastropub label.
"The whole point of being a gastropub is not to think about it," says partner Jason Henning. "My interpretation of a gastropub is utilitarian, taking a very raw form and making it really work without overthinking it. Everyone wants to compare it to the first gastropub ever. But it's simply a spirited, convivial time surrounded by the concept of food."
Driving the trend in Southern California is Ford's Filling Station, which opened in February 2006 in Culver City near Los Angeles. Chef-owner Ben Ford — who earned his street cred at The Farm of Beverly Hills, Opus, Campanile and Chadwick — believes the intended spirit of the gastropub is being diluted in the United States. Indeed, he considers himself the "curator" of the concept on the West Coast and says Spotted Pig is his counterpart in the East.
"It's become something people think they understand but have no idea what they're talking about," Ford says. "I don't care if people do the concept, but I want them to do it well, with the right message behind it. It's so flexible — 'we're a pub with better-than-average food' — but I like to think of a gastropub as more intellectual.
"Meanwhile," he continues, "you have to have soul, and you have to be able to cultivate the neighborhood around you. We're the living room for the community."
What's the future of gastropubs in the United States? Owners and chefs say the concept is sound, promising comfort and casual enjoyment supported by good food and drink. Like "fusion" and "nouvelle cuisine," whether the term will become more misleading than descriptive remains to be seen.