BAR REVIEW: Bar Moon
When I learned that a new cocktail bar in Uptown was being named after my friend, former roommate, and marketchasers.com founder Justin Moon, I insisted on making a reservation as soon as humanly possible. Sadly, it turns out that the Moon they were referring to was in fact not everyone's favorite non-BTS Korean guy, but the celestial body that controls our tides and our lycanthropes. A common mistake, I'm sure.
I'll be honest, I kind of wanted to hate this place when I first arrived (and even before, having received multiple messages stressing the enforcement of their dress code), as it is quite pretentious. You are made to wait at the base of an exterior elevator door in the BLVD Place development off bustling Post Oak Boulevard, until a bouncer comes to collect you and escort you upstairs. There is a decent amount of waiting space once you get to the upper level, so I'm not sure what the point of this was, other than to imbue a sense of "exclusivity", or something. Don't get me wrong, I love a fancy drinking establishment, but this was just kind of obnoxious. Add that to the extremely irritating lack of a sign that really messed me up and forced me to use a picture of the menu for my cover photo, and I was already mentally preparing a scathing review. However, the drinks were really damn good, so I was forced to recalibrate.
It's also a pretty beautiful space. Plush green velvet walls and wood paneling surround elegant furniture, and a spectacular art piece consisting of hundreds of emeralds (not real ones, probably) dangling from the ceiling catches your eye immediately upon entering. The bar, classic with brass and mirrors, sits in front of a hidden private room beyond. Music is quite loud: I'd call it "diet" house, with some techno remixes of unexpected 90's tunes thrown in for good measure.
Atop the elevator, the hostess greats you with a welcome "jello shot": a gold-dusted jiggly cube of gin and sparkling wine, taken rather pompously in the manner of a caviar bump (their words), but, whatever, it was pretty good. The signature cocktails are all "guided by the lunar cycle", whatever that means... again, quite pretentious, but I'll forgive it, because the quality was spot-on.
To start, the Morning Dew, which I think is symbolized by a waning gibbous, if I can recall my elementary school education on the phases of the moon. This bright concoction had Montelobos mezcal, yerba maté (!!), sparkling wine, and was topped with passion fruit "caviar". Effervescent, with smoky and bitter notes that contrasted with the intensely sweet and sour little yellow orbs that sat atop the large ice cube, this was a remarkable cocktail that made me do the eyes emoji and almost instantly changed my attitude about this bar.
Up next, the Milky Way (waning crescent), with Mount Gay rum, mango, Vietnamese curry, and an ube-coconut rum float. I've been dabbling in ube drinks of late (including a terrific hot one at The Toasted Coconut during the holidays), and the brilliantly purple Filipino yam lent both a nutty vanilla flavor and a vibrant violet hue, seen at the top of the glass in the photo below. This one also had sweet tropical notes as well as hints of savory and spice. Truly excellent and refreshing, probably the best beverage of the evening, although it was a very close competition.
The third contender in that contest, the Apollo Crust (waxing crescent) had brown butter-washed Whistlepig "Piggyback" bourbon, Rémy Martin VSOP, baking spices, Pineau des Charentes (a French fortified wine), apple liqueur, and was garnished with "moon rock rice paper", whatever the hell that is. Very seasonally appropriate, this boozy mixture was laced with cinnamon, nutmeg, and other warming wintery aromatics, with a nice back-end sweetness of grapes and apples. The "moon rock rice paper" was visually appealing, but so startlingly salty that I did a double-take when I first tasted it. I guess the oceans that used to cover the moon's surface all evaporated and left behind a sheen of salinity on the geologic deposits from which this must have been harvested. Still, despite the sodium chloride bomb (which was easily avoided if desired), this was another first-rate mixological masterpiece.
Lunar Quarter (waxing gibbous), with cacao-washed The Botanist gin, Epazote Campari, Cocchi Americano Rosa, was not my order, but I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the white chocolate astronaut that floated on the surface. This confection was a hilarious commitment to the theme, and also quite a nice semisweet complement to the negroni-adjacent libation.
There's a pretty intriguing food menu here as well. The Pommes Dauphines were fluffy balls of mashed potato and choux pastry dough, topped with Iberico ham and a garlic aioli. Plated on an odd grate or grill-type serving dish, these had a wonderful airy internal texture with a crispy exterior, and the salty pork added a nice meaty substance to the fried tubers. I'm not sure if these are named after the wife to the heir apparent to the French throne, or the New Orleans thoroughfare you walk down when you want to avoid the crowds on Bourbon Street a block to the south, but either way, I really dug them.
I can't say as much for the Petite Lobster Rolls, which was my most anticipated dish when previewing the menu during the preceding days. There were four wee sandwiches with the cold crustacean meat topped with frisée salad and citrus zest, but unfortunately the admittedly adorable tiny buns were weirdly stale, and the ratio of meat to roll was far from ideal. The actual lobster tasted good, but it was hard to appreciate given there was so little of it compared to the dry, unappetizing bread. What a shame.
You probably won't be surprised to learn that I ordered the Wagyu Beef Tartare, as I will inevitably sample my third favorite food everywhere it's available. This version was chopped perhaps not as finely as I would have liked, and had a slightly sticky consistency, but the balsamic "caviar" pearls on top provided a pungent vinegary acidity that elevated the meat. The requisite carbohydrate in this case were sea salt fingerling potato chips, cutely cut into half moon shapes. Not as kawaii was the serving "dish" the raw beef came in... the mold of the distal portion of a femur bone was disturbingly phallic when viewed from certain angles.
Speaking of wagyu, the Beef Katsu Rolls were big hit among our party of two. The name of this Japanese deep-fried staple comes from katsuretsu, meaning cutlet, but instead of the traditional chicken or pork, the steak here really leveled things up. Delicious, fatty beef was coated in bread crumbs and cooked to a tremendous crisp, topped with scallions and Fresno peppers, and drizzled with tonkotsu and sesame sauces. These tangy and nutty twin condiments contrasted well with the luxurious, rich Wagyu bites.
Still not totally satiated after this parade of small plates, we opted for one more savory selection, and I'm sure glad we did, because the best was saved for last. Kibbeh are Middle Eastern croquettes, made from pounding bulgur wheat and meat into a paste, which is then formed into ovoid shapes, stuffed with more meat, and (in this case) fried. Exquisite, earthy spices shone through, and the accompanying daikon salad and mint yogurt were a welcome cool and fresh pairing. These were stellar (astronomy pun), and I intend to try more variations of this Levantine delicacy as soon as possible.
Dessert is usually something of an afterthought at these types of places, so I was quite surprised at the brilliance of the Dark Side Of The Moon. This decadent chocolate moelleux (essentially a French lava cake) was drenched in a porto chocolate sauce, topped with hazelnut crunch and a gorgeous chocolate tuile, and served with vanilla ice cream in a distinctly lunar, crater-filled bowl. Very rich, but absolutely fantastic... perhaps the single best item, solid or liquid, of the entire night, and also the best tableware (non-penis-shaped division).
Despite my initial qualms, the quality of drink and food here is generally very high, with just a handful of misses amongst an assemblage of exceptional items. If you're prepared to deal with a few mildly annoying aspects (or if you are just a more refined person than myself), you'll be rewarded with some of the most exciting cocktails in the city, plus some great bites to boot.
RANKING UPDATE: Slots in at #8 on my Best Fancy/Sophisticated Cocktail Bars list in my Houston Drinking Guide, and #14 on my overall Best Houston Cocktail Bars (sadly I'm preemptively removing the great Wooster's Garden, which is closing in a few weeks, from that ranking).
NEXT UP: A much-needed boost to my Best Seafood restaurants.