High Spirits, Haute Cuisine TWO HOTSPOTS HEADED BY CREATIVE MINDS WHERE THE FOOD IS AS FAB AS THE DRINK. Beer bars, wine bars, tequila bars, whiskey bars, rum bars, big and small holes-in-the wall . . . all are shaking things up in the beverage department and serving up dishes by seriously good chefs who dazzle. Let the good times roll. Zafra Cuban Restaurant & Rum Bar ★★ New Haven With a collection of over 300 different kinds of rum—one of the largest in the country—Zafra in New Haven is Connecticut’s first rum bar. Small, dark and atmospheric, it’s on the fringe of trendy Ninth Square and on the edge of being cool. Hemingway’s Havana is long gone, but with lazily turning ceiling fans, vintage posters touting “Havana, the Paradise of the Caribbean” and a portrait of owner Dominick Splendorio’s Cuban grandfather over the bar, Zafra evokes the dreamy romance of it all. A big draw is the subtle and sometimes fanciful take on Cuban soul food whipped up by multitalented Japanese chef Tadahiro (“Haya”) Hayasaka. A Japanese chef cooking Cuban? Believe. Culinary training in Japan is notably rigorous and chefs who master it acquire knowledge and techniques (and in Haya’s case a poetic sensitivity) applicable to more than one culinary genre. In New Haven, chef Hayasaka has cooked at Japanese restaurants and sushi bars and most recently, as appetizer chef at New Haven’s four-star French brasserie, Union League Cafe. Zafra, with its bold and bright Cuban flavor profile, lush tropical fruits, exotic spices and rum drinks, exhibits yet another facet of this talented chef ’s creativity. Our meal began with a showy presentation of “Ceviche for 2.” With shrimp, scallops, avocado, tomato, red onion and cucumber heaped in three coconut shells, each adorned with narrow, ribbon-like strips of crispy tostones, it challenges description. The 4th of July on a plate? Let’s not get carried away . . . okay, let’s. There were lots of delicious, eye-catching dishes to come. The most memorable was the most unlikely: tilapia. Omnipresent on menus, and in my opinion, omniblah. I ordered it at Zafra only because I was with a friend, a Zafra regular, who raved about it—with good reason. Crusted with crispy, crunchy coconut, perfectly cooked and topped with mango salsa, this was a fish dish worth coming back for. We also liked Zafra’s gentrified version of street food—deep-fried cornmeal empanadas filled with a choice of beef, mango chicken or spinach, and jack cheese; and huge, incredibly fresh, sweet shrimp on skewers, grilled with a shimmering rum glaze, were equally pleasing. Cuban dumplings filled with seasoned pork turned out to be fried, not steamed—possibly a bit ill advised—but a gorgeous, dark rum dipping sauce elevated these little packages of dough from glum to glorious. But for my money, Zafra’s entrées are its strength. A grilled boneless rib-eye steak was a case in point. Supremely tender and exceptionally flavorful, it needed little, if any, enhancement but Zafra ratcheted up the excitement with its own secret adobe spice rub. Chimichurri sauce, served on the side, pales in comparison. I’d say skip the sauce and let the spice rub do its thing. On the other hand, a guava barbecue sauce turned a pleasant little filet of salmon into a dish to remember. When it comes to “authentic” dishes like lechon asado (which Spain, Puerto Rico, the Philippines and Cuba all claim as their “national dish”), ingredients, recipes and methodology differ contentiously enough to start a war. Although I have enjoyed many a festive pig roast on a palm-fringed beach on Vieques Island off the coast of Puerto Rico, I am not about to enter the fray—there is really no right or wrong way to make this multinational pork dish. Suffice to say I liked Zafra’s version, affordably priced at $17, slow roasted and topped with sautéed onions. So let’s drink to lechon asado—yours, mine, theirs—and go on to Zafra’s dessert list. It’s short, perhaps because there are so many scintillating sweet rum drinks one might choose in lieu of dessert. But the sinfully decadent rum-soaked bread pudding should not be missed, the tres leches cake is excellent, and for me, the mango sorbet is the ideal cool-down after an exhilarating meal. Notwithstanding its 300 rums, Zafra is no posh Tropicana nightclub-style watering hole. The bar is not topped with Carrera marble or even vintage tin. The back room is furnished with nondescript bare wood tables and straight-backed chairs. Interior Design magazine is not expected to call for a photo shoot anytime soon. But Zafra proffers something rarer, a trip back in time to a neighborhood bar on a side street in old Havana a couple of blocks from the Malecon. Zafra Cuban Restaurant & Rum Bar 259 Orange St., New Haven (203) 859-5342, zafrarumbar.com Open Mon. 4 to 10 p.m., Tues. and Wed. 11:30 a.m. to 10 p.m., Thurs. and Fri. 11:30 a.m. to 12 a.m., Sat. 4 p.m. to 12 a.m., Sun. 4 to 10 p.m. Price range: appetizers $8.95 to $16.95; entrées $14.95 to $24.95. Wheelchair access. Major credit cards. Republic ★★½ Bloomfield Republic in Bloomfield calls itself a gastro pub and whiskey bar, a modest claim considering what it has to offer: more than fifty beers on tap, in cans or bottles; twenty wines by the glass and more in bottles in the wine cellar; an impressive collection of spirits including ryes, small-batch and single-barrel bourbons, single-malt and finely blended scotches. Virtually all of the above, rows and rows of bottles, are displayed on glass shelves above the bar and in glass cases below, catching the light and saying “try me.” Imagine the specialty drinks a creative bartender, aka mixologist, could come up with. Republic has one, and the night we were there we could have had a strawberry basil martini, a maple bourbon milkshake and even a Sazerac, the cocktail that time forgot. Made with buffalo trace bourbon, absinthe, Peychaud’s bitters and a lemon twist, it dates back to 1859 when it was the signature drink of The Coffee House in New Orleans. We could have dined at the stainless-steel bar to watch our drinks poured, shaken or stirred, or at the marble counter in front of the pizza oven, at a communal table or at a high-top in the thick of the with-it scene, but we asked for a table on the balcony where it was calmer and we could concentrate on the food. Hey, it’s my job. Yes, it’s fun as the menu signals it will be—with “Small Bites, Big Bites, Flatbreads, Between the Buns, Everything Green” and items like a pushcart hot dog or a corned beef Reuben you might want but not expect in a place that also serves coq au vin. Intrigued, we began to explore both ends of the culinary spectrum, starting with nibbles such as parmesan popcorn (addictive) and bacon-wrapped dates like your grandmother might have served to her bridge group. But forget Grandma when you order the deviled eggs. Those mild-mannered little stuffed eggs are daubed with Sriracha, a fiery red chili sauce ubiquitous in Asian restaurants where aficionados douse everything in sight with it. Recipes for Sriracha vary (a popular brand comes in iconic red rooster bottles) but they’re all hot as Hades. Two of us loved it, one scraped it all off. I settled for a tiny dab. Fire-eaters might request more. Asian barbecued ribs, on the other hand, were as approachable as they were delicious, with just the right balance between hot and sweet in an alluring rich dark sauce with hints of oriental spices. A “Cuban sandwich,” ordered because the person who ordered it wanted “something light,” delivered more than expected: an opulent sandwich stuffed with pulled pork, sliced ham, Swiss cheese and dill pickles—plus, a cone of French fries in a wire basket. All disappeared, diet be damned. I ordered a Caesar salad because the menu indicated that you could have it with white anchovy and/or toad-in-the hole (brioche toast drizzled with truffle oil and topped with a soft-cooked egg). I make a mean Caesar salad, close to the New Orleans original, but it’s a lot of work, including tableside preparation. I didn’t expect tableside drama at Republic but I said yes to both salad options because it sounded like a near-classic flavor replication. It wasn’t. The presentation was showy, but it didn’t work. A whole anchovy hiding in greenery startled the taste buds without flavoring the romaine. The toast soaked up the egg yolk and was hard to distribute into or onto the lettuce leaves. Garlic was lacking. Parmesan was not offered. Bottom line: Bland conquers Caesar. Moral: Market research reports that anchovies and soft eggs are loved by some and despised by others. Ergo, you can’t please all of the people all of the time and sometimes (if it means messing with a traditional recipe) it’s better not to try. Big Bites were bolder and better, and some were great, especially those that departed from the playbook, including an über burger beyond the wildest dreams of gourmet and gourmand, daringly dubbed “Heart Attack Burger.” The burger is splurge food of a high order. Lush, lavish, melt-in-the-mouth delicious, it consists of domestic Kobe beef, a huge slab of foie gras, black truffles, brioche and a truffle demi-glace dipping sauce and goes for $49. Serving it “with a bottle of Darioush” ups the price to a jokey 200 bucks, but if you’ve got the dough, they’ve got the goods. We skipped the cabernet and ordered one H.A. Burger for three of us to share. Big spenders might want to pig out but we were on a tasting mission—and a budget. Did it taste like a million bucks? Not really, but with the heftiest slice of foie gras I’ve seen on a plate in a long time, it sure was rich. Not to worry: Republic offers lots of interesting entrées for a lot less. Coq au vin for $17, for example. While adhering closely to my favorite coq au vin recipe (attributable to Auberge Pyrénées-Cévennes, a famous Parisian bistro in the 11th Arrondissement), the chef at Republic braised the chicken in Riesling instead of Burgundy, which changed everything—delightfully. Serving it over papparelle was a nice idea, too. Barramundi en Papillote for $26 was a winner, cooked and served in a parchment envelope the size of a dinner plate. Opening the package, with a whoosh of fragrant steam, revealed firm, white, boneless fish, perfectly fresh, perfectly poached with a dice of colorful vegetables—sun-dried tomatoes, asparagus, yellow squash and fingerling potatoes. Basil pesto was served alongside. The showcase of the dessert list was a kidin-a-candy-store experience called “Sweets Under Glass,” samplings of five different treats presented on a cake stand under a glass dome. Ta-dah! Aside from a disappointing dumbed-down baked Alaska, the other desserts—bread pudding, crème brûlée and tiramisu—were also good, and the Maple Bourbon milkshake, which sounds silly, was sybaritic. As the menu puts it, quoting Edgar Allen Poe: “Fill with mingled cream and amber. I will drain that glass again.” Republic, 39 Jerome Ave., Bloomfield (860) 216-5852, republicct.com Lunch: Mon. to Fri. 11:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. Dinner: Mon. to Thurs. 5 to 10 p.m., Fri. and Sat. 5 to 11 p.m. Sun. 4 to 9:30 p.m. Price range: appetizers $5 to $16, entrées $15 to $33, desserts $7 to $12. Wheelchair access (first floor). Major credit cards. Table Talk by Elise Maclay Westport’s historic town Hall has lamb arepas with tomato-ginger jam and Pankocrusted oysters with bacon fufu on the agenda now that the building has been repurposed to house shops upstairs and a new restaurant downstairs. Tierra is a cosy boîte resembling a basement bistro in Paris, but it’s decidedly not French. Its cuisine is a blend of South american, nuevo Latino, farm-to-table and contemporary american, done with a light touch. Expect surprises because chefs Susan Torres and Darren Carbone, a husband-and-wife team, like to use seasonal ingredients in creative new ways, and Tierra itself thinks outside the box. For example, in addition to lunch and dinner, there is a siesta menu in the late afternoon. Where else can you go for a lovely little meal between 3 and 5 p.m.? (203) 557-4850, tierrawestport.com West Hartford has one of the most diverse collections of restaurants in the state. Could there be room for one more without duplication? a base uncovered? a niche unfilled? Turns out there was, and about a year ago the enterprising owners of Hot basil filled it with HB Seafood, on New britain avenue in West Hartford. a modern take on Connecticut’s beloved seashore clam shacks, Hb Seafood will take you back. Flip-flop ambiance, inexpensive, with paper napkins and plastic forks—and very fresh seafood. Clam chowder, whole belly fried clams, fish and chips . . . beach treats to eat in or take out. beer and wine in plastic glasses. No desserts, but hey, that’s what D.Q.s and gelaterias are for, right? (860) 206-9466, hbseafood.com Gastropubs are where you find them, even in neighborhood bistros or if they don’t characterize themselves as such. and if at first glance, the menu doesn’t look all that exciting, you might be surprised, as I was on my first visit to 50 West, a newish bistro in Plainville. The menu is straightforward without fancifully named dishes and blessedly free of laudatory adjectives and adverbs. but look again. Duck wings instead of chicken wings on the snack list, goat cheese balls with orange jalapeño marmalade and smoked oysters with rhubarb mignonette. and entrées like the salmon over fennel and mushroom slaw, with lentils and mustard seed beurre blanc. back story: Executive chef Niels Van Galen, who cooked at Max Fish in Glastonbury, is a stickler for making everything from scratch—including pickles, jams and jellies, corn bread, aiolis and salad dressings. Moral: The bluebird of culinary happiness might be in your own back yard. (860) 351-5066, 50westct.com