Downtown Manhattan Beach’s best kept culinary secret
In some of my columns in the past I have made the distinction between a restaurant that serves liquor and a bar that serves food. The difference is a matter of architecture, atmosphere, and menus, as well as a certain indefinable something that suggests an orientation toward either food or drink. As a Supreme Court Justice once remarked on a slightly different topic, it’s hard to define but you know it when you see it.
You know from the name which side of that line The Downstairs Bar will be on, and the architecture confirms it – the low couches and tables in this multilevel space make the place look more like a living room than a dining room. It’s about the size of a living room too – the former Side Door doesn’t have much square footage to spare. The menu is outsized thanks to the fact that the kitchen for the private club upstairs is making the food. Instead of standard freezer-to-fryer bar snacks there are fresh items like shrimp ceviche, ahi poke, and grilled lamb chops. I might never have dined at The Downstairs Bar had I not seen that menu posted outside, but once I did I had to gather family members to give it a shot.
The place was almost empty when we arrived early on a weekday evening, so we had the attention of the entire staff. Since the entire staff is one person who takes orders, makes and serves drinks, and generally keeps the place running, we were curious about how things work when the place is full. (We assume she can call for help from upstairs.) She took our drink orders, described menu items we had asked about, and generally made us feel at home. We decided to start with a Caesar salad, meatballs simmered in Jamaican jerk sauce, and an order of mac and cheese, with a Moscow Mule, Old Fashioned, and a house drink called a Skinny Diamond to start the digestive process. The Skinny Diamond, a margarita made with agave juice, is the only non-standard item on the cocktail list; as Side Door, this place had focused on unusual and sometimes brilliant mixology, but the emphasis now is on quality renditions of old standards.
The starters arrived together, the cooked items hot, which was something of a feat since our server had to run upstairs to get them. (She must be very fit, since she is in constant motion in an environment with many stairs.) The portions here are substantial, and the appetizers and drinks filled the table nicely. The Italian-style pork and beef meatballs were presented in a fairly mild jerk sauce, though given that the spectrum for jerk seasoning starts at hot and goes to scorching, there was plenty of room for piquancy here. The flavors of chili and black pepper, garlic, vinegar, and allspice melded into something as flavorful as it was spicy, but that didn’t completely overwhelm the meat and herb flavors in the meatballs. They were a success, and worth ordering again.
The salad also was a hit thanks to a bold dressing and ample topping of freshly grated cheese – I often order Caesars because it tells a lot about the kitchen’s attitude to fresh, lively flavors. This one had a nice balance of pepper, garlic, and the touch of anchovy paste that adds body, and it passed with flying colors. The mac and cheese was the perfect third item, a rich and creamy antidote to the heat of the meatball sauce and contrast with the salad, and my wife proclaimed that it might be the best she’s ever had.
The main courses here are all sandwiches, and we selected a chopped chicken torta, ahi burger, and steak with Dijon horseradish and sautéed mushrooms. (I actually had the steak sliced and served without a bun, which I suppose could have been done with other items on the menu.) The torta was served on a crusty roll than the bolillo mini-baguette usually used for tortas, but that was fine with me because the traditional buns often fall apart. The grilled chicken, jack cheese, avocado, cilantro, and onion with a mix of mayonnaise and tapatio sauce was moist and probably would have ended up in someone’s lap otherwise.
The ahi burger was a good-sized piece of fish rather than the chopped tuna mix that is often used, and it was seasoned with just a dash of mild wasabi aioli – plain food well executed, without frills and flourishes. As for the steak, it was a half-pound of meat char-grilled the medium-rare that I requested, with the sauce on the side. Given that it cost me all of fourteen dollars with a good pile of crisp fries on the side, it was a good value as well as a good meal.
The concept of dessert is an alien idea here, because most people get another glass of wine or a cocktail, so we did the same. As we paid our tab – $60 for food, about the same amount for three cocktails and three glasses of wine – we noticed that almost everybody else who had come in was also dining as well as enjoying their drinks. The Downstairs Bar is not very well known yet – the place has no website or phone, and the entry on a side street doesn’t give it much visibility – but some locals are obviously in on the secret.
The Downstairs Bar is at 900 Manhattan Avenue, entrance on 9th Street. Open daily at 4 p.m., closes around midnight, sometimes earlier if the place is quiet. Street parking only, full bar, some vegetarian items. No website or phone – phone number listed by Yelp is wrong, so please don’t call it.
