Crowd: Chef Antoine Petteway, who jumped ship from the neighboring Metropolitan, is a favorite amongst locals in Federal Hill - Proper. The crowd seemed very similar to that of Metropolitan, likely seeking the same warm atmosphere, imaginative dishes, and eclectic beverages common to the coffee shop and gastro pub. It ranged from mid-20/30 somethings having a few beers and laughs to empty-nesters sharing a bottle of wine.
The crowd had a positive vibe, and was certainly comforting to working professionals of any age group indigenous to Federal Hill/Sobo. If you are seeking company of individuals just off a shift at the docks, you are not likely to find them here...well, not yet, anyway.
Crowd: B+
Atmosphere: A few of us walked in to The Hill on a beautiful Friday evening, with sunshine pouring through the front windows. I realized that since both sides of Cross St. traverse east/west, there are very few bars in Federal Hill that have a front that faces west. Depending on the time of day you decide to check it out, you will notice an immediate distinction from other bars in the neighborhood, which is invaluable to a new establishment attempting to compete in a bar-rich neighborhood: loads of happy-hour natural light. One of the most reknowned real estate developers in South Florida once said that light truly defines and enhances a space, no matter what the use. This is clearly evident in this manifestation.
The layout of The Hill is clever and unique amongst the neighborhood’s many watering holes. A clouded-glass divider separates the bar area from the dining area. The bar itself is rectangular, bisected by a partial brick wall, which allows bartenders to access to all sides of the bar, and allows patrons too see all sides of it.
As we sat down, we noticed an annoyance: the bar stools were far too short for the bar. This may seem inconsequential, but if you have ever tried to sit and enjoy an adult beverage while feeling like a child at the adults’ table, then you can appreciate its many consequences on your enjoyment of one or multiple beverages. Unfortunately, this was a harbinger of what was to come with a series of annoyances that led to a poor dining and all-to-mediocre drinking experience.
Another quick point on atmosphere: there is a sign behind the bar that reads: “What happens in The Hill, stays in The Hill”. Simply said, if you are going to blatantly rip off a slogan, rip it off from somewhere other than a moderately-clever national ad spot for Las Vegas that ran in the early 90’s. I think the movie “Under Siege” was at the top of the box office when that phrase was considered the least bit clever…and it was marketing a City of Sins, not a new neighborhood pub in City of supposed Charms.
Atmosphere: C
Drinks: The Hill does not claim to be a micro-brewery. I did not walk in expecting an array of beers that rivaled Max’s, nor did I expect arrogant bartenders who shunned you for not knowing the complexities of a cranberry lambic. When I saw an array of microbrews from Clipper City on draught, I have to say I was excited. When I asked the barman to confirm if the Marz-Hon was Clipper City’s lager and got a blank stare, I was not excited. The wine list is decent for a Federal Hill bar, and we had a bottle of Sauvingnon Blanc.
The cocktail list does not have a list of the ingredients of each “specialty” cocktail. Let us take a page from Woodberry Kitchen here, if you are proud of the ingredients you are using in your cocktails, inform your patrons of those ingredients. Instead of ingredients next to the drink, we get a sappy description in quotes. A feeble attempt at a humorous, non-specific description is what we get at Applebee’s. Further, the cocktails seemed unimaginative and overpriced, but I cannot comment on execution as we did not sample them.
Drinks: C+
Service: As stated above, the atmosphere had loads of potential. In my opinion, however, atmosphere is largely shaped by the service. The service at The Hill can best be described as misguidedly arrogant and inattentive. When my girlfriend asked the bartender what she would recommend, the response was “everything is good”, and was terribly helpless in helping us choose an entrée.
I am mildly annoyed when a server recommends the most expensive dish on the menu, but I am intensely annoyed when a server makes no recommendation. At this point, we had gone from Applebee’s to McDonalds, where the help is given specific instruction to be unspecific in recommendations. As far as I am concerned, anyone serving me food should have tasted every single option available to me, especially with a price point at that of The Hill.
For the remainder of the night, drinks went dry without a glance (we were sitting at the bar, mere feet away from additional liquid fun), orders were reluctantly taken and filled, and employees displayed a general sense of apathy.
Service: C-
Food: Once again, I did not walk into this establishment with high expectations. The menu is divided in a “land, air, sea” concept, and most of the dishes appeared fun, while not terribly adverturous. When we received our jambalaya, sword fish, and veggie focaccia, however, our modest expectations were impossibly not met.
First things first: the swordfish was raw. I simply cannot comprehend how a kitchen in a new restaurant could make the mistake of putting undercooked seafood out for service. When sent back and re-fired, the dish was tough and clearly not fresh (unless out of the harbor). Paired with some string beans, this is clearly a dish I could recreate after a quick stop at the Cross Street Market.
On to the next disappointment: the jambalaya. My expectation from a "southern chef" is a bold, spicy, rich dish with an array of flavors. My reality was overcooked chicken and frozen shrimp in a sauce base that visually and in terms of taste, resembled Chef Boyardee. Served over bland white rice, the jambalaya was under-seasoned and far from the appropriate temperature. This dish is to comfort food as electric chair is to comfort furniture. Further, I am not one for Cheesecake Factory-sized portions, but at $17, this dish simply did not satiate.
The only saving grace was the marinated-portabella focaccia sandwich. While it does not seem overly difficult to marinate some portabellas and throw them between a sliced piece of focaccia, I was not making any assumptions at this point.
Food: D
Take Home: After dinner, a few other friends met us at The Hill, and we promptly left in search of a watering hole with some character. After spending countless months rehabbing a space and opening a signature restaurant, The Hill disappointingly missed the mark. Very modest expectations were not met, and in a neighborhood (and city) full of bars and restaurants, this is simply inexcusable.
Despite mine and my foodie companions’ negative experience, I am a believer in second chances, and I will go back to The Hill at some point. The sour taste I was left with, however, will undoubtedly be difficult to sweeten.
Take Home: D+
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