in praise of sardines

Behind the plywood: oops

In late February, I discovered a problem. The bar equipment was no longer going to fit in the space the architects, kitchen designers, and I had allotted for it.

How could that be? We had spent months taking measurements down to the tiniest fraction of an inch. Yet some how we ended up with a bar area that was a foot narrower than we had planned.

One foot. 12 inches. 305 millimeters.

It may not sound like much, but in the compact 1,400-square-foot world that is Contigo, it's a mile.  One of the reasons I chose the architecture firm I did was its proven track record of working creatively within tight quarters. Delfina Pizzeria, one of the firm's previous projects, was masterfully shoehorned into a space about half the size of Contigo's.

The bar area at Contigo will only be a "service bar." That means it will be used only for preparing drinks. There will be no stools. That was an unfortunate compromise we had to make in our, dare I say it, sardine can of a space. Try as we might, we couldn't seat people at the bar as the overall width of the room was too narrow. Fortunately for those of us who like to dine on stools, there are a handful of seats at the kitchen counter.

We only allocated an area 10.5 feet wide by 8 feet deep for the service bar. The minimum amount of equipment needed to run a full bar — ice bin, bottle rails, condiment shelves, hand-washing sink, small dishwasher for glasses, reach-in refrigerators, ice machine — fit. Barely.

Until, that is, the space was built. After the concrete was poured and the walls framed in, we discovered that the space was just 9.5 feet wide. The equipment could no longer fit.

Oops.

Someone made a mistake. It's a long story and who's to blame isn't important (I calmly write now that nearly 2 months have passed... time truly does heal all wounds). What impressed me was how quickly and professionally the architects and contractors worked together to correct the mistake. Within a week the contractors poured new concrete and reframed the walls. I am happy to report that the bar is now once again the width we had planned on. Yay! What could have been a disaster turned out to be a mere hiccup.

I have more (bittersweet) bar related news, but I'll save it for a future post once the new issue has been resolved (breathe, Brett, breathe).

Behind the paper plywood: first equipment

The stork made a special delivery to Contigo Monday morning ! Like any proud papa, I took lots of photos. Delivery was touch and go at times, but I suppose that's to be expected when your baby weighs 2,300 pounds.

My little bundle of love is a one-ton wood-fired oven made in the Tuscan hillside village of Reggello and imported by Mugnaini in Watsonville (near Santa Cruz). She has siblings at many local restaurants, including (if I remember correctly) Chez Panisse, Nopa, Coco500, and Lulu. She's the smallest Mugnaini sells, but just the right size for little Contigo. We're going to dress her up in locally made Heath tiles ("seconds," the tile equivalent of hand-me-downs from your older brother or sister).

Is it just me or does she look cuter than other restaurants' ovens?

In no time, my little hearth will grow up and become the focus (literally) of Contigo. She'll be churning out a seasonally changing coca (a type of Catalan flat bread similar to pizza), whole roasted fish, sardines, squid, braised and roasted meats, and all kinds of other yummy treats.

Sigh. They grow up so fast, don't they?

The answer to the question I'm asked daily

Hey, you. Long time no see. What’s up?

[You: blank stare]

Hehe. Guess it has been a while, hasn’t it?

[Smile politely]

It's me. Brett. You know, that guy who’s really into Spain and Spanish food. The sardine guy.

[Glance at watch]

Not ringing any bells? Oh, this’ll help: Remember reading about that guy who missed his flight for a slice of New York’s finest pizza? That was me!

[Look down uncomfortably, shuffle feet]

C’mon. Least popular recipe ever. The art of frying an egg. Cook like a girl. Sound familiar?

[Shrug apologetically]

Surely you remember The Name Game, when I asked my readers to help me name my restaurant.

Yeah, that was me! Nice to see you again too.

What? Have you already forgotten? Contigo!

Thanks. I’m pretty pleased with it too.

Sorry I haven't written or posted in a while. The whole restaurant thing has been kicking my ass. My to-do list grows longer every day. But it's all good, it's all exciting. Keeps me out of trouble.

Construction? It’s going all right. A few bumps in the road, but overall can’t complain. Thanks for asking.

What’s that? When?  When what?

[Me: I smile politely, glance at my watch, shuffle my feet, pretend like I didn’t hear you]

Oh, all right. You’ve been so patient with me. If anyone deserves the news, it’s you.

First, you gotta promise me one thing: don’t hold me to it. I don’t want to jinx it.

Okay, good. One more thing. Can I ask a teensy little favor? Until Contigo's doors actually open, please send positive thoughts my way, shout out a word or two of encouragement every so often. I'm so excited by the whole process and feel so unbelievably fortunate to be fulfilling my dreams, but every so often it feels overwhelming. Thanks.

Here goes, then. The answer to the question I'm asked daily: when will Contigo open?