Two interesting things about living in a smaller town intersected in my mind this week. One is how much I form relationships with buildings. People do this in cities, too, but because there are so many options in cities, it can be overwhelming. In smaller places, your choices are more manageable. There are five buildings in Nevada City, CA that I especially like, and one is an old stone brewery.
The other feature of small-town life is that if you stay somewhere long enough, everything changes around you. I’m now in my twentieth year in Nevada City, watching this particular building be turned into a bar and restaurant by its fourth owner during my tenure. It was built in the 19th century, so there were obviously many proprietors before, but that fact seems very different when you watch the changes taking place with your own eyes.
The Stone House, as it’s now called, is having a soft opening this week… that is, they’re open, but not advertising at all, just letting whoever wanders in help them test out their drink mixing, their cash register foibles, and how many mushrooms ought to be served as an appetizer.
The answer on the day we were there was ten, and they were delicious: crimini mushroom caps stuffed with arugula pesto, some kind of cheese, and toasted walnuts. We thought there should be an accompaniment of bread to soak up the ensuing juice on the plate, and this recommendation was eagerly written down by our bartender, Brooke, although there was no bread in the house to serve us. We ate some home-made crackers instead, to help test them, but those weren’t useful for sopping.
I am not what you’d ever call an early adopter. My preference is usually to wait a decade or two before I dive into whatever the new trend might be. But this is the building where I hosted a celebration after winning my National Endowment for the Arts grant in 1998. One of my book jacket photos was taken leaning against a beautiful exterior stone wall. And my life coaching office is right up the street! I park in this restaurant’s parking lot. So I had to come in and see what was going on. I brought my friend Susanna, who is 99% available to go on a lark.
She had an “Old Brunswick,” which might be an Old-Fashioned type of drink with a local name attached (Brunswick Basin being an odd zone between Nevada City and Grass Valley where all the fast food joints reside). I had something I invented: orange juice, fizzy water, and two splashes of the house-made pomegranate syrup over ice. We called it Poet’s Punch.
Two couples came in while we were sipping our drinks, and a few of the staff wandered by. There was some discussion about shifts and credit cards that I didn’t really catch. It was lovely to be in a big old cool spacious building full of history, and lovely to see something slightly battered be given a metaphoric new lease on life.
The fancy restaurant being built on the second floor should be ready by early May, and that’s when they’ll make a lot of noise about opening their doors. Until then, I vote you slip in for a visit any time between 3 and 10 p.m. and see how it’s going.
If you don’t drink alcohol, any of these can be ordered “virgin,” as they say, or Brooke will make you something delicious of her own design. And you can always fall back on Poet’s Punch. Just tell her Molly said to order it.
Is it handicap accessible ?
Yes, Molly — one of the people who visited when we were there was in a wheel chair. You enter on the Sacramento St. side, though, not the parking lot/patio side, where there are something like six steps. Good question, and I’m glad I knew the answer!
PS The photo of brick stairs shows the side entrance, not to the business but to the apartment on the top floor, so it’s not a public access. I just loved how those stairs looked winding upwards. 😉
It certainly is inviting! I begin to reminiscent about all the old bars I have habituated in my life and the ones where I I became attached for a variety of reasons, not always about the food or drinks they served. Having made my living over the years working in restaurants, some with bars and some without, I still have memories of those days, some fond, some not so fond and some that still surprised me or embarrass me. Thank you , Molly for the journey.
xoxo
GG
I always get attached to the people who work in different places, that’s usually what makes me a regular. So I know what you mean, Ruth! xox
What great photographs! This place looks very cool.
Thank you! Someone taught me almost everything I know about taking blog post photographs, I wonder who it was…..? 😉
Oh how very lovely, these old stone walls, once again affording a really pleasant environment for a good drink, stiff or otherwise. However, I let out an audible “oh dear” when I came to the instrument with all those burning candles on top — perhaps a player piano? or…..?? The mushrooms look yummy and inspiring. But all of these reactions may be more of a tribute to the delightful narrative than to the views at hand.
I’m not positive but I think the burning candles might have been those fake tea-light ones, that don’t generate heat. I’ll check next time I go there. We have a lot of strict laws pertaining to fire after this latest long drought… There is something wonderful about sitting in a room that big and spacious and old. A subtle instant reverence descended on our heads (I was with Susanna). xox