If you hanker to be the anti-hero of your very own film noir, I know the place where your adventure can begin. Head over to The Senator after 9:00 p.m., when the last of the dinner crowd has melted into the night. That’s when they turn down the lights and set out candles on the tables in those vintage booths. Ease onto a stool at the bar and ask bartender Tim Morse to make you a house Derby – a tart, boozy mix of Maker’s Mark bourbon, Earl Grey-infused Dillon’s gin, Lillet Blanc, lemon juice and fresh mint. Look around you while you nurse the first of many. Sure, it’s still The Senator – still rocking 1948, when the place was last redecorated – and it’ll be serving breakfast as usual in a few short hours. But Bobby Sniderman, his son Zachary and manager Peter Moscone have a new plan for their beloved sanctum. From 9 to midnight it becomes Bar Senator and a very cool spot it is.
I was there last Thursday night when they launched the concept. I had expected Edward Hopper’s Night Hawks but the mood was far more merry. DJ Matt Cully of “Goin’ Steady” was playing anything from Motown girl bands to Dolly Parton to Sinatra. Chef Andrew Taylor was sending out miniaturized versions of his wicked, panko-crusted crab cakes, Cumbrae beef sliders, tangy guacamole with crunchy crudités, and tiny grilled cheese sandwiches as if afternoon tea at Downton Abbey had found its way to Pittsburgh. They are all parts of the new bar menu at Bar Senator and the crowd was loving them.
The crowd… Who will they be on nights to come, I wonder? There aren’t many places this close to Dundas Square where a person can relax with a cocktail and a crab cake. The after-theatre crowd will congregate, I imagine. Hipsters will totally get it, sliding into the booth under the retro Coca Cola billboard (there are many homages to the Dark Master at the Senator). Ryerson sophisticates who crave style, not just empty calories, may also contribute to the clientele. As will any citizens of our unique metropolis who have a sense of history. And also, of course, the aforementioned wannabe-film-noir-anti-heroes in their trench coats and homburgs. I have a special pair of spectacles that turn this garish technicolor world to black-and-white and I wore them all through the party that Thursday night. It was the right thing to do.
Bar Senator (The Senator Restaurant) 249 Victoria Street, (416) 364-7517 www.thesenator.com.