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Proof Positive

Wining and dining is just fine at screwtop

By Warren Rojas / Photography by James Kim


French Toast

French Toast


Ladies, are we hungry or are we just boozing?” one plucky screwtop barkeep pressed a pair of wine-swirling sophisticates mid-flight.

It wasn’t long ago that screwtop founder Wendy Buckley was asking herself that exact same question. And she didn’t really like that there was nowhere that immediately leapt to mind when pondering her sipping and supping needs.

So the former AOL exec did her homework on boutique wine shops, huddled with revered cheese mongers and plumbed family recipes before launching her wine bar/retail concept in December 2009.

The space is compact—the restaurant claims less than a dozen tables, including the communal tables parked amid the wine rack-encased retail section, the serene but seasonal patio setup and the handful of tables opposite the front-and-center bar—but also perfectly welcoming. Although slightly off the main Clarendon drag, I think it’s safe to say screwtop has definitely developed a dedicated—and somewhat surprisingly diverse—following. On any given night you might find yourself: trading tasting notes with a Robert Parker-quoting oenophile, talking sports with chummy businessmen reliving glory days over frosty beers and bubbling-over-with-cheese nosh or joining the gaggles of living-in-the-moment young ladies who have evidently co-opted Laura Linney’s “desserts and liquor” diet from The Big C.

Arlington’s screwtop fields over a dozen rotating flights tagged with clever titles—Every Rose has its Thorn, Spanish Inquisition, Rhone Rangers, Sweet as Zin—as well as circa 30 hand-picked craft brews. Most of the small-batch wines on the master list are available by the glass (around $10 a pop) or are featured in the evolving tasting flights, while the majority of full bottles appear to reside in the $30-$45 neighborhood.

Buckley loves to showcase little-known producers, but refuses to compromise quality for mere quirk. Her catalog ranges from finesse pours like the 2007 Domaine Brusset Gigondas Le Grand Montmirail, a robust Rhone blend that bathes the palate in plum, cassis and blackberry, to locally sourced hard ciders that sweet talk you with green apple but seal the deal with dry (Foggy Ridge’s First Fruit).


Travel the world, one lip-smacking glass at a time.

Travel the world, one lip-smacking glass at a time.


Virginia wineries are always in the mix—during one visit we spotted a handful of regional sparklers (Thibaut-Janisson), spunky whites (Linden Vineyards Hardscrabble chardonnay) and fruit-forward reds (Chester Gap Cellars cabernet franc)—even if they, sadly, tend to collect dust.

“I’ve always got people coming in and asking for Virginia wine,” Buckley said of the lip-service paid to the Old Dominion. “It’s a lot of interest … [but] not a lot of purchasing.”

The modest but resourceful kitchen suffers no such indignities.

Buckley brought in an executive chef during her early days, but that toque took a spill just a few weeks into the job and vacated the post shortly thereafter. Rather than stress out over another hiring blitz, Buckley assumed control of the kitchen reins, filling in the blanks with family-style recipes and personal favorites she figured others might enjoy as well.

Stop-gap solutions have thus far included: charcuterie plates graced with locally sourced cheeses (pink peppercorn-studded Caromont Farm chevre and tangy Meadow Creek Farms Grayson come to mind), bison sliders abetted by aged dairy and fresh chutney, gourmet macaroni-and-cheese creations, a “low-country” lasagna and ooey-gooey desserts.

Buckley has since entrusted her culinary vision to chefs Hamid Khatibi, a Moroccan expat tasked with most of the day-to-day duties, and Jimmy Palermo, a Kora veteran who moonlights at screwtop on weekends.

Hand-crafted sandwiches take their cues from the cheese case rather than the slaughterhouse, with herb-laced chevre calling the shots in a roasted chicken and pesto (extra basil-y) collaboration, while red onion compote sounded a sassy refrain.

Tomato tapenade and shaved Parmesan save a potentially pig-heavy production—think: silky mortadella and spicy speck built—from porky overkill, mellowing out the meat carnival while toasted baguette adds serious crunch.


Buckley’s buffaloaf sandwich brings the beefiness.

Buckley’s buffaloaf sandwich brings the beefiness.


A grown-up soup-and-sandwich combo encapsulates indulgence in moderation. Lusty bacon and aged cheddars get busy beneath pressed panini, the ensuing sandwich retaining its inherent richness without bleeding excess fat.

The signature buffaloaf sandwich was originally modeled on Buckley’s mother-in-law’s meatloaf, but soon took on a life of its own (Buckley swapped ground bison for beef and added crumbled bacon and sun-dried tomatoes to the mix). The resulting slabs of seasoned buffalo arrive studded with onions, swabbed in zesty barbecue sauce, smothered in melted cheddar, blanketed by crispy bacon and pressed between crusty ciabatta.

An ersatz lasagna is actually more like a loosely bound casserole weaving together beer-braised beef, baked noodles, homemade tomato sauce (cubed carrots inject sweetness, simmered tomatoes fling pepper and acid) and jalapeno-pimento cheese.

“I always have jalapeno-pimento cheese handy for snacking,” Buckley said of the spicy staple, adding that she experimented with goat cheese and other dairy for the lasagna, but kept coming back to the zesty spark of her favorite ringer.

Baked French toast shrewdly hardwires cinnamon and nutmeg into the DNA of the underlying bread pudding before frying up the milk-moistened slices. Powdered sugar and maple syrup complete the spicy-sweet loop.

“Excuse me. What’s that?” one awestruck neighbor asks a passing server after she spots the pumpkin bread pudding placed before me.

Don’t get too excited, maam. Once the sprinkled cinnamon and nutmeg were gone, the seasonality abruptly subsided, leaving a pumpkin-less mess drowning in cloying maple syrup.

“Obviously, it’s one of those things that [is] just going to keep evolving,” Buckley said of her menu. “We’re slowly but surely stretching out.”


screwtop
1025 N. Fillmore St., Arlington; 703-888-0845; www.screwtopwinebar.com.

Hours: Open for lunch Tuesday through Friday, dinner Tuesday through Sunday, brunch Saturday and Sunday.

Prices: Average entree: under $12 ($).


(February 2011)



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