Intermezzo Bar + Cafe

A Margerum Syrah is like a good friend.  You look forward to spending time with them, you enjoy their company, and you know you can always count on them.  Well not so with the Margerum Syrah offered up from the blackboard menu at Intermezzo.  In fact, the spigot swill they pour is a nasty imposter as experienced last Thursday evening.   With a friend who also wanted syrah, we decided to order a bottle, but we were not told that the bottle wasn't actually a bottle, but instead a carafe filled from a spigot behind the bar.  The small, swirl-impossible glasses placed before us should have been a tip-off.  The nose was practically non-existent and the first (and only) mouthful revealed a warm, exceedingly flat, "this CAN'T be a Margerum Syrah" taste devoid of any complexity, but with - get this - a hint of carbonation!  I was momentarily shocked by the sensation of effervescence on my tongue and could hardly swallow.  I immediately asked the bartender for a REAL bottle.  With a barely concealed flash of anger, he whisked away my glass and tossed away the contents and said he would check the cellar.  At $8 more for a bottle, it was worth the price.  Real Bordeaux glasses appeared and the cellar-cool wine that was opened and poured into the stems was a beautiful inky ruby with that unmistakable spicy syrah nose.  A few minutes of swirling and inhaling later, the first mouthful was a wonderfully lush blend of spice and black cherries, well-balanced structure, smooth tannins, and luxurious finish.  And as always, the food was great.  Bottom line: save the trendy taps for beer and leave the wine in the bottle where it belongs.   Serve up the quality that Margerum is known for.

I had no intention of dining at Intermezzo. I am so glad my girlfriend and I wondered into Intermezzo late Saturday night.

We had originally planned to have dinner at Wine Cask. Anyone who has spent time around Wine Cask/Intermezzo can confirm that determining where one location ends and another begins is a bit of a challenge. They have two restaurants, a tasting room (where a private birthday party was being held), and a courtyard (where a wedding reception was taking place). Based on the quality of Intermezzo, I don't think it matters all that much where you end up.

I tried to find a single complaint about this place. I don't like to not be able to find one thing about a restaurant that I wouldn't improve upon. Intermezzo has broken my rule. My girlfriend and I split a half-carafe of Viognier, calamari, french fries, and the chevre doughnuts. Jesus. Christ.

Everything could have been the superstar of a complete meal at any other restaurant. The wine was affordable and tasted great (I love when restaurants offer options between glasses and bottles). The calamari was perfectly cooked and unique--it is served up with sauteed peppers, jalapenos, and garlic. Should I ever cook calamari in my own home, I will try my damnedest to copy the Intermezzo formula. French fries were perfectly cooked and worked perfectly with the calamari (what can I say--I like my fried food). And, I don't know if there are enough words in the English language to describe how awesome the chevre doughnuts are. It isn't often you have a desert you've never had before that leaves you wishing you could have the exact same dessert the next day. Well, I want to have those doughnuts today, tomorrow, the next day, and the next. They were packed full of flavor, were prepared to have a perfectly crisp texture with a gooey center, and were paired with an decadent coffee ice cream.

No complaints whatsoever. Just go eat here already.

Absolutely mezzo-tic. The food is grand, the SB County wines are spectacular and the man behind the bar/curtain while I occupied the stool (Jeremy) not only educated me, but made perfect suggestions with the wine on tap, as well as their vast selection of bottled wine. We're here for six weeks, staying less than 1/2 mile away #DangerDanger911Help!.  I have a feeling Jeremy may get sick of seeing me in the same wardrobe over and over (and over) again. Should have brought more than two button downs and a pair of ratty jeans. Yee Olde Navy sale here I come!