Walking into Barrio, particularly on a rainy Seattle afternoon, you could see why the metal letters spelling out the restaurant’s name next to the entrance are rusted. Understandable: it’s Seattle. It rains here. We get wet. Now where can I hang my umbrella?
Once inside, though, the bar's fascinatingly cobbled-together décor vanquishes most thoughts of overcast skies. Barrio makes excellent use of its space, combining wood, metal and concrete with remarkable ease. Square angles and curved arcs playfully banter throughout the main dining area. Molé-colored walls contrast against a dozen or so splintery espresso-colored 4x6 beams suspended from the ceiling over a swooping fireplace.
And of course: the candles. So many goddamn candles. A thick, latticed grid separates the two dining areas, supporting hundreds of luminous pillar candles. The rear dining area features several more dozen spiraling down from the ceiling, their flames flickering and shimmying off the maize-colored walls. (Side note: Cameron, Barrio's general manager, assures me each candle is lit by hand every night. On closer inspection the candles, at least in the latticework wall, look to be faux pillars rigged with oil lamps. Either way, the effect is striking and impossible to overlook.)
On the whole, Barrio sports a rugged, masculine décor, anchored in strong, bold statements and supported by other subtler elements of design. Coincidentally or not, the beverages are the same: bold flavors with subtle undertones to enhance, elevate and improve.
The APIC* and I are, admittedly, accustomed to simple, formulaic drinks when going out: he the vodka and ginger as of late, I the vodka soda as of always. When we sidled up to the Barrios snaking bar, covered in a mosaic of jagged, uneven porcelain chips, we felt inspired to order something more sophisticated and adult.
(And by “inspired” I mean that Barrio doesn’t list well drinks for happy hour, so we were pretty much screwed as far as two-note sippables.)
The margaritas ($6), frankly, can be dangerous and go down entirely too easily. On the specialty drink menu, the rum-based PFC Punch #1 ($10) was by far the favorite of the four we ordered: a sweet, peachy cocktail packing the tiniest trace of alcoholic assault that subtly stings all the way down.
The tacos ($3) were stuffed to the point where a knife and fork made more practical sense than attempting to eat by hand. The pork loin al pastor is particularly worth mention: the spicy, red sauce blended together well with onions, cilantro and pineapple extras.
The bar packs up after happy hour, and I mean really packs up. On a Wednesday there was a steady stream of people waiting up to 15 minutes for seating. It was around this point when the place grew too loud for the APIC*, which I will concede is one of Barrio's few detractors: with all the exposed concrete and metal, there's not a lot going on as far as sound absorption.
Walking out more bleary-eyed than before (thank you, expert bartenders!), and struggling to push open the heavy Mexican mission-style doors, we again came face-to-face with the restaurant’s rusted letters. After spending some time in the interior, it’s as if these patinaed letters play off the masculine decor, foreshadowing what first-timers can expect inside.
Whether that's by design or by the booze, I'll let you decide.
Barrio. 1420 12th Ave (12th between Pike and Union), Seattle’s Capitol Hill (Also 10650 NE 4th St, Bellevue). Daily 3:00-6:00 p.m.; late night Sundays through Thursdays 10:00 to midnight, Fridays and Saturday 11:00 p.m. to 1 a.m.
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