Service is often faster and more efficient at the bar. You may get a view of an open kitchen a la “Chef’s Table” without paying a premium. And, most importantly while traveling away from home, you’re improving your chances of getting into one of the most popular restaurants in town. (Bar seats are often left for walk-ins only.)
My bar stool bias was confirmed on a recent impromptu trip to Australia. At Pellegrino 2000 in Sydney — immensely popular after Taylor Swift visited during her Eras Tour — I easily snagged a seat on a busy Saturday afternoon. Rather than waiting for unlikely last-minute cancellations (as my hotel concierge suggested), I perched on a stool to enjoy what many hyped as the trendiest restaurant in the city.
Peering into the kitchen, I didn’t have to rely on Google Images to guide my order. Umming and arrhing over whether to get the spaghetti vongole or prawn-stuffed ravioli, I saw two young chefs making dumplings from scratch — sold. I ordered the ravioli as a primi and followed the recommendation of my bartender, Thomas, for the wild barramundi. While I waited on my food, Thomas told me where else I should eat and drink during the remainder of my stay.
On the same trip I snagged a bar seat at Woodcut, a swanky new restaurant by the harbor. I had a prime seat watching a brigade of chefs play with a naked flame, manipulating a wood-burning oven, a Japanese robata grill and a traditional Basque-style grill that cooked my John Dory. The sommelier was my unofficial dining partner for the evening, popping in between courses to tell me about affordable local sips.
One caveat when you’re dining at the bar: You don’t have to go it alone, but don’t push beyond a party of three. Any more, and you will find yourself choosing conversations to your right or left. If you’re sharing plates, you may run the risk of missing out on dishes. No one wants to go home hungry, especially if we’re going Dutch.
Europeans have long seen the bar as a social destination, where locals drop in for a quick coffee in the morning and have an aperitif at night. On my last visit to Paris, I found more restaurants with the “comptoir” (counter bar) design and culture. I didn’t feel unrefined sitting by the bar at Maxim’s as I tucked into my terrine de campagne in the newly reprised historical house of Paris. Nor did I feel bougie at Laurent, where I dipped a crusty baguette into my eggs en cocotte with caviar for less than $22. At Le Chiberta and Brasserie Fouquet’s, offshoot eateries of star chefs in Paris, the counter remains my favorite seat in the house.
Perhaps there is something about dangling your feet off the ground that makes bar dining more playful, social and engaging. Give me a high bar stool over a low table pressed up against a wall or restroom any day. There’s nothing inferior about sitting by the bar — if anything, it’s the hottest seat right now.
