A couple of weeks ago, I found myself ponied up to the bar at Hopfields for the purpose of attending an Austinist.com Happy Hour. As soon as I recall how to sign in to my Austinist.com account, I'll start submitting the volunteer food articles I'm actually supposed to be composing. (New goal for the week).
In any event, I had a hard time finding this place, as you can probably imagine that West Campus beer bars don't necessarily ping on my radar. I actually hate to admit this, but I went in with a heap of bias against the place before I even set foot in it, mostly because I'd never heard of it and filled in the blanks with my sometimes paranoid imagination. I had all these horrible expectations of inebriated dude-bros and shrieking sorority girls causing a din of commotion over cheap pitchers of beer and nasty nachos, a scene from which I would have to flee like a terrified refugee.
I couldn't have been more off the mark. Instead of Animal House, what I found was a cozy, staid gastropub with a respectable, sophisticated menu. Oh. Well, now, I could handle this.
The first bartender to help me was named Carter. An older couple paying out their tab kept gushing about how nice he was to them, and they were telling him so. Carter invited them back, and informed them (and by extent me, since I was totally eavesdropping), that Hopfields would start offering a full English breakfast on Saturdays and Sundays. I was daydreaming about how it would stack up to the one served at Annie's, when Carter interrupted my thoughts and asked what I would have.
Completely by reflex, I ordered a vodka tonic. Carter blinked and began to explain they don't serve hard liquor, but I realized my mistake almost instantly and instead ordered a Guinness. They didn't have Guinness, either, so he offered to pour me up a Breckenridge Thunder Stout as a substitute. Clearly, I am not enough of a beer snob to know the difference between any of this stuff, but it tasted just like my preferred Irish brew.
With time to kill before the others arrived, I placed an order for the Niçoise salad (Fresh greens with haricots verts, fingerling potatoes, tomatoes, olives, tuna, white anchovies, and a hard cooked egg). The seared tuna was cooked perfectly, and all the ingredients came together in a light, yet surprisingly filling dish. As someone who rarely orders salads for entrees, the fact that I thoroughly enjoyed theirs was another Hopfields surprise.
I hemmed and hawed over whether I should have dessert. They offer crepes in three varieties: lavender vanilla sugar, Nutella, or sugar and confiture. I said to hell with it, and treated myself to a Nutella crepe.
A note on the service: a man who I'm guessing was the manager took my orders, and followed up with me on each course to ask how it was. He was very polite and made me feel very much at ease. Speaking of which, there was another bartender there who I'll call Mr. Suave because I never got his name. Dark, swarthy, and extremely mellow, Mr. Suave also made a point to inquire how I enjoyed the food, while simultaneously offering beer tastings to a woman across the bar who he reassured: "I promise, I'm not trying to get you drunk". That's unfortunate, because see: I'd let him get ME drunk. Something about him was really, really smooth...and I even let it slide that he referred to me by my rarely used and overly-familiar sounding nickname "Nate", after noticing my name on the tab. Truth be told, he probably could have called me Bitchface McAsshole and I still would've been charmed. If you couldn't tell already, I thought he was cute.
The rest of the party arrived, and it was time to leave my perch at the bar, sit at the communal tables, and switch to another beer whose name escapes me but whose spigot is adorned with a semi-nude golden angel. One more note: I noticed an editor later dining on the steak frites, and it looked absolutely fantastic. The place gets crowded (and gets crowded fast), so I'd say hitting the earlier side of Happy Hour is your best bet if you're looking for a calmer environment.
If you know your beer, this is your place. If you don't give a crap about beer, but want to enjoy an excellent Niçoise salad or steak frites, this is still your place. And if they've still got it going on, I'd say that full English breakfast on the weekends has my name written all over it.
A solid 4 stars. And I'm sorry I misjudged you. Cheers, Hopfields. read more