For Canadians living in New York, historically there has been little on the culinary scene to make us homesick for Canuck Country, save for the long-shuttered Royal Canadian Pancake House and random bars that serve Molson. So I was excited to hear about the recent opening of The Inn LW12, a Canadian-British-inspired gastropub (Canadian owners, English chef with Daniel Boulud consulting) in the Meatpacking District.
I arrived early and wandered back and forth along Ninth Avenue because I didn’t see a sign. My friend Hyde met me and was also baffled. If there was signage, we didn’t spot it. We guessed it had to be the establishment on the corner across from Pastis, but we still couldn’t figure out where the door was until we saw someone go in.
Mystery solved, we followed the leader into the nearly empty first floor and were greeted by multiple hostesses—all with the requisite foreign accents but sadly, not decked out like RCMPs (Royal Canadian Mounted Police). We’d just made our reservation that morning because they only allow you to do same-day. The hostesses told us they were doing a shift change and suggested we wait momentarily at the bar. I’d heard about the Maple Cocktail, which sounded a bit revolting (maple syrup in a drink?) but kind of intriguing. I took one for the home team and tried it. Hyde was less bold and went for a Maudit. I was pleasantly surprised by my refreshing cocktail: the healthy dose of whisky ensured I didn’t taste a mouthful of sickly sweetness.
We’d already drained our drinks when a hostess came by and said we could go upstairs. While we settled up ($22 for two drinks), other overly solicitous staff came by twice more to ... check on us? Upstairs in the Canoe Club (presumably named for the upright canoe in the room), which was made to resemble a lodge with walls covered in framed artwork of the great outdoors, we took a lovely seat by the window, looking out on the cobblestone streets bathed in twilight below.
The waitress asked what kind of water we wanted, and I mistakenly okayed “still.” Turns out, that’s not the same as tap. She returned, presenting us with a bottle of Speyside Glenlivet. The label on the bottle, which made for entertaining table reading, came with handling instructions to keep it away from sunlight and a “best before” date. We wondered how insanely expensive it was going to be, but those Scots did bottle a tasty water.
We had to start with poutine (fries topped with gravy and melted cheese curds), arguably the national dish of Canada. It’s designed to be the perfect post-bender comfort food because it’s cheap and plentiful. While the fries remained crisp and the cheese was great, there wasn’t enough of it and the fairly small serving was an excessive $13. For our main courses, Hyde ordered the veal tongue and cheek ($25) just because of the animal body parts, and I had the lamb burger ($18). He enjoyed his food, but mine was overly spiced. For dessert, we opted for the traditional English sticky toffee pudding with vanilla ice cream ($9), but got something else.
We were in a hurry to make a movie so we ate whatever it was. When our check came, it indicated we’d been given a chocolate tart, which was excellent. Curiously, the Glenlivet wasn’t on our bill. But free water doesn’t make up for a stingy serving of gravy fries, eh?
The Inn LW12
7 Ninth Avenue (at Little West 12th St.)
212-206-0300
