A Craft Cocktail Program Alights in Small Town Kentucky
Nightjar is building a late night community in Berea, one currywurst at a time.
I’m the type of person who typically isn’t fazed when something unexpected happens. Blame it on the fact that my favorite childhood board game was based on the Worst Case Scenario Survival Handbook, but truly bizarre turn of events rarely make me break a sweat. Inexplicably encountering a jewel-hued poison dart frog in the woods at Breaks Interstate Park? Wouldn’t bat an eye. Apparition floating above my bed and talking about clogging while I try to sleep? Seems reasonable!
But the one development I absolutely did not anticipate in 2021 is that I’d be dusting off my drink writer’s cap to cover an actual, honest-to-God craft cocktail program launching in my home county. (Oh, and did I mention it’s in a restaurant that’s open past 10 p.m.?)
Named after a nocturnal bird with a squat little head and churring trill, Nightjar opened less than two weeks ago in Berea to great fanfare. (Even on a Wednesday night right at its 5 p.m. opening, the snug space was cozily humming.) A project of Native Bagel Company’s Katie Startzman—and housed in the same building as the locally legendary breakfast spot—Nightjar’s menu walks the line between German street food and American classics, accompanied by cocktail offerings (and beer and wine) that cleverly weave in these culinary themes.
Nightjar was dreamed up as part of Startzman’s vision for a Berea with more “third spaces” for gathering that remained open even as stars filled the sky. “When you create a business, it feels very empowering because you're building the world the way you want it to be, and doing Nightjar really was a continuation of that for me,” says Startzman. “I am grateful to live in Berea, but we do have some gaps when it comes to what’s available. We’ve been kind of stunted socially because we don't have more places for people to come together in the evenings, and we need more spots like that. So many of my business ideas come from, ‘OK, where are the gaps in our community? And how can I help fill that?’”
The drinks menu, developed by Julia Petiprin of Cincinnati’s Sundry and Vice and Homemakers Bar, is perhaps Eastern Kentucky’s first purposeful, hospitality-forward craft cocktail program. Startzman and Petiprin met during the pandemic through an informal Facebook group for female restaurant owners in the region started by Kristin Smith of The Wrigley Taproom in Corbin, as Petiprin describes, “during that time you could only communicate with people through the interwebs.”
“It's lonely to own a restaurant, and it's hard, especially in a small town. I see women who own restaurants in cities, and there's whole groups of people who meet in person to support each other. There's not many of us in small town Kentucky,” say Startzman. “I just thought I was hiring Julia to teach us about cocktails, but she affirmed my belief in the importance of having a space where you have real empathy for your customers and staff, and are genuinely trying to create a loving experience for your community.”
(Chuck Will’s Widow, Nightjar, with a cameo from Minnie Mouse)
For Petiprin, accessibility in drink-making is always top-of-mind. “I’m always of the mindset to make cocktails approachable. You want to take the intimidation out of it. I love showing people new things and introducing them to concepts or flavors that they may be unfamiliar with in a way that’s easy to grasp.”
Building a balanced cocktail list with winks and nods to a menu filled with hearty German-American fare is a challenge Petiprin readily accepted, putting her personal motto of “I take my craft seriously, but I don't take myself seriously” to the test. The Nightjar staff spent two weeks in a cocktail crash course with her, leaning everything from spirit categories and cocktail families to technique and the modern classics. Above all else, though, she emphasized the importance of hospitality. “Hospitality is always a part of my training because it’s truly why I do what I do. Hospitality first, then cocktails are right there with it.”
The resulting drink experience at Nightjar is unparalleled in small town Kentucky, and could serve as a blueprint for other communities interested in expanding their “late night” options. (That is, after they go wet.)
The Crowned Heron—most drinks are named after birds, naturally—presents as a tall, golden-hued cocktail with a dynamic combination of tequila, lime, grapefruit, curry and seltzer that’s sprightly on the tongue at first sip, then lingers with a cure-what-ails-you, back-of-the-throat spice. (Pair it with the currywurst—which is drizzled in a curry tomato sauce Startzman hopes will become “Berea’s new favorite condiment”—for a one-two punch of earthy, peppy heat.)
(Front to back: currywurst, sauerkraut balls, Hungarian sausage)
My Chuck Will’s Widow—a slow-sipper combination of rye, pineapple rum, cherry, demerara and angostura bitters that would make a perfect mid-winter nightcap—arrived alongside a showboat of a sausage, the spicy Hungarian, which I quickly painted with a wave of warm, tawny-brown mustard. My initial reaction to the SS Hulking Hungarian was to yell with my mouth completely full, “This is all killer and no filler!” but upon further—more, ahem, refined—reflection, it’s the use of caraway that’s so masterful, giving a voluminous sausage that could have simply been a meditation-in-pork the sort of bittersweet, anise bite that is just aggressive enough to cut through the meat’s density.
But the best, and most surprising, dish of the night was none other than the sauerkraut balls, which are listed somewhat confusingly as “sauerkraut fritters” on the menu. A fritter, to me, is a smooshed-down, flattened out, sizzled-up thing, while these tennis-ball-sized orbs more closely resembled jumbo, multi-bite arancini, with fermented cabbage in place of rice. Plated with a pond of grainy honey mustard (Nightjar, blissfully, offers a true sepia-tinted rainbow of mustards), the mild sauerkraut, hearty chunks of speckwurst sausage and Swiss gooey enough that cheese-pulls come with ease made this appetizer the menu’s sleeper hit. This is the snack you’re craving when raiding your fridge at 3 a.m., and the one you’ll contemplate wrapping in a napkin and keeping in your purse for just one more surreptitious bite hours later.
A nest of hand-cut French fries arrives with almost every plate (so many fries, raining fries!) reinforcing the notion that no one is skimping on anything, including portion size, at Nightjar. That’s because, from concept to side dishes, generosity is the name of the game at the restaurant. Perhaps more accurately, generosity and conviviality.
Nightjar is convivial in a small town way, sure—there were a lot of “Oh, wow, you know each other?” moments among diners, much to my eavesdropping delight—but also convivial with a true appreciation for what Nightjar represents in the community: a fluttering of newness in a region where progress sometimes feels stagnant; the flicker of a future that’s grown from the ground-up by locals; and, at the most basic level, a place that proves the city doesn’t, in fact, roll up the streets when the sun sinks over the hills.
Feeling a little peckish after reading? Invite a friend on a dinner date to Nightjar by sharing this story with them. (You know you need some sauerkraut balls in your life…)
And if you’re looking for a way to help others this holiday season, give back directly to those in need in our region by supporting Eastern Kentucky Mutual Aid!
