Capitol City Cork and Provisions

UPDATE: Capitol City Cork, and its owner, Jami Wade, celebrated Cork's last nights in business on Friday and Saturday, June 28 and 29, 2019. As of early July 2019, the business is for sale. Jami was ready to move on to something else; said the business had never taken a loss. Anyone want to take the reins of one of JC's premier hospitality businesses?

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This post is soooooo long overdue. Capitol City Cork has been in Jeff City for years, now, and it’s become an institution. And it’s a lot of things to a lot of people. In my opinion, it’s an oasis.



Located at 124 E. High Street, it’s almost exactly in the center of town, just a brief walk from the State Capitol, the Cole County Courthouse, and gaggles of law offices, lobbying groups, PR firms, and state office buildings. Being uptown, having an elegant ambiance, and serving beautiful food and beverages, it receives plenty of uptown customers. And you never know who you might see in there.



Disclaimer: As you might have gathered, my “restaurant reviews” are no longer critiques—instead they are cheerleading sessions about places I genuinely like, meditations on places that are great on levels deeper than the superficial. Places whose presence make our community better. Thus I describe my beloved Cork.

When I started this blog and named it the Opulent Opossum, I had in mind the juxtaposition of having big city tastes while living in a small town. How does one lead an opulent life in a place where the majority are thrilled with fast food and interstate chain restaurants and are suspicious of cuisines and foods none of us grew up with?

And how does one embrace the benefits of a small town—its neighborliness and warmth, its charm, its unabashed community spirit—without also caving in to the provincialism, self-satisfaction, and fear of change that’s the flip side of small communities?

How can we live in Jefferson City as Opulent Opossums?

Well, Cork exemplifies the best solution to this question: it strives for the best and highest tastes while being completely grounded in the warm and friendly neighborly hospitality people in big cities have nearly forgotten about. It’s elegant, but it’s a laid-back kind of elegant. A place to relax and celebrate this precise moment, in this exact place.

So, if you’re reading this, and if you’re wondering what kind of place Cork is, then let me describe it to you. In a word, it’s a bistro. It’s a long narrow room with a small bar in the back and a hallway beyond that leading to the back door. They make the most of what is actually a rather small space.



There are a variety of tables and seating options, including tables by the front window, so you and your friends can check out all the action on High Street (yes, that’s a small-town joke) . . . but there are more secluded tables farther in. (Think: date night.)



. . . Or you can sit at the bar, and no doubt make a new friend . . .



. . . Or you can enjoy the café tables out on the sidewalk.



You even have options getting in. In addition to the High Street entrance, there’s another entrance in the rear, along with opportunities for nearby parking in the lot behind the row of buildings. So you can usually park pretty close. (Big-city people, be jealous.)



The emphasis, as the name implies, is on wine. The list includes an array of tasty special offerings, but then the house wines are much better than average. The glasses are enormous, allowing you to properly swirl, sniff, and savor your beverage. (Some people have actually complained that their glasses aren’t filled enough—but they don’t take into account the large size of the glasses!)



And if you’re not into wine, there are good beers and other beverages as well. There’s a reason they call it Cork and Provisions!



And here’s a nice touch: They keep glass bottles of water chilling in the fridge and bring these to the tables, so guests can refill their own water glasses.

Their chow is called “new American,” but I think “fresh bistro fare” is a better label. If you find menus for Cork online, be skeptical—the menu has had several changes over the years, and it can change seasonally. Websites can’t keep up. Cork doesn’t use a food service, and sometimes something just looks really great at the farmer’s market, and suddenly that’s the day’s special.

So the menu can change, and that’s a good thing, my friends! Fairly recently, they’ve added burgers to the menu. Juicy, handmade burgers! And they do this thing with a bleu cheese cream sauce as a topping, and, well . . . you just have to try it. I did, and got perfectly prepared Brussels sprouts as a side.



When people criticize Cork, what do they say? The biggest complaint, I think, is about the hours, which would be easier to understand if they were more traditional or conventional. According to Cork’s Facebook page, they’re open Tuesday through Friday, 5:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m., and closed Saturdays, Sundays, and Mondays. So: no lunches; no weekends at all; and no Mondays. Meanwhile, they may be closed (or open) certain nights for special events. And special events are pretty common, both at the restaurant and catering offsite. If you’re in doubt, call them (573) 632-2675 or message them (as on the Facebook page).

You’ve probably heard the old saw about “Do you want it fast, cheap, or good? Because you can’t have all three.” At Cork, the primary emphasis is on the last: quality and freshness is the priority. As international travelers know, not everyone in the world agrees that food should appear instantaneously, or that all diners are understood to be in a hurry. Cork has the sensibility of a café in, say, Paris, where dining is valued as a social occasion, for conversation, tasting, lingering, enjoying. Here in Jefferson City, this is high praise indeed.

One more thing about Cork: It is connected, philosophically, stylistically, and (by means of a small hallway in back) literally, to Capitol City Cinema, Jefferson City’s community-supported arthouse theater. This nonprofit single-screen cinema shows independent, foreign, and documentary films, and it partners with other nonprofit groups to improve the community. It, too, is an elegant space, with chandeliers and comfortable seating, and you can purchase gourmet appetizers, beer, and wine at next-door Cork to enjoy before and during the movie.



The two entities benefit one another: What could be more perfect than dinner and a movie? —Oh yeah! A lovely dinner and an awesome movie! It’s a brilliant strategy for helping the restaurant business, while also contributing to the cultural scene in this small town. Maybe you won’t want to see all the movies, but I’m sure there are some you’ll love.

And so here’s my call to action: Check out Cork and the cinema. Become a “regular”! “Like” ’em on social media so you know about upcoming movies and events at the cinema and can stay up-to-date on Cork’s specials and special events. The people who run these conjoined institutions are your neighbors, who love Jefferson City and are contributing to it, via their daily work, every single day. As with all locally owned businesses, you can “vote” for their continued presence with your meal and entertainment dollars. You won’t be let down.

What's Op Op, Part 2

(Part 2 of trying to explain the title of this blog. With more to come.)

So, yeah, it’s an attitude. “Opulent opossum” is an oxymoron, and it describes so much of life. There can be such richness and luxury, exquisite gourmet extravagances, while at the same time we plod along in our mundane, unexciting little ruts. Or, to put it another way: Sometimes the things that we think are boring, the same ol’ same ol’, can actually be a wellspring of luxury.

Take, for example, the humble billy goat cookie. I held up on eating the last one we had left over from Christmas, a cookie made by my mother, a cookie just like all the other lumpy brown billy goat cookies she’s made every year for at least four decades, and which her mom no doubt made all the years she was able to.

Billy goats aren’t hard to make, though they take some attention to detail. They’re not exactly “pretty” cookies, either. But man, do they taste good! The flavors of dates, black walnuts, and spices harmonize as well as the flavors in any high-class European pastry.

You can’t buy these in stores; they only come from Mom. And because we have them only once a year, because we associate them with Mom, and with her mom, they become important beyond description. . . . That’s opulence, man.

What's an Opulent Opossum?

I’m not sure I can say this succinctly. The Opulent Opossum is me, in a way, but it’s also an attitude, and it’s also our cat Patches. Maybe if I describe the three, you’ll get the idea.

See, Patches was a stray who hung out with a whole flock of semi-feral cats that the neighbors were “growing” in their junk-filled shed with the broken door. Our first winter in our house, we felt sorry for this flock and (yeah) we started feeding them, leaving our back porch door propped open on the coldest nights so they wouldn’t freeze. They were all scared to death of us, but they did like the free food and clean water, and they got used to us watching them from the kitchen window, which looks out to the porch. They always scattered when we opened the door, however.

Anyway, Patches was different. In fact, she wasn’t at all part of their big clan. Unlike the semi-feral strays, she had been someone’s dear kitty, which they nevertheless abandoned. Whoever her stupid former owners were, they gave her a flea collar when she was a kitten and didn’t bother to remove it when they abandoned her.

And the other cats despised her, and for good reason: She was mean as spit to them. And she was lovey-dovey to us. We noticed the problem with her and the others, so we started giving out food in separate bowls so they wouldn’t fight. Still, despite their discomfort with each other, she would huddle inside with them on the porch on those cold nights—only in her own corner, all by herself.

Well, to make a long story short, that next spring, the now-mature clan of feral cats began work at making the next generation, and the backyard was starting to thaw and stink, so we had the animal shelter come out and, basically, trap all the feral kitties. Wow, that was a hard week—but it had to be done. Jeff City doesn’t have a no-kill animal shelter (that returned our calls). There’s more to the story, but I’ll save it for some other time. So, it was very sad. We did adopt Patches, though.

At first we were hoping to find a good home for her. We got her spayed and wormed, and we got all her shots and stuff. And we quickly discovered that her pugnacity spills over into her relations with all other cats, including our kitties, so she had to be separated from them. I think she just doesn’t see where she has much in common with a bunch of hairy, inarticulate animals. In her mind, she’s a person in a cat suit. She only wants to hang around with people. No problems with self-esteem, here!

Meanwhile, she’s a funny-looking cat. Nope, they can’t all be Abyssinians. She’s a pale calico—mainly white, plus gray and tan, in patches (duh) that meld into one another in a way that would make cat-show judges deduct points. She’s not a large cat, but she’s plump and round like a possum. And her arms and legs are thin and dainty, white, very funny-looking under her paunchy body. Her face is flat, and her eyes are googley—big and round. She always looks like she’s staring, surprised. Her pretty pink nose has a black spot on it. She simply is not a cat that will win any beauty pageants. But does she know this? Nooooo!!!

We ended up adopting her. Yes, we’re still working to integrate her with the other kitties, but meanwhile, she’s opulently affectionate to us. She thinks that we are The Coolest People Ever, and she jumps on our laps and hugs us and buries her face in our necks and makes “air biscuits” and all of that. She rolls over on her back with her paws in the air, showing us her glorious white belly and her little cat nipples, as if she were modeling for one of Matisse’s odalisque paintings.

Opulent, indeed.

For a continuation of "What's an Opulent Opossum?" click "newer post" below; there are four parts to this "introduction"!