‘Balliceaux’: New restaurant transports and impresses

After walking by Balliceaux several times, my curiosity grew stronger as I wondered what became of the old dungeon-like place that was once Bogart’s back room. I celebrated my 21st birthday there, ate copious amounts of greasy tater tots and, of course, watched live music.

Two years ago, Bogart’s packed its bags and eventually relocated to West Cary Street. When Balliceaux came into the picture, I had no idea what its plans were. After watching them tear down most of the building, one thing was clear: This was not going to be anything like Bogart’s.

When I finally saw the Balliceaux sign this summer, it confirmed my suspicion that a new, high-class restaurant was in town. I was eager to check it out and knew of the perfect occasion: me and my boyfriend’s first year anniversary.

We arrived promptly at 8 p.m. A visit to the bar wasn’t originally planned, but the staff redirected us there even though I had made reservations. It looked as though they overbooked on this Saturday night, but props to them because it seemed to be working in their favor.

A crowd of fashion-forward, working professionals socialized while sipping fancy drinks. For a moment, I forgot I was in Richmond. I couldn’t even believe this place used to be Bogart’s. Balliceaux’s management transformed it all right, down to the soft, cloth-like paper towels in the bathroom and the sign that read “WC,” a European abbreviation for restroom.

The bartender had only been working at Balliceaux for two weeks yet seemed to be its biggest fan. The $9 Hemmingway’s Revenge was just as refreshing as the standard Orange Crush I normally get, and packed a similarly fruity flavor. The concoction of lime juice, grapefruit, rum, vanilla syrup and ice screamed class, just like everything else at Balliceaux’s.

It didn’t take long before I went to try another original cocktail. The Bubbly O Neg, a mix of sparkly white wine, instantly appealed to me. Undoubtedly my favorite drink of the night, the Bubbly O certainly delivered. It is the glorious sparkly, rose pink drink it promised to be. The best part is an herb placed inside the drink that gave it a flawless, flowery kick.

Balliceaux aimed to set itself apart from other Richmond joints and, instead of a standard table for two, they sat us at a communal table in the back room. Across from us was an older couple, who we couldn’t help but make eye contact with periodically. Not what I originally expected for a romantic evening, but with the drinks from the bar kicking in, I was in good spirits.

The menu ditched standard food categories and displayed them in the cutest of fashions. The fish wasn’t under “seafood,” it was under “waters,” and anything that quacked, mooed or baahed was under “farm and pasture,” giving me a mental image of the duck confit cr