A glass half full or half empty?

I wrote last week (and, I think, the week before that, and likely the week before that, and so on, ad infinitum) about the somewhat precarious state of affairs for hospitality.  I explained a little about my uncharacteristic optimism, off-set against the very real and tangible challenges ahead.  Let me elaborate, contextualise if you will (is it a confession?): next week, we’re opening a cocktail bar called Atelier.  In a boozy affirmation of putting my money where my mouth is (a rule I apply literally and liberally in near every area of my life), I’m launching a brand spanking new business in the wake of covid and Brexit, in the midst of an energy crisis and on the cusp of, allegedly, the recession to end all recessions.  Bluntly put; am I fucked?  I am, desperately, trying to take a glass half full view. 

Well, firstly, the energy crisis is real.  For those who pay attention, our plan was to open this bar years ago.  It was electricity that scuppered our bushy-tailed enthusiasm for all this time, and finally getting a supply and contract wasn’t exactly an enjoyable process.  Our estimated energy costs have jumped from £300 or so per month to £1200 per month.  For anyone else contemplating getting fucked by British Gas (other energy-based bedfellows are available), I can confirm they don’t cuddle afterward.  That said, after two years of my life desperately pursuing them for (a) energy and (b) a contract, when it came to signing up I practically threw myself at them – embarrassing!  True to life, some might say; a dogged and one-sided pursuit, a brief and disappointing encounter, followed by immediate regret.

Building supplies too are now extortionate – double the cost of when we began this project.  I designed the venue with my mate Aisling and we both regret deeply using quite so much oak and, also, importing so much furniture from Europe.  Thanks to Brexit’s great success under our glorious leaders, I imagine our Scandinavian furniture will arrive at some point next year.  Forget BYOB, it’ll be BYOC(hair) at Atelier.  Understandably, I’ve had to sell a kidney to pay for the lot, and it’s debatable whether the one remaining kidney will sustain me to celebrate the bar’s eventual arrival.  Jury’s out, but challenge accepted, I suppose.

That said, grumbling done, perhaps against the odds, I couldn’t be happier to finally be opening.  I have a long-standing obsession with old, weird and almost derelict buildings – perhaps I see some of myself in them.  I viewed 1A Newhall Square in the midst of lockdown and fell madly in love – you know, the classic, boys meets old factory kind of set-up.  Built in 1838, this building was previously part of the Birmingham Science Museum and, prior to that, home to the Elkington & Mason Silver Electroplating Works (kind of a big deal in the history of the Quarter lads, as well as, allegedly, the site of the world’s first plastic factory - yeah, I know, conflicting that…). Our new home had sat empty for almost 20 years.  As I watch the building breathe its first breath again there is something of alchemy about the process.  Aisling Ryan our talented designer and notoriously bad influence on yours truly has reanimated the space beautifully. Beyond my wildest dreams.  I believe these historical gems scattered across the JQ should absolutely be reanimated, so that they can be enjoyed and write new stories.  I am aware how wet that sounds and I don’t care – it’s my privilege to contribute, in our little way, to this mission.

The concept too is one that has me gagging for a drink – specifically, a meticulously thought through, perfectly executed drink from Mr Robert Wood (the man behind the curtain at Atelier).  His new home is a fleeting and scarce creative space – with no menu lasting much more than 8 weeks.  It is the unbridled creativity that will, I am sure, give generously to those who seek it out.  The first menu is an uncompromising love-letter to native ingredients – that’s involved Robert travelling all over the country to source ingredients (but don’t ask him about his cherries…) so esoteric there’s little point trying to explain their beguiling brilliance. Just fucking drink them and marvel at flavours that I am unsure have ever featured in a cocktail before.

A neat segue – almost as if my writing were intentional – to Robert himself.  A man as uncompromising about his craft as the self-imposed commitment to British-only ingredients for his first menu at Atelier.  I have been a co-conspirator with Robert for almost a decade – with some gaps in our relationship – since he helped me develop our first ever bar programme back at Dudley Street.  He is, although unlikely to accept such a declaration, one of the most immensely talented people I’ve ever had the privilege to work with. He’s also put up with me for almost a decade – which surely deserves some reward.  As the man who helped set-up the sorely missed Edgbaston and the rightly lauded 40 St Paul’s, as well as his own award-winners Smulstronstalle and 18/81, he has taught me so very much about cocktails, and is undoubtedly one of the founding fathers of great drinking in this city. 

As for business, I’m a simple man and my efforts are focused on making the JQ even more the neighbourhood I want to live in.  This city deserves more incredible bars (with a grateful nod to those who Atelier will join in this noble and boozy pursuit), and after all he has done for the city, he deserves, he needs, a home for his creativity to bloom.  What an absolute privilege to have a hand in making it happen, and what a delicious reward to have somewhere close to home to drink well in.

See the thing about hospitality is a restaurant is never just a restaurant, a bar never just a bar, a coffee shop never… look, you get the picture.  I don’t care what hitherto unimagined challenge may come our way as we step into the abyss, because it’s entirely rooted in a deep passion.  A passion for the place we live and for the city that’s been so very kind to me, to us. A passion for the maddening alchemy of pure-breed creativity, that wrenches the gut with fear, awe and everything in-between.  A passion for my notoriously opinionated, often unforgiving, sometimes misunderstood and consistently brilliant friend.  So, to Robert I raise a glass on these final days before he opens Atelier – know that we ride or die with you and can’t wait to see what you do.  To everyone else, if, perhaps, said passions resonate with you, or you just enjoy drinking exceptionally delicious things, do us a favour and book a fucking table.  See you at the bar – if my kidney holds up long enough…

Ta,

Al

Atelier opens on Thursday 22nd September 2022 at 1A Newhall Square.  Bookings are now live, walk-ins are, subject to availability, always welcome. Please visit the website to find out more.