Family-owned and operated since its inception on St. Patrick’s Day, 1937, by Aloysius Lambert “Thompson” Willett, who produced 30 barrels on that first lucky run, Willett Distillery occupies a patch of prime Kentucky real estate (lush, verdant, and spring-fed) just outside of Bardstown.
If you're looking to taste the true spirit of bourbon, you're liable to hear tell of some legendary bottles. But if it's A. H. Hirsch Reserve Straight Bourbon Whiskey you're after, you might have better luck finding the Holy Grail.
Jean-Robert de Cavel’s kitchen brigade turns out fiercely personal dishes with an unmistakable sense of place, whether it’s embracing the classic saucy splendor of his French heritage or celebrating a bounty of local produce.
Where its sibling and next-door neighbor Senate runs a little hotter, Abigail Street downshifts to a slower flow with an inspired original menu featuring small-ish plates of a Mediterranean disposition.
Despite the cheeky tone and hairpin turns on the menu, it takes real talent and confidence to be this playful. Owen Maass breathes life into timeworn classics that result in deeply flavorful and soothing food.
On the short list of downtown restaurants that operate seven days a week, 12 or more hours per day, Via Vite vibrates with an energetic customer base of expense account lunches, late-night revelers, and hotel guests.
The Larder is an extension of Dutch’s Bar and Bottle Shop, a neighborhood fixture that was transformed from pony keg to beer and wine arsenal—700 varieties of beer, 200 of wine; eight rotating taps—six years ago.
If Kentucky is the new California, Chef Stephen Williams is the new Alice Waters (sorry, chef) whose cozy neighborhood bistro has one fork planted firmly in the canon of Kentucky-proud, the other in classic French.
A proper little ’cue shack along the river, with ribs that are speaking-in-tongues good, some of the zazziest jalapeño cheese grits north of the Mason-Dixon line, and browned mashed potatoes that would make any short order cook diner-proud.
Would you throw down for your local chili parlor? You’re not alone. There are few more divisive subjects in Cincinnati than chili. We rounded up five neighborhood spots worth your notice—and maybe your loyalty.