Sanctuary Social

Sanctuary Social sits on the ground floor of a brick building in the middle of a Villa Hills subdivision called Sanctuary Village. It's far enough off the main roads that you might second-guess your GPS on the way in (my brother did first time I took him). A round gold "S" hangs over the door, and "Eat Drink Be Social" glows in the window. My daughter and I hadn't been back in a while. We planned on lunch and stayed close to three hours, which is about the best thing I can say about a restaurant.

The Vibe

Inside, the room centers on a long butcher-block bar with leather-backed stools. Behind it, a wall of bourbon and rye sits on iron pipe shelving over blue herringbone tile, next to a wine rack that runs to the ceiling and a row of wine dispensers. String lights run the length of the room over green walls and black curtains, and the flatware is gold. It feels more like a neighborhood living room than a strip of tables.

We've sat on the patio on earlier visits, and it's one of the better ones around. It's a cedar pergola strung with lights, with its own outdoor bar and taps, bistro tables, and a bar counter facing a big open lawn lined with houses. It feels cozy and wide open at the same time, because it sits right in the middle of the neighborhood instead of behind a parking lot.

Our server, Sydney, set the tone. She was warm and personal, steered most of our order, and filled us in on what's changed, as she's been there since day one. The small-plate format they opened with didn't work, so they dropped it, and plates are full-size now. Every recommendation she made paid off. Even took some white bean chili home as a last-minute addition based upon our chat.

Then the general manager, Amanda, stopped by and ended up talking with us for about 25 minutes. The highlight was the house Sanctuary cherries. They pit them, boil them in sugar and water, then take the leftover cherry syrup, add Buffalo Trace, and seal the whole thing in a jar for 30 days before canning them the way your grandmother would have. Those cherries show up across the cocktail list: the Old Fashioned, the Manhattan, the Tart & Tamed Martini, a bourbon highball called the Cask & Cherry, and a 12-year rum Old Fashioned. They smoke the Old Fashioned right at your table, and the smoke hangs in the glass over a big cube and an orange peel when they set it down. That's the difference between a bar that pours drinks and a bar program.

The Food

The menu makes its case up front. The Wagyu brisket, pulled pork, airline chicken and wings are all smoked daily over hardwood in a charcoal smoker, and the kitchen builds around that.

We opened with the wings and the buffalo chicken dip. The wings are the house favorite: jumbo wings smoked, then finished in the oven so the skin crisps. They came on a slate board with celery and the house sauces in brass cups, and I went with bourbon BBQ, buffalo garlic and creamy Parmesan. All three were very good. I'd put these wings up against anybody's around here. The dip comes in a cast-iron skillet under a ranch drizzle and green onions, with a basket of corn tortilla chips. My daughter is a buffalo chicken dip snob, and she noticed this one leans on cheese rather than drowning in buffalo sauce. She liked the change.

On Sydney's word, I got the Smoked Wagyu Brisket Sandwich and the Smokehouse flatbread. The sandwich stacks the brisket with sautéed peppers and onions, provolone and a house horseradish cream on a toasted potato bun. The brisket used to come as minis back in the small-plate days. Now it's one big sandwich, and it's terrific: real smoke flavor and not a lot of fat, just right. It came with potato chips and slaw.

The flatbread has been on the menu since opening day, and it hasn't needed to change. It's the same Wagyu brisket over habanero bacon jam, with red peppers, red onions, mozzarella and fresh cilantro, served on a wood board. It isn't a typical flat flatbread. The crust has some puff to it, the kind you usually only get from a proper pizza oven, and that's what makes it.

My daughter ordered the grilled salmon filet with the house hot honey glaze on the side, at Sydney's suggestion. The salmon was cooked right: tender, with clean grill marks, and it held together on the fork instead of falling apart. The glaze baked onto the fish tones itself down and works. The extra on the side ran too sweet for her, so she left it alone. Her sides went two ways. The potato bombs are small whole red potatoes loaded with a creamy drizzle, bacon and green onion, and they were ridiculously good, or in her words, fire. The house mac & cheese was good but average.

We finished with banana pudding under a tall swirl of whipped cream and scraped the ramekin clean. Between the smoker, the house sauces, the canned cherries and a Southern dessert done right, this is a small kitchen that knows what it's doing.

The Bottom Line

Sanctuary Social takes some finding, and it's worth finding. The smoked wings and brisket stand with any in the area, the bar treats its cherries like a project, the patio is one of the nicest spots to sit around, and the staff made lunch feel like a visit. We came for a meal and stayed nearly three hours. It's Worth the Drive.