Balefire falls short but has potential to be Everett fave

It’s been a long time coming.

Snohomish County residents who are resigned to driving to Seattle to find good beer or wine need to go no farther than Balefire in downtown Everett. Both drinks are the specialty at the bar, and owner Jon Tobey even throws in a dash of pretension, possibly to appease those who prefer big-city snobbery.

“We like to say that we specialize in fine fermentables,” he writes on his Web site.

Tobey’s zeal for cultured booze, combined with his penchant for staying up late (finally, a place that is both clean and open past 9 p.m.!) is a welcome relief in north Everett, where finding a spot for a drink and a snack after business hours can be a challenge.

But all that drinking of beer and wine has resulted in a series of hiccups that even the best brew can’t disguise. Between lingo more appropriate for an overpriced beer-of-the-month club and service that is almost hysterically inadequate, Balefire seems to straddle the fence on whether it is one of those awkward “specialty” bars where average people don’t feel quite at ease or Everett’s go-to nightspot.

With a few tweaks, it will easily blossom into the latter, and just in time. In the face of a tough economy, Tobey needs steady business as much as people need a place to relax.

The first pleasant surprise is that wine can be ordered in two-ounce pours or full glasses, and beer can be ordered in pints or half-pints.

Each food item is listed alongside a keyword (such as lush or fruity), and the beer and wine lists are organized according to those descriptions. Unfortunately, only some of the menus include those keywords. That meant a night of swapping across the table as we ordered a flight of wine and a series of appetizers.

Balefire doesn’t have a kitchen, so all the food is brought in from local providers. That means it should be easy to know what’s in stock and what’s not. When I asked about the price of a small couscous salad (there was a blank spot next to the listing), a server had to run off to check. He was gone for a long time before he returned to say the dish is no longer offered.

A three-cheese platter was listed for $15.75, while a separate platter offering four cheeses and a selection of charcuterie meat was listed for $12.75. When I asked, the server couldn’t tell me what kind of cheese was being offered, and why a seemingly larger platter cost $3 less. I suggested that perhaps the prices had been swapped. He said he didn’t know, and he didn’t bother to check.

I took a chance and ordered the three-cheese plate. A second server delivered it, with a lengthy description of each of the four cheeses it included, along with a ramekin of apple chutney. After such a complete presentation, I assumed it was an oversight that there was no knife on the platter. When I asked, the server nodded toward the butter knife sticking out of the napkin that held my utensils.

A sun-dried tomato tapenade, served with baguette, ($6.50) tasted like it was scooped directly from a grocery store olive bar. A small bowl of red lentil soup ($3.50) tasted the same. Neither were particularly bad, but with all the focus on food and beverage pairing, the attention paid to food seemed rather cool.

If you go, forget the food (unless you absolutely need something to soak up the alcohol) and focus on the drink. There are 10 beers on tap, and more, including Tobey’s own brews, are promised soon. That’s in addition to a healthy selection of bottled beers available. Options range from the local Diamond Knot brewery to European stalwarts.

Two dozen wines are always available, with options in every category. Prices are recession-friendly, with two-ounce pours starting at $3 and glasses ranging from $6.50 (for an Orvietto from Rocca delle Maccie) to $13.50 (for a Willis-Hall Tempranillo.) There’s no option to buy a bottle listed, but Tobey seems to like flexibility.

Beer can be had for between $3.50 (for a half-pint of Bridgeport Blue Heron Pale Ale) and $8.50 (for a pint of Konigshoven Quadruple).

Both the beer and wine selections are rotating. Tobey and his staff hope to introduce new options regularly.

Live music is regularly scheduled, but on quiet nights the performance area near the bar’s front door is as empty and cold as a cave.

From there, a line of tables wedged up against a hard banquette bench stretch deep into the building. When a band is playing, when the tables are filled, and after sampling a few varieties of wine or beer, Balefire could easily become a local favorite.