Let’s be honest:  Moving into the former Brasserie space inside the Kilmer Building at 31 Lewis Street has got to be any restaurantaur’s wet dream.

It’s got history; it’s got class. It’s big and bold and you feel instantly more impressive just for having stood inside. In fact, the whole Kilmer building feels that way.  Frank Whitney, the building’s current owner, once treated me to a tour of all six stories, and I have to say that the only thing cooler than standing inside the restaurant is standing inside Dr. Sylvester Andral Kilmer’s former lab—ya know, he’s the guy that made gazillions of dollars off Kilmer’s Swamp Root Herbal Tonic before the federal government decided it was a good idea to actually put labels on stuff and explain whether or not it really does anything.

Well Kilmer had a nephew, Willis Sharpe Kilmer, who, as it turned out, was both a marketing whiz (he spun Kilmer’s Swamp Root into a household name) and obsessed with naming things after himself—only backwards.  He owned Remlik Hall, Remlik Post Office, Remlick Railway Car, and even Remlick Yacht—which was purchased by the US Navy for antisubmarine duty during World War 1.

It’s in that tradition that the owner’s of the new Kilmer-housed restaurant decided to name their eatery: “Remlik’s”. Ed Wesoloski—or “Whisky”, as you should call him… Actually, you have to call him Whisky; I showed up at the restaurant, asked for Ed, and nobody knew who I was talking about…  Anyway, Whisky and Kelly Holbert, two of the owners, were “geeking out” on Whisky’s front porch when they did a little research and discovered the yacht’s name.

They seem to have put that much thought into just about everything in the restaurant—and it’s a good thing:  Remlik’s historic space can be both a blessing and a curse—in that it seems to be unshakably linked to a somewhat undesirable “upscale” label.  Is Remlik’s a spot to kick back and have a beer on a Tuesday night, or the place to impress a dinner date before a Saturday night at the Forum Theater? The owners hope it can be both. And with a name like Whisky, you have to imagine there won’t be too much stuffy formality when he’s behind the bar. Plus, how stuffy can a restaurant that’s got a lunchtime take-out salad bar actually be?

So what’s changed about the restaurant’s look since its Brasserie days? Not a ton; I mean, why mess with wet-dream-quality decor? But there are a few distinct changes. Carpeting at the front host stand now creates a more smooth transition into the Kilmer Building’s lobby; hip, modern light fixtures tone down the “this building’s too good for your sorry ass” formality; black and white photography will adorn the walls (it was leaning up against the walls when I visited); and the bar… The bar’s is the big change—perhaps triple the size of the old one, a triangle with seating on two sides, it’s much more accessible for busy nights and big parties. And the giant windows behind the bar are uncovered, a welcome change that allows you a beautiful view of the trains as they pass by and the Ari Mesiel-owned Depot Street lofts across the way.

I’ve found that there’s a fun, chaotic energy that fills a restaurant just before it opens—I was at the River Bistro the night before it opened for Valentine’s Day and they were still laying carpet—a task I was told that listed till 4 AM. OK, maybe the chaos is just fun for me. But it’s definitely present tonight at Remlik’s as they prepare for a press-invited ribbon cutting tomorrow and a 400-person friends and family hors d’oeuvres night on Saturday. Although they seem pretty well ready to open, there are still the finishing touches; curtains were being carried in and hung as I sat down with a fairly well-exhausted Whisky for an interview in their underground bunker of an office beneath the restaurant…

First thing’s first; a lot of people already know what the room looked like under the name "Kilmer Brasserie." How are the aesthetics different now?

We tripled or better the size of the bar which is gonna be the focal point of the restaurant now.  Put a beautiful concrete top on it. We resurfaced all the existing structures.  We’re trying to make it a little more lounge-friendly than it was and make it a little more… I don’t know with a room that size you can say intimate, but the way it was before, it was a little cavernous. Now people will see each other and have an easier time talking.  And of course we added the salad bar.

How will the salad bar work at lunch?

One of three things; they can go and order a salad and take it over to a table. They can order a salad with their server from the table.  Or they can come and get it and we’ll put it in a nice eco-friendly container and they can pay by the pound and take it to go.  If they need to get in and out, they’ll be able to get in and out. There are people with real time constraints.

And the menu. If you have just a few words to sum it up, what would you say?

Classic American comfort food with a twist.

What’s the twist?

Chef Lutz. [Steven Lutz is his name—but they just call him “Chef”.] He comes from all over the country. So when I say classic American, there may be a south-western twist to things. There may be some north-western twist. There may be Southern things. And there may be some East Coast stuff.  American is from all over the country; it’s not just hot dogs and hamburgers.

Can you go into a little more detail?

Mondays we’ll do Meatless Monday. They’ll be vegetarian specials. And then we’re also doing Thanksgiving Thursdays with turkey, mashed potatos and stuffing. Saturday nights are going to be a very affordable surf and turf.  We’re also gonna have prime rib all the time; rotisserie chicken; pot pie; beef tips.

The historic building and grand room kind of scream "upscale". Is this a label you reject or embrace?

I suppose that when people walk in, they’re gonna THINK they’re not able to afford us; because the room is beautiful; the building is beautiful; I think we did stuff to make the venue even nicer than it is. But we’re trying as hard as we can not to be a “fine dining restaurant” and not having “fine dining prices”. We’re trying to make it so everyone feels that they get a value for what they spent and have enough variety on our menu that they can control what they wanna spend.  We wanna make it so that it’s not an “occasion restaurant”.

I know that you’d like to serve local food. Tell us about your efforts…

We have a couple that just bought a farm in Marathon that is eventually going to grow all our produce. We’re sourcing all of our beef locally.  And Chef went to the farmers market in Vestal and met with a lot of local farmers and we’re going to source a lot of our produce from that.

You’ve worked in restaurants and bars for years, of all types. What are you taking from all that experience and bringing to Remlik’s?

I think that I’m very good at making people feel comfortable and I want them to try different things. I’m comfortable sampling different wines or different beers or featuring a cocktail. I’ll make a small one and let them give it a shot.

Will you be working behind the bar?

Every night. That’s what I’m looking forward to! That’s why I’m a partner here; I love it and that’s why I think I’ve been successful through the years.

So who else owns the joint and what are their backgrounds?

Sylvia Vestey is from San Francisco and she has probably 15 years catering experience and party planning. Mike Tulsey has been in the business for 20 years; he owned 3 different places in North Carolina and he and I have worked together for the last 10 at Number 5 and Lampy’s. And Kelly Holbert has worked in the restaurant business for 4 or 5 years. After she finished college, she both taught at CFJ Elementary and worked at Lampy’s.

Putting aside the food and drink for a moment… any special events you already have in mind? Parties?

We certainly have 2 great rooms—one holds about 40 and the other holds about 60.  We’re happy to take rehearsal dinners; any kind of birthday parties. The rooms can be booked. We’re planning on hosting some wine dinners.

Anything else?

We’re on Open Table and will accept reservations online.

I don’t have a foot fetish.  I actually have the opposite of a foot fetish.  A bit of foot fear.  A footaphobia?

::: Hang on; I gotta google this. :::

Podophobia.  That’s what I got.  A fear of feet.  No foot fetish at all, nosiree, not me.  I once had a friend with a shop vac fetish.  Not sure why that’s relevant—but it is true.  And I’ve been looking for a chance to mention it in the blog.  Cause it doesn’t happen everyday.

Anyway, when Sheila McDonald told me she’d like to hang off monkey bars and do a little barefoot dance on my back for my therapeutic pleasure, I was a bit, shall we say… skeptical.

For one thing, having somebody stand on your back requires a bit of trust.  I’ve never personally had my spine broken but I imagine it’s not an altogether pleasant experience.  And for another, I have that thing about feet.  Or rather, a lack of a thing about feet (see above).

But I’m always up for an adventure.  Especially if there’s something to fret about in advance.  And Sheila struck me as being the kind of person to have particularly clean feet.  So I decided to take a leap of faith.  Get it?  Leap of faith?  :::heavy, embarrassed sigh:::

(I also did a bit of googling to make sure Sheila wasn’t making the whole thing up to test out some kind of “experimental massage theory” she’d developed while watching Olympic gymnastics at home.)

I make the gymnastics reference because Ashiatsu Oriental Massage Therapy, as it’s called—no, Sheila didn’t make it up—involves the masseuse hanging off parallel bars and applying pressure to the various muscles of your back.

“Mostly, I’ll only be using one foot at a time, applying at least some of my weight to the bars.  Once or twice, I might use both feet at the same time on your upper and lower back,” Sheila told me in a dimly lit room with the sounds of waves lapping softly on the seashore in the background.  It’s always lapping waves, isn’t it?  Or that instrument that makes the low-pitched waaah-waaah-waaah that I can never remember the name of.

Sheila’s workroom at the Hair Company is small, but also comfortable.  The ceiling is draped with fabric, giving the space a less harsh, cornered vibe.  And she had to get a contractor to come in to install the bars—this is clearly not a portable experience.  I asked her if anybody else in the area was doing that sort of work.  Skaneateles was the closest practitioner that she knew of.

The massage itself was pretty fantastic.  And surprising.  She warned me in advance that it wouldn’t feel the same as a normal hand massage.  One of her clients compared the two:  A normal massage feels like being hammered with a meat tenderizer.  You get worked over but spots get missed.  Whereas with Ashiatsu, it’s like you’ve been rolled out with a rolling pin.  Flattened.  In a really really really quite incredibly pleasurable way.

I’d be lying of the first few moments didn’t make me a bit uncomfortable.  The weight of an entire person standing on your back can be a bit unnerving.  But of course, it wasn’t her entire weight.  Probably the most squirm-inducing moment came when Sheila placed her foot on my neck and began to manipulate the muscles there.  Weird.  Intimidating.  But once the novelty of the sensation subsided, it was extremely relaxing.  I was trying to pay close attention—knowing I’d have to blog about it later—but I soon felt myself drift into a semi-conscious state.

A foot doesn’t feel like a hand—and although less maneuverable, the movements were surprisingly controlled.  Often times, the pressure felt like it was about to become just a BIT too much.  And at those moment, I was worried that the inevitable “Arrrghh!” would illicit a pretty slow response—weighted feet being harder to move quickly than a hand.  But the yelp of pain never came; Sheila seemed to know exactly how much pressure was enough.

Another thing of note—and Sheila told me about this in advance—was how well the shape of the foot was able to work certain parts of the body.  It just fits.  In some cases, better than a hand.

Between back-dancings, I asked Sheila to answer a few qestions about the therapy…

Do people ever seem grossed out by the foot-factor? Bare feet aren’t everybody’s cup of tea…

I’m sure there are some people who would be grossed out by the foot-factor.  In this case, I imagine their aversion to feet would keep them from showing up for Ashiatsu in the first place.  If however, the notion of feet is a tea they are willing to at least sip, they would have to decide if the value in the delivery is worth the awkwardness they may experience.  I had one client, on her first visit, describe the feeling she had when my foot was near her neck and coming down her arm.  She said as she thought of the fact that it was my foot, it seemed strange for a moment.  She went on to describe being quickly intoxicated by the feeling, and moving immediately back to the feeling of pleasure.

I know you experienced barefoot massage for the first time in India. What was that like?
Oh my goodness, everything about India was mesmerizing and unique.  This type of massage in India is called Chavutti Thirummal (which translates as foot massage).  We were staying at an Ayurvedic center in Kerala.  I remember lying on a plastic sheet on the floor with a disposable thong on and having a young Indian woman coat every centimeter of my body with herb-infused oil.  Most of what I remember is feeling an amazing sensation as she glided along every fiber of my body while holding onto a rope attached to the ceiling.  I just remember a feeling of pure bliss and wellbeing.  Shortly after this trip there was an article in a massage magazine I subscribed to about Ashiatsu Oriental Bar Therapy.  I was hooked.  At that time, I began watching videos and experimenting with my partner in a relatively hap-hazard sort of way. 

How did you train for a form of massage that nobody around here practices?
Although I continued to "play", at that time in my (official) career I was still primarily doing basic Swedish massage and had begun incorporating more of the subtle work of Craniosacral Therapy, Chakra Balancing, and Reiki.  I was working at an Integrative Medicine/Wellness Center in Scranton, PA and began taking on more responsibilities with some of our community outreach programs, as well as teaching yoga and meditation.  Bodywork became a smaller area of focus for a few years.  Recently, I opened my own practice again.  Focusing primarily on Massage Therapy, and realizing that most people are looking for deep tissue, I began to revisit my love of Ashiatsu.  It became a sort of obsession — constantly watching training videos and practicing on my friends and family.  For me, transitioning into using my feet as a method of delivery was natural.  My education, experience, passion, and gifts as a therapist translated smoothly into being competent as an Ashiatsu Practitioner.  I have a good understanding of the body and a strong sense of what feels good and what doesn’t.  As well as what’s safe and what is not. 

What works better with Ashiatsu than other forms?
With Ashiatsu, the way the foot is used — the contour of the foot, the amount of padding, the larger size, and the consistent deep pressure that is afforded by the sheer dynamics of gravity — allows for a deeply integrated form of massage.  This deep, compression effleurage uses the power of the legs and the weight of the body to impact the deeper muscle layers as well as more accessible surface tissues.  The consistent pressure and amount of tissue being manipulated at once has a greater positive effect on blood-flow and circulation. Incorporating long, gliding strokes and relaxing sequences results is deep tissue bodywork, without the pain often associated with traditional deep tissue massage.    The slow, deliberate, and consistent method of delivery is very soothing to the nervous system and has a positive effect on the mental, spiritual, and emotional bodies - not just the physical. 

Well… what works worse?
Using your feet doesn’t allow for some of the more specific work that needs to be done on the neck, tips of the shoulders, head, and chest.  But really, I don’t see this as a problem in my work because I always take time before and after the "ashiatsu" portion of the session to address the client’s needs in these areas.  It is important to me that I begin and end with my hands and really connect to the client to build rapport and trust.  My background and training in hands-on-healing and energy work is a big part of my gift in the healing encounter.  This type of work is an important ingredient for bringing a sense of well-being to the client.

Part of what’s different about Ashiatsu is the experience for the masseuse. Can you talk about that?
For me as the masseuse, it is very grounding.  I take my work quite seriously and hold a strong commitment to be present and focused.  With that, it is almost meditative.  From a physical standpoint for me, it is a completely different use of my own body.  I use more of my core strength and larger muscle groups as opposed to my fingers, wrists, and arm strength.  With Ashiatsu, I keep most of my weight in the standing leg (on the table) while I apply pressure by use of my body weight and some muscle contraction in the leg of the foot I am using.  It is almost like a choreographed dance because the sequencing is very important.  It is amazing how the subtleties of how I move on the body have a profound impact on how the massage is experienced by the client.  It is inspiring to be creative and mindfully bring my foot across the contours of the body with the exact right amount of pressure in the perfect spots.  I love moving slowly from the ankle all the way up to the shoulder and down the arm in one smooth, slow, and deliberate motion.  That alone - regardless of how light the pressure could be — is extremely therapeutic to the client.  The body can’t help but to melt and feel a renewed sense of contentment.  Knowing that I am creating and allowing for a truly healing encounter is outrageously rewarding.  When I work I rarely get tired.  Alternatively, I feel good and energized. 

So, uh, you’re walking on people’s backs. Is there a danger??
In any type of bodywork I suppose there could always be some potential for danger.  In the eleven years I have been a practitioner, I have had the opportunity to study with some amazing teachers and be mentored by many great therapists. Because I take my work very seriously, I have worked hard to understand the contraindications for all the modalities I deliver.    Particularly for Ashiatsu, the therapist really needs to remain focused and alert.  When I first began I remember thinking …OMG…if my foot ever slipped and I slid right into THAT vertebrae…. or OMG, what if I slipped and fell on his back, or OMG, what if I accidentally stepped on his arm….  Those were all brief fleeting thoughts, and to tell you the truth, I feel very very comfortable and competent up on my table.  There is this almost palpable sense of "rightness" in what I am doing.  I feel a great sense of privilege in doing what I do.

Ugh. Cancer sucks.

Ya know what sucks even more than cancer? Finding out that your favorite little electronic device in the WORLD causes cancer.

OK, maybe cancer sucks more.

A new study says that kids who use cell phones are 5 times more likely to get brain tumors. Not cool.

It’s mainly about kids under 20 and this aparantly happens because their heads are smaller and the electromagnetic waves penetrate further inside their heads.

Some scientists say the new study is bunk, because it takes YEARS for cancer to form, so how could we REALLY know. But the idea is out there.

And now I’m afraid of my phone. Use hands free. Text instead of calling. And hide the phone from your kids.