The menu is simple: red, white, and sparkling wines by the bottle and a few by the glass paired with charcuterie. Select cheese and salumi a-la-carte—by the ounce and inch, respectively—or combine them on a board that comes with bread and crostini from Shea Schat’s Bakery and the East Side Bake Shop. The boards also include an excellent sun-dried tomato pesto and cornichons.
The Shed delivers the gratifying sensation of a space that feels modern but without hard edges. The art deco lamps and black-and-white floor tiling are softened by the stuffed-to-the-gills cheese case, crowned with a small brass mouse statuette holding a flag honoring the cheese of the week. The moose bust on the wall is less a hunting trophy than a mascot donning sunglasses.
That isn’t to say that Deaver isn’t serious about his craft. His walls are lined with the cookbooks of the best kitchens on earth: Ferran Adria’s El Bulli’s cookbook, two of the French Laundry’s Thomas Keller, and those of Spiaggia and Noma.
It’s clear that Deaver’s drive is what created a space that delivers perfectly balanced flavors, impeccably sourced ingredients, and an atmosphere in which people want to park and stay a while.
I try a board with prosciutto, soppressata, the much-discussed Wisconsin Bellavitano, and a bleu cheese produced at a creamery in Point Reyes. “It’s a women-owned creamery, and they’ve never made a bad cheese,” Deaver says. He’s training up a new employee with great care as I sit down, explaining all the details of the different glassware and the subtleties of different regions of wine. She pours me a glass of Crémant—it’s dry and light and the perfect way to prime my appetite for the cheese board. Meanwhile, Deaver revs up his gorgeous enameled meat slicer, shaving thin pieces of prosciutto that melt on the tip of your tongue.
The soppressata is just a touch spicy and it pairs perfectly with that Marin County blue cheese. I order a glass of the Anderson Valley pinot noir, which, while a touch light for the sharp cheeses, was so good I ended up ordering a second glass. When the crowds clear out a little bit, I ask Deaver about his motivations. “You know, I’ve been working in kitchens for thirty years, and I was definitely looking for a [Michelin] star,” Deaver shares. But after meeting his firstborn child, those dreams evaporated. “I knew raising this kid was so much more important than fine dining.”
Deaver speaks passionately about creating good, local jobs. “A wine bar is a perfect gig for skiers. You don’t have to show up until noon,” he cracks. Deaver has been in Mammoth Lakes for more than 10 years and knows just how difficult it is to stick around in this town. “But once you’re here and you’ve been around for a year or two, how could you ever leave?” His three years in Park City and a stint in Tahoe led him to love the quiet-but-driven community of the Eastern Sierra Nevada. The people who love this place are willing to fight for it; they want to make it better and more accessible for their community, and Deaver wants to give them a meeting place to talk about local issues.
