Mine's a Sazarac, Mr Szyslak, signature-style. Unless I'm reviewing a bar...
I swept into the side doors at Harvey Nicks like a mad pony in a field of clover. Making for the lifts, I tripped and bashed my head off the cranium of a sideburned Turkish woman, knocking her to the ground in the process. Slightly dazed and mightily fazed by her companions waving chequebooks at me while bellowing “Sue heem!” I zoomed out the way into the relative sanctuary of the elevator.
Tie removed and collar grooved into an unbuttoned manner, I stepped out of the moving box onto the Fourth Floor. Now, for those who haven’t been here before, instead of going right to greet the concierge and reception staffs on an incorrectly first name basis – "Charly” or “Pal” usually work best – I swivelled and headed left at the behest of eh, 'Charly', who marked me and mouthed “Not you again?”
Entering the new space that is the cocktail bar, I realised immediately that something was up. It was my flies, and as such, I was properly relieved. Always check things like that before venturing into a new establishment. Further, always double-check a mirror if you’ve been engaged in ‘toy telescopes’ or some such tittle-tattle.
Anyway, selflessly-conscious, I strolled stridently into the bar, which was empty apart from a couple of old ladies who looked like they couldn’t hear each other, and a couple of shorties on the run from mum in Kitchenware.
First impressions were that this L-shaped space was clean, hard and comfortable – much like the ‘Italia’ bar stools the whole place is apparently modelled on. It’s all clear lines, rounded mahogany, white washed walls, opaque glass and the silverest of stainless steel. Away from the bar bit is a plush leather seating area, with enough croquet-potato poufs to seat 40 St Tropez-tanned hairdressers.
Giving the whole locale an extra-dimension is a four-by-one metre landscape window, which offers a looking-glass over the north of the city.
Reverting my gaze to the back bar, I spied one or two bottles for the first time. As impressive a display as it was, I’m always a sucker for exclusivity, and my eye was turned by the Wyborowa Single Estate, Stolichnaya Elit, Blanton’s Gold Estate and Doorly’s Barbados Rum.
This sort of stuff often transports me to some far-flung departure lounge, and it was from here that I entered into some foreign froth with the informative and refreshingly unformulaic staff.
It seemed that, for the moment, they're sharing many of the drinks on offer on the other side of the fourth floor square. On that basis, I sought out the cocktails exclusive to them, so with a lock and a loadem I ordered a CHANGO SMASH.
The survey said: Buffalo Trace bourbon, lime, vanilla sugar, white chocolate liqueur and mint built with mango nectar and crushed ice in a tall glass. Deliciously moreish chocolate and mango flavours, we dare you to order just the one!
At six pounds a pop, I was delighted to stop and forget my day for next to nix minutes, and the drink, on arrival, did indeed look delicious. Ice cold, it tasted warm and sweet, the blend of flavours complete. It was not too rich, and boasted a spring fudge colour. As it went down freely, I could taste the bourbon on my tongue, the mango on my palette, the chocolate in my throat, the minty air on my teeth, and something of the zing of my favourite cigarette all across my mouth.
It was lovely, and though I had to make a dash – for the Turks turned up, this time waving cash – I will definitely be back to order another one.
Favourite Tipple?
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I recently have become involved in a wine store project (en route to a reataurant that we plan to open, but that is another story) and we took the opportunity to review the usual suspects. Laurent Perrier came out the champ in the $35-$45 range.
Writing this reminds me that there is a cold bottle in the 'fridge, gotta go.
DDM
Writing this reminds me that there is a cold bottle in the 'fridge, gotta go.
DDM
Sir Winston Churchill Pool Roger 1990!
Can it be put on the Pol please
Scrummy!
Chin Chin,
E.
Can it be put on the Pol please
Scrummy!
Chin Chin,
E.
Sorry meant to be : Pol Roger...... not Pool
Ernest wrote:Sir Winston Churchill Pool Roger 1990!
Can it be put on the Pol please
Scrummy!
Chin Chin,
E.
I'm entirely behind Ernest on this one, Pol Roger - I opened a bottle of Pol '93 Cuvee Sir Winston Churchill on the recent birth of my daughter, fabulous!
I have a couple of bottles of ordinary vintage Pol '95 which I'm saving for TVD's return to London!
I have a couple of bottles of ordinary vintage Pol '95 which I'm saving for TVD's return to London!
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