It’s a long time since I descended (descended, like underground; like checking out the fire escapes like Jason Bourne, or because I’m just paranoid rather than really a spy) into a dark bar of loud music and bareshouldered couples but I’ve been hanging out in Covent Garden lately and I think that makes me quite cool. Well, cooler than I’ve been for a long time, so probably a little less cool than most… especially as I’m only there for a poetry class.
This was a beautiful bar, like I had forgotten bars could be, like sinking into a black velvet evening. We specifically booked a quiet corner, and even though the music was not really to my liking, it made for an atmospheric backdrop as we read intriguing cocktail menus to candlelight and considered that the date next to us would be going better if ‘he’ stopped talking about himself and his really dull sounding job (should take a poetry class or summat).
Here are some examples of the cocktails: Parsley Daiquiri – probably doesn’t need too much explaining.
And Beetroot Louisianne: beetroot rye, sweet vermouth, Benedictine, salt, peychauds(do you pronounce the ‘e’? The bar staff forgave us either way)
And on the topic of the bar staff.. they clearly loved their job: the crest fallen face that their alternative to a Cranachan Punch (why did no one think of whiskey, oat milk and raspberries before???) was not the most excellent; and the enthusiastic incitements to order cheese dounuts.
We found the corn cakes, crunchy, semi-sweet, flavoursome… mmmm…. actually superior to the cheese donuts.
In summary the drinks were quite good, the food was pretty good, but the experience was one of its kind romantic.
