Busy weekend part one (Friday - Milk&Honey)
My friend Mick's daughter Abby is about to turn 18. I know, I know - it seems but a moment ago that she was a scabby-kneed kid of twelve etc etc. Except that kids aren't scabby-kneed at the age of twelve these days, because they're all inside web-chatting, texting and ironing their hair rather than running around and falling over. But anyway, I digress.
She's turning 18, and so we reckon on showing her a proper grown-up night out in town. I am fondly imagining that this would have been wildly exciting to me at the age of 18, and even if I am wrong on this, she's far too polite to disabuse us of this notion.
In order to ensure that this is an evening of high sophistication, I enlisted the assistance of a resident girl-about-town from my office to compile a shortlist of venues. We have now commenced the arduous process of road-testing these bars (*sigh* - the selfless things I do!).
We began on Friday night with Milk&Honey - a members' only bar in Poland Street. It is just a tad on what you would call the pretentious side. For example, it has no sign outside, non-members are restricted to booking tables for 2 hour time slots (and you have to book 24 hours in advance) and there is a prominently displayed set of rules inside the door that range from the rather pleasant ("Gentlemen will not introduce themselves to ladies") to the utterly w*nky ("Gentlemen will remove their hats. Hooks are provided"). Also, it is without a shadow of a doubt, the darkest establishment I have ever been in.
This, of course, is a bit of a bonus on a bad-hair / coffee-stain / snagged stockings / pulsing blemish kind of day. But I must say that it left very little opportunity for the rest of the room to admire my fine shoes.
And it also made reading the cocktail menu almost totally impossible. I suppose the idea is that the cognoscenti don't need the menu and simply request "another of the usual", or go off-piste with whatever drink-du-jour the beautiful people are supping at that moment.
Sadly, the three of us (Mick, Sarah and me) were neither cognoscent (is that a word?) nor beautiful, and therefore had to grimace in the dark at the tiny letters by light of a single candle. (The people sitting at the next table to us had no problem with broadcasting their own lack of cognisance/beauty, and used a mobile phone for illumination.)
I am hereby establishing a sub-set of the World Famous Entertainment & Economy (TM) index specifically for cocktail bars (since "economy" is something of a relative term in this context). Anyway, the E&E-CBTM index gives this place the thumbs up. It's about the same price as any other cocktail bar (£7), but for your money you get a whiff of exclusivity, some excellent cocktails, and the most charming staff you can imagine. It's also pleasantly quiet for a Friday night. "Pleasantly quiet", mark you, not "dead" - i.e. you get a table, rapid service, and no risk of some braying meejah knobhead putting a fag burn in your jacket.
But, despite the approval of the E&E-CBTM index, this venue got the thumbs down for the Big Birthday Night. On the grounds that the cocktail menu only stretched to two pages, rather than the more prolific 25 pages at LAB bar and Townhouse. So a further reconnaissance mission is required... Oh, the hardship!
She's turning 18, and so we reckon on showing her a proper grown-up night out in town. I am fondly imagining that this would have been wildly exciting to me at the age of 18, and even if I am wrong on this, she's far too polite to disabuse us of this notion.
In order to ensure that this is an evening of high sophistication, I enlisted the assistance of a resident girl-about-town from my office to compile a shortlist of venues. We have now commenced the arduous process of road-testing these bars (*sigh* - the selfless things I do!).
We began on Friday night with Milk&Honey - a members' only bar in Poland Street. It is just a tad on what you would call the pretentious side. For example, it has no sign outside, non-members are restricted to booking tables for 2 hour time slots (and you have to book 24 hours in advance) and there is a prominently displayed set of rules inside the door that range from the rather pleasant ("Gentlemen will not introduce themselves to ladies") to the utterly w*nky ("Gentlemen will remove their hats. Hooks are provided"). Also, it is without a shadow of a doubt, the darkest establishment I have ever been in.
This, of course, is a bit of a bonus on a bad-hair / coffee-stain / snagged stockings / pulsing blemish kind of day. But I must say that it left very little opportunity for the rest of the room to admire my fine shoes.
And it also made reading the cocktail menu almost totally impossible. I suppose the idea is that the cognoscenti don't need the menu and simply request "another of the usual", or go off-piste with whatever drink-du-jour the beautiful people are supping at that moment.
Sadly, the three of us (Mick, Sarah and me) were neither cognoscent (is that a word?) nor beautiful, and therefore had to grimace in the dark at the tiny letters by light of a single candle. (The people sitting at the next table to us had no problem with broadcasting their own lack of cognisance/beauty, and used a mobile phone for illumination.)
I am hereby establishing a sub-set of the World Famous Entertainment & Economy (TM) index specifically for cocktail bars (since "economy" is something of a relative term in this context). Anyway, the E&E-CBTM index gives this place the thumbs up. It's about the same price as any other cocktail bar (£7), but for your money you get a whiff of exclusivity, some excellent cocktails, and the most charming staff you can imagine. It's also pleasantly quiet for a Friday night. "Pleasantly quiet", mark you, not "dead" - i.e. you get a table, rapid service, and no risk of some braying meejah knobhead putting a fag burn in your jacket.
But, despite the approval of the E&E-CBTM index, this venue got the thumbs down for the Big Birthday Night. On the grounds that the cocktail menu only stretched to two pages, rather than the more prolific 25 pages at LAB bar and Townhouse. So a further reconnaissance mission is required... Oh, the hardship!
posted by OboeJane at 3:41 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home