Girl(s) Nights Out
Or Random (but recent) Snapshot #3 from the Love, Friendship and Gastronomy Digital Girl Album
This week, ladies and g's, a relationship snapshot of a different kind. No matter the men I've dated or the gastronomic and other imprints they have left upon my heart. No matter their comings and goings, their waffling and brooding, their lacking or overzealous appetites. There is always one loving constant... the Girls. Leaving or left, broken-hearted or relieved, they are always there to help put the shattered pieces of my heart back in place with hot pink superglue guns and strong cocktails. And, also, they are there even when my heart doesn't need to be put back together.
My friends, it has been a happy/sad week. V., one of my favorite Girls, has departed the East Coast and become a resident of LA. Happy for her... she is moving for love and adventure. Sad for me... one of my most ardent fellow cocktail appreciators is no longer minutes away from meeting me for a drink after a long hard day or taking my half-drunk broken heart to Grey Dog for a grilled cheese and fries immediately following a break-up talk.
Sigh.
It was, of course, impossible for V. to leave without a liquor-imbibed send off. And, so it was that we were out until 4:00 a.m. on Monday (or rather Tuesday) drinking. I wish I could describe each drink in detail, but it was a marathon evening, and frankly, I didn't plan to blog about it. I was instead going to give you a snapshot from Lost Artist or Nice Eyes, but my friendship with V. means much more to me than my past relationships with them, so that didn't make much sense.
The night began at Little Branch. We opened the unmarked door on 7th Avenue South and Leroy and descended into the darkness. The speakeasy seemed empty, and I hesitated blinking into the dimly lit basement until the bartender said, "Don't be afraid." Ha, ha, I laughed, feeling foolish and completely enchanted by his charm and gentlemanly demeanor. Okay, yes, I have the hots for one of the bartenders at Little Branch. There. It's out in the open.
Okay then. V. and I were escorted to a cozy table for two where we both ordered a bartender's choice: bourbon based and strong as opposed to refreshing or sweet. I received a bourbon sour and V. a Cock-and-Bull, which had a heavenly yet subtle citrus tone. I can only say, that bartender has more than charm; his mixing and shaking skills are quite sublime.
Our plan had been one cocktail and then Two Boots pizza, but neither one of us could leave without a second. We ordered the same round and swapped drinks.
Two split slices at Two Boots, two split slices at Vinny Vincenz and a stop at Birdbath Bakery for amazing cookies later, we were at Louis 649 on 9th Street and Avenue C, scene of my first and thus far only fling with Pappy Van Winkle.
Continuing my bourbon exploration, I ordered Buffalo Trace on the rocks. The bottle had an epic tale on the back about the bourbon, but after two stiff ones (drinks that is) at Little Branch, V. and I couldn't focus enough to read it. Not good enough to knock me off my bar stool, but quite drinkable nonetheless. Peppery, as my brother K. noted in an e-mail earlier this week.
Our party expanded from two to five at Louis 649. We could have stayed there all night. Louis has that type of inviting atmosphere. The bartender seems to treat everyone like an old friend. Love that. And, their menu is fantastically large and full of countless liquors. But, we had a midnight reservation elsewhere.
We walked over to St. Mark's and sauntered nonchalantly into Crif Dogs. V. slipped into the phone booth. A few moments later, we followed her, like spies in the night, through the booth and into PDT (Please Don't Tell), another dark basement speakeasy.
Between the five of us, I think we sampled 50% of the menu. Cocktail enjoyment was hit or miss, though I had two really strong flavorful concoctions. We ordered veggie dogs, fries and tater tots to go with our fancy-pantie drinks. As we sipped and munched, stuffed beavers, frogs, and bears stared down on us from above with a maniacal eye.
It is certainly a different speakeasy experience than Little Branch. But, so many cocktails! So many ingredients! So many tastes! It is a lushes' Candy Land. Oh, how I do wish I had taken notes.
After two drinks and last call at PDT, we closed out and three of us wandered over to Key Bar on 13th Street. I had a large glass of water and a Rollo shot which was complimentary. None of the three of us really wanted to say goodbye. So, we drank until almost 3:30, and exhausted, hopped in a cab and headed to our respective residences.
Three hours after I went to bed, I got up to go to work about the same time that V. was getting into a car to go to the airport. The best thing about this parting is that we aren't actually "breaking up." And, we've decided to have specialty cocktails by phone at least once a month.
Our first cocktail hour(s) is Tuesday and the secret ingredients are vodka, cucumber and cayenne. And, I know, the next time I'm standing on 14th Street with a broken heart, I can get my grilled cheese to go and just call V. to talk about why it all went wrong. So, the move to LA isn't so bad after all.
Stay tuned!
Or Random (but recent) Snapshot #3 from the Love, Friendship and Gastronomy Digital Girl Album
This week, ladies and g's, a relationship snapshot of a different kind. No matter the men I've dated or the gastronomic and other imprints they have left upon my heart. No matter their comings and goings, their waffling and brooding, their lacking or overzealous appetites. There is always one loving constant... the Girls. Leaving or left, broken-hearted or relieved, they are always there to help put the shattered pieces of my heart back in place with hot pink superglue guns and strong cocktails. And, also, they are there even when my heart doesn't need to be put back together.
My friends, it has been a happy/sad week. V., one of my favorite Girls, has departed the East Coast and become a resident of LA. Happy for her... she is moving for love and adventure. Sad for me... one of my most ardent fellow cocktail appreciators is no longer minutes away from meeting me for a drink after a long hard day or taking my half-drunk broken heart to Grey Dog for a grilled cheese and fries immediately following a break-up talk.
Sigh.
It was, of course, impossible for V. to leave without a liquor-imbibed send off. And, so it was that we were out until 4:00 a.m. on Monday (or rather Tuesday) drinking. I wish I could describe each drink in detail, but it was a marathon evening, and frankly, I didn't plan to blog about it. I was instead going to give you a snapshot from Lost Artist or Nice Eyes, but my friendship with V. means much more to me than my past relationships with them, so that didn't make much sense.
The night began at Little Branch. We opened the unmarked door on 7th Avenue South and Leroy and descended into the darkness. The speakeasy seemed empty, and I hesitated blinking into the dimly lit basement until the bartender said, "Don't be afraid." Ha, ha, I laughed, feeling foolish and completely enchanted by his charm and gentlemanly demeanor. Okay, yes, I have the hots for one of the bartenders at Little Branch. There. It's out in the open.
Okay then. V. and I were escorted to a cozy table for two where we both ordered a bartender's choice: bourbon based and strong as opposed to refreshing or sweet. I received a bourbon sour and V. a Cock-and-Bull, which had a heavenly yet subtle citrus tone. I can only say, that bartender has more than charm; his mixing and shaking skills are quite sublime.
Our plan had been one cocktail and then Two Boots pizza, but neither one of us could leave without a second. We ordered the same round and swapped drinks.
Two split slices at Two Boots, two split slices at Vinny Vincenz and a stop at Birdbath Bakery for amazing cookies later, we were at Louis 649 on 9th Street and Avenue C, scene of my first and thus far only fling with Pappy Van Winkle.
Continuing my bourbon exploration, I ordered Buffalo Trace on the rocks. The bottle had an epic tale on the back about the bourbon, but after two stiff ones (drinks that is) at Little Branch, V. and I couldn't focus enough to read it. Not good enough to knock me off my bar stool, but quite drinkable nonetheless. Peppery, as my brother K. noted in an e-mail earlier this week.
Our party expanded from two to five at Louis 649. We could have stayed there all night. Louis has that type of inviting atmosphere. The bartender seems to treat everyone like an old friend. Love that. And, their menu is fantastically large and full of countless liquors. But, we had a midnight reservation elsewhere.
We walked over to St. Mark's and sauntered nonchalantly into Crif Dogs. V. slipped into the phone booth. A few moments later, we followed her, like spies in the night, through the booth and into PDT (Please Don't Tell), another dark basement speakeasy.
Between the five of us, I think we sampled 50% of the menu. Cocktail enjoyment was hit or miss, though I had two really strong flavorful concoctions. We ordered veggie dogs, fries and tater tots to go with our fancy-pantie drinks. As we sipped and munched, stuffed beavers, frogs, and bears stared down on us from above with a maniacal eye.
It is certainly a different speakeasy experience than Little Branch. But, so many cocktails! So many ingredients! So many tastes! It is a lushes' Candy Land. Oh, how I do wish I had taken notes.
After two drinks and last call at PDT, we closed out and three of us wandered over to Key Bar on 13th Street. I had a large glass of water and a Rollo shot which was complimentary. None of the three of us really wanted to say goodbye. So, we drank until almost 3:30, and exhausted, hopped in a cab and headed to our respective residences.
Three hours after I went to bed, I got up to go to work about the same time that V. was getting into a car to go to the airport. The best thing about this parting is that we aren't actually "breaking up." And, we've decided to have specialty cocktails by phone at least once a month.
Our first cocktail hour(s) is Tuesday and the secret ingredients are vodka, cucumber and cayenne. And, I know, the next time I'm standing on 14th Street with a broken heart, I can get my grilled cheese to go and just call V. to talk about why it all went wrong. So, the move to LA isn't so bad after all.
Stay tuned!
Yes- only a phonecall and a phonedrink away...for smiles, for tears, for boring evenings...anytime and always.
ReplyDelete"laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you cry with your girlfriends." ~Laurie Kulansky