Reviews of The Cocktail Bar

Liquid hideways by Sybil Kapoor. The Spectator magazine

Last year in a nod towards austerity, I gave up my memberhip to Milk & Honey, a cocktail club in Soho. I rationalised that as a non-member, I could still book a dimly lit, silver-toned booth downstairs to enjoy their delicious Penicillin - a reviving concoction of peathy whisky, honey, ginger and lemon - at least until 11pm. However, as I sipped my farewell M&H dry martini, made with a twist of lemon and some fragrant Junipero gin, it struck me that there is something comforting in having a regular drinking den. Clearly, research was needed.

My requirements were simple: superlative cocktails, convivial atmosphere and within walking distance of home. Life takes on a different perspective if you can stroll through London streets after a negroni or two. As I quizzed friends on their favourite hidden drinking dens, it emerged that bars are like old slippers; they're loved because they fit comfortably with the drinker's personality. Was I the sort of person who enjoyed tumbling down the stairs of the St Moritz in Soho, or more of a sophisticated Dukes bar drinker? Did I like keeping classic, or prefer a more modern approach? There was only one way to find out.

I started my research with Purl, a basement bar in Marylebone that specialises in molecular mixology, the latest fashion in cocktails. According to director Tristan Stephenson, this means using liquid nitrogen, foams, fogs, dry ice and sperification (tiny jellied balls of flavoured liquid) to create drinks that still resonate with the past. Think Ferran Adria meets Dale DeGroff. If it were not  for the burly doormanyou could easily pass by Purl's railings without knowing that the 18th C vaults beneath your feet were full of Londoners quaffing Mr Hyde's Fixer Upper  (made from smoke-injected Ron Zucapa rum). The extreme chilling of liquid nitrogen changes both the taste and the texture of alcohol, making even the driest martini strangely sweet and syrupy. So, molecular mixology was struck off the list. 

Several people had mentioned Bart's, a speakeasy bar with no address. Since it was hidden within Chelsea Cloisters, it was going to have to be very good to justify the walk across London. It proved to be more like a private Sloane-ranger club - youthful, jolly and obliging, with a list of colourful, sweet cocktails that you could pour from a teapot. It failed on quality, so my drinking character was taking shape: I needed sophistication.

My next choice was another recommendation: Dukes Bar at Dukes Hotel, famed for its martinis. Very St James's with its midnight blue velvet chairs and well-travelled clientele. You might think that one martini is much like another, but you'd be wrong. Dukes Bar serves a 'naked' martini. A frozen glass is sprayed with the merest hint of vermouth before neat gin or vodka is poured into the glass, straight from the freezer. No stirring or shaking over ice - this is pure alcohol, finished with a twist of Amalfi lemon peel. You need more than a bowl of nuts o stay focused after such a drink. 

Trusted friends within the drinks world had told me that I also had to visit the upstairs bar at Rules restaurant in Covent Garden, as under the auspices of Brian Silva it had become the place for top notch cocktails.It's tucked above the restaurant and is curiously reminiscent of an Oxford pub with its swirly burgundy carpet, undulating floor, latticed windows and hunting scenes. Looking round, there were non of the glamorous blondes and media types that you find amid the buzz of Mark's, downstairs at Hix in Soho. Nor were there the strange drinks combinations that you get at the Experimental Cocktail Club in Gerrard Street, such as sweet chilli pepper puree in vodka. Instead, there is a convivial atmosphere, comfortable seats and perfectly balanced, utterly delicious drinks made with true sensitivity. As Brian Silva explains, ' I try to modernise drinks by retaining their balance.' The small drinks menu changes regularily, but like all true bars, they can read their customers well and create exquisite drinks to suit their taste. It is the sort of place you feel that Samuel Johnson might have enjoyed had he discovered cocktails rather than tea. I'd found my new drinking den.

GAME ON AT LONDON'S BEST NEW BAR

It was a cold and wet evening. I was in London's famous West End to meet HS but being a bit early I'd whiled away some time in Stanfords looking at maps and planning our next Iberian adventure. There was still some time to kill before we met up so I went looking for a small boîte where I could have a quiet drink and contemplate life, the universe and well, everything.

All the pubs were full, packed with the lager swilling B&T crowd. As I passed Rules Restaurant I thought about DH's last visit to this famous old institution. I remembered an old guy lunching by himself. He'd been seated at what was his usual table and was brought what was his usual drink: a Martini. Very dry. Very cold. With a twist. Maybe Rules had a bar ?

I entered and enquired if I could just have a drink. The FOH motioned towards a door I'd never noticed before. I went through the door and up the stairs where a member of staff welcomed me with a friendly "Will you be joining us for a drink this evening ?". I liked this place immediately. The bar was small with just a handful of tables, some occupied by groups enjoying a preprandial glass of champagne.

I ordered a Dry Martini. It came in a chilled conical glass and was very good. I chatted with the bartender, Michael, about cocktails, unusual bitters and the like and ordered another drink. This time a Negroni, made with Cinzano Orancio and finished with some Poire William. An excellent cocktail with all the flavours coming through separately yet working
perfectly in unison. This was obviously a place which took its drinks seriously. I needed to find out more. This was obviously a job for that student (for we never stop learning) of the cocktail: Hermano Segundo.

HERMANO SEGUNDO SPEAKS
Regular readers of the blog will have noticed that HP is the less binary of DH. He is more forgiving of bad restaurants (well, some anyway) and less gushing about good ones. So, as I sat at the bar of The Cork & Bottle on Saturday, sipping on a very good but very expensive Albariño, I was surprised to receive an effusive phone call from him regaling tales of a new and “secret” bar just opened in a former private dining room at London’s oldest restaurant, Rules.

Cocktails are rapidly becoming an obsession with me to rival that of food (cut to image of image of Dr Choudry shaking head as he looks at reports of high liver enzymes) and I truly believe that the great cocktail mixers are as talented and passionate as great chefs. They are usually nicer people too, but that’s story’s for another time.

The man in charge is Brian Silva. Formerly of The Connaught and one of the revered quartet old school of bartenders that included Salvatore Calabrese, Peter Dorelli from the American Bar at The Savoy and Gilberto Preti of Duke’s, Brian has now turned his considerable skills to the revival of the bar at Rules and has created what is arguably the most interesting back bar in the city with many bottles from his own collection.

After making sure he was due to be working, DH bundled up on a cold Tuesday night to find Brian busy mixing Sazeracs, the oldest cocktail of all, for a couple at the bar and we quickly decided that we should stand and watch the expert rather than sit on the rather uncomfortable seats. Usually, I am slightly didactic when it comes to cocktails believing that the mixer’s skill in making one of five cocktails (for the record, The Manhattan, The Martini, The Sazerac, The Old Fashioned and The Daquiri) tells you all you need to know, but when presented with a man of Brian’s provenance and obvious ability I was happy to leave myself in his hands.

What followed was a happy blur of the mixer’s art. Slings, sours, new twists on Bloody Mary’s and even a slightly wicked concoction using Absinthe, which I had to push away for fear of the inevitable consequences. Like a successful tasting menu in a great restaurant, not everything worked for me but the flawless execution in the making was apparent. Also like me, Brian thinks cocktails should be about booze and balance not fruit. In an age when untrained barmen think throwing as many berries in a glass and adding 'tini at the end of the name is cocktail making, his mixing is a welcome oasis to so much of the dross out there.

It is not all flawless, but appropriately for a place that has changed glacially over the last two centuries, Rules is taking it steady and doing it properly. Some sofas are being made for those of a larger behind and gamey bar snacks will soon be on offer alongside the slabs of well kept Monty’s Cheddar already available. With cocktails beginning at £10.50, comparable to many hotels and mixing of this quality, DH have quickly marked down this little gem of a bar as one of our “go to” places when the wicked world gets too much for us.

Review Courtsey of www.doshermanos.co.uk

Brian Silva....In The Press.. Extracts

...Brian had just invented it. It was based on saki-infused vodka and two different types of vermouth, and it had a subtle strawberry flavour.  Sounds like a supercharged vodkatini...hang on, wasn't it Brian who used to serve those moreish Martinis in the Penguin Bar at Scott's in Mount Street?. The very same. How did Brian find his way to The Connaught? He was head barman at Home House in Portman Square before he went to Scott's, and is pretty well known in the trade. At a guess, I'd say Gordon Ramsey and Angela Hartnett already had their eyes on him when Scotts closed...He's a classic head barman. Been in the business for nearly 30 years, knows his way around a Manhattan and a Tom Collins, and, with a little encouragement, he'll make you your own personalised cocktail. Oh, and he's an American - from Boston.

...His bartending career began in the hotel bar of The Colonnade  in Boston, Massachusetts, in his mid-20s, since when he has worked in various high-profile bars. His is more than just an understanding of the products he works with, its a passion for thier characters. First he pulled out a twist on a classic Vesper. He used Gordon's gin dating back to the 50's, a measure of Cinzano Orancio - the first time I had seen this since the early 80's - a dash of Madeira vermouth, stirred and served straight up in a frozen glass, garnished with an orange twist. The aromas of orange and heady juniper floated across the bar as it was poured. If you've ever had one of those moments when you can almost taste food before it has arrived in front of you, then you'll know what it was like. The gin sang from the glass and the orange string section provided a perfect background to the concentrated gin flavours. You really don't come across this sort of drink very often.

Next up was a Cosmopolitan, the ubiquitous American sitcom cocktail, much massacred by bartenders around the globe. Again it was readjusted from the original to display perfectly the new-found attributes of a bottle of nearly 40-year-old Cointreau. Brian added 25ml Grey Goose, 50 ml Cointreau, 10ml freh lime juice and enough cranberry to provide a rose hue. But the surprises didn't finish there. Once shaken, it was poured gently into an original Savoy Hotel Champagne coupe, as old as the Cointreau itself. I was all too ready for an over-sweet, dry orange experience, but the balance was spot on. It was one of the finest I had tasted.....Restaurant Magazine.

"London is the best cocktail city in the world right now", Audrey Saunders said. "I hate to admit it, but it's true".  The confession is difficult because Ms Saunders, an owner of the Pegu Club on Houston Street, is seen as the torchbearer for New York City's own bartending resurgence. But she has sampled beverages from Paris to Tortola, and she is convinced that London has more bartenders turning out more sophisticated drinks than any other place.  "If I hadn't started Pegu Club, I'd probably be in London. I just love what's going on in the scene. The bartenders are so extraordinary - the professionalism and the skill level and the passion"

.....My desert island luxury is Brian Silva and a bar. Mr Silva, who comes from Boston, has been tending London Bars for 25 years and is found behind a classic mahogany number next to the grand piano in the underdecorated, old-school Connaught Hotel. "When I go back to the U.S.A everything seems sweet", he said. "Flavored vodkas, flowers and bits and pieces - pinkie-raising drinks. No, all my cocktails are made with alcohol. Of all the gin joints in London, Mr Silva's may be the one with the most inviting bar stools and some of the most creative drinks, like Le Blond, a champagne cocktail involving absinthe, French liqueurs and pepper vodka... The New York Times

 

 

Simon Majumdar

It may be unfashionable to admit it in these days of political correctness and government nannying, but I do love booze. I adore it and my flat is full of the stuff; bottles of good beer in the fridge waiting to be served with a slice of pork pie, bottles of crisp white wines chilling ready for summer and bottles of powerful reds for the days when only roast beef and a glass of claret will do.

Above all, there is my collection of spirits. Dozens of bottles, from the standard, well-known brands of gin, whisky and vodka to the sort of mystery spirits that taste so good on holiday that we are persuaded to mule some home, but then leave them unloved and untouched gathering dust for years until we finally throw them away.

None of this is to suggest I have a problem or a tendency to get rolling drunk. I don’t. I actually drink very moderately, but the taste of a beautifully balanced wine or a perfectly mixed cocktail is a thing of extraordinary beauty to me and as impressive as any multi-course tasting menu prepared by a chef with any number of stars to their name.

Cocktail making is, to me, one of the great underappreciated art forms and on many nights I can be seen propping up the bar of one of London’s finest establishments sampling one of the five drinks I use to test the expertise of any self-proclaimed cocktail mixer; the Martini, the Old Fashioned, the Manhattan, the Daiquiri and the signature drink of New Orleans, the Sazerac.

There is nowhere to hide with these drinks, they are all about balancing the spirits. Just as you can tell a workaday chef from one with true talent by how deftly they prepare a simple omelette or a steak, so too you can tell the quality of a cocktail maker by how they perform when separated from the safety net of fruit juices and garnishes.

Brian Silva is one of the best. A transplanted Bostonian who learned his trade in that city’s Colonnade Hotel before a relationship brought him across the ocean to London in 1989 where his skills found a home at a number of bars and clubs. He then spent a number of years at The Connaught Hotel, which allowed him the opportunity to help create and helm the new bar in one of London’s oldest restaurants, Rules.

Brian sees London as the very centre of the cocktail world and professes to “love what is happening in the cocktail scene right now”, expressing admiration for a new generation of young mixologists who, inspired by chefs such as Heston Blumethal and Ferran Adria, are bringing the skills of molecular gastronomy to bear on their drinks.

But for Brian, at heart, happiness is in the classics and you can tell from his vast back-bar, filled only with the very best spirits.

“Respect for alcohol is everything,” he murmured as he poured the contents of a shaker carefully into a chilled martini glass before twisting a lemon peel to create that slick of citrus oil that makes this drink the king of all cocktails.

The first sip brings a pleasing shudder from the iced gin, the second the slight aftertaste of the vermouth used to wash the glass. If you ever wanted proof that God exists it's here. For me, it has to be with a lemon twist, but you can also have it with an olive.

Watching Brian at work is an extraordinary experience. On the one hand he coaxes a nervous customer away from the obvious choices, “almost always the mojito” he says rolling his eyes, to try something a little more adventurous from his repertoire. On the other, he deals with irritating people like me who specify their drink to the last shake or stir, but need reminding that someone of Brian’s provenance probably knows best.

His technique is flawless, unhurried and considered, showing respect for the spirit that is his watchword. The final results are worth the wait, invariably with a perfect balance to the key components.

Brian was lucky enough to share one of his favouritie recipes with me. It is well worth trying at home, but even better when prepared by one of London’s finest cocktail makers.

THE NEGRONI No4

50ml Tanqueray Gin

25ml Campari

15ml Martini Rosato

10ml Dubonnet

Add all the ingredients to an iced shaker. Stir to mix and strain into a chilled old-fashioned glass. Garnish with a twist of lemon.

 

THURSDAY, 10 SEPTEMBER 2009 

Looking back now, to those bleak, monochrome days before I ate the Rules grouse, I suppose I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I had high hopes, of course, mainly thanks to Simon Majumdar and his giddy tour of the kitchens a few weeks back, and was also looking forward to trying the cocktails in the (still relatively new) Rules Bar upstairs. But it seemed like an odd venue - I was worried that, sitting on the reputation as London's Oldest Restaurant and therefore able to suck in enough heritage-starved American tourists and blousy Old Boys to keep the profits ticking over through good times and bad, that Rules didn't actually need to be any good at all. And, it goes without saying, very few of the places that don't need to be good actually, well, are. I was worried it would be staid, overpriced, stuffy, stifling and stressful. In the end, it was none of those things, and in fact turned out to the most wonderful evening I've enjoyed in a very long time.

Events began in the dark-panelled, carpeted luxury of the upstairs bar, and with the creation of a drink called the Golden Negroni. Like all good cocktails, there was that balance of familiar comforting flavours and just a hint of the mysterious. Apparently lurking in it somewhere was a touch of Poire William. It was remarkably easy to drink. While waiting for various members of our party to arrive, I was invited to sit at the bar itself and watch the mixing of my next order up close. Called the Edge, it contained fresh grated horseradish and tasted of cosy evenings in front of a log fire. Perhaps not very seasonal, but delicious nonetheless.

After an hour or so of blissful contentment which passed as if it was five minutes, it was time to move downstairs and take our seats for dinner. With its high ceilings and walls covered in memorabilia and paraphernalia, Rules feels every one of its 211 years old. How nice, though, to be in a restaurant that has gathered its mementos and photographs honestly and gradually over many years, instead of buying them all at once in a bid to invent an illustrious past like so many gastropubs. This is a place with real history, and a confidence in its own reputation as a London dining destination. And we were about to find out why.

My starter was Morecambe Bay potted shrimps, one of my favourite comfort foods at the best of times, but here, thanks to Rules' use of lobster butter to bind the sweet crustaceans together, it took on a new, luxurious identity. I will admit that my knowledge of potted shrimp was previously limited to the little plastic pots you can buy at foodie markets, but even so, these were lovely. And although my dish came on the back of a recommendation from His Maj, the standards of the other starters on our table were equally high - in particularly a gorgeous dressed crab with a perfectly balanced brown meat mix.

And then the grouse. It will give you an idea of how very reasonable the prices are in this restaurant when I tell you that this labour-intensive, hand caught game bird was at only £27.50 the most expensive item on the Rules menu last night. But in this blogger's humble opinion, the experience it delivered was close to priceless. Served with crispy bacon, some duck liver paté on toast and the traditional game chips, the only slightly unusual element was a few sprigs of highland heather protruding from the back of the bird. And yet almost before the first bite of the gorgeously pink, moist meat had reached my lips, I knew this was going to be something special. The smell - oh, lordy, the smell - it was of open countryside, highland moors and healthy living. It was an aroma that did more than simply get the taste buds going, it assaulted my emotions directly, whisking me back to childhood trips to Cumbria and of long walks on hot summer's days. And it was no less affecting in the mouth - to call the flavour "gamey" is to not even touch the surface of how extraordinarily, wonderfully powerful the flavour of this little bird was - a deep, rich flavour like no other animal I've ever tasted. I ate in stunned, intense silence, methodically pulling every bit of the carcass apart and savouring every last morsel of offal from inside and out. Later in the evening I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror; I had grouse blood splattered down the front of my white shirt and looked like Sweeney Todd after a particularly busy day. I was so overwhelmed I hadn't even noticed at the time.

After dinner, we moved back upstairs once again and allowed Brian Silva, the head barman, to gently bring us down from our game-fuelled high with a plate of Colton Basset stilton and Pedro Ximines dessert sherry. We chatted happily across the bar and drank wonderful cocktails until we were the last people in the room. It was a magical evening, one of those nights where every element of every bite and slurp brings joy and each moment slides blissfully into the next. But it was the grouse that was the star of an evening not short of highlights. That I recommend Rules as a restaurant should by now be obvious - you absolutely, positively have to go, and soon, before the season is over. It's just too good to miss.

9/10 From Urban Spoon

Rules Restaurant, Covent Garden, London

London, a place that just screams BUSY at you. So it was with surprise that when I first ventured into Rules and asked the doorman if I could visit the bar, that I found myself alone with my server being Brian, the bar manager. [No Doorman? Just pop inside and ask.]

Whilst my first visit may have been on a drizzly Tuesday afternoon, the place is literally a stones throw from the main hubris of Covent Garden Plaza. Had I stumbled upon a secret place, or was I going to be let down – I wasn’t too sure. The reason for the visit, I asked the simple question of ‘Where do you think the best cocktail bar in central London is?’, something that could be a divisive question; afterall everyone has their favourites. A variety of responses came back, but Rules Cocktail Bar was one of the closest places to me and most common answers, from a lot of people I respect.

Since that visit I’ve returned on many occasions, to sample the cocktails and work through the ‘menu’. It’s a refreshing change to the cocktail menu, only consisting of 10 drinks. Though of course, the staff are well versed and have always been able to serve old classics, as well as other new twists on drinks that were on menus past, and menus future.

Charles II - At Rules

Many a time I’ve just asked for a ‘nice’ Gin cocktail, and it was Brian (a true gentleman, and legend) who made me a Charles II (Maraschino, Chartreuse, Jensen’s Old Tom). Beside looking rather pretty, the taste was sublime with well balanced flavours, and proved rather easy to imbibe.

 

If you do manage to get a seat at the bar, make sure to strike up a conversation about spirits, cocktail history etc if that’s your kind of thing, I’ve always found the staff willing to share ideas as well as learning a bit more about cocktails.

I’ll warn you now, be careful when you get asked if you would like one more drink, there have been occasions where that one drink turned to four. I can’t blame them, it’s just my lack of willpower, which once meant I kept delaying a radio interview I was meant to be giving. By the time I got around to doing the phone interview, I was a little bit too well lubricated!

Pricewise, this is certainly at the higher end of the scale with most drinks being around the £10-12 mark, plus service. That said, for the knowledge of the staff (just the other night we ended up discussing the type of icecube they use!), the quality of the drink, as well as the standard of ‘bar snacks’ (which have in the past involved a salmon terrine and foie gras, not a pickled egg in sight!).

The décor is rather antiquated, after all this is Rules (Londons oldest restaurant since 1798 – full history link: ), with a mixture of plus sofas, chairs, barstools, and just a rather pleasant atmosphere.

Whilst it might not be your regular drinking haunt, if you are just passing through London it’s worth a visit, and if you are based in London then you have no excuses not to pop in at least once. I’ve never had a bad drink here, and even though the drinks may be dear we all need to treat ourselves at some point!

Oh and don’t forget, Rules is a great restaurant too, so why not head down for food and then back up for après cocktails!



Atmosphere: 9/10
Staff: 9/10
Price: 8/10
Drinks: 9/10
Overall 8.75/10

Location: 35 Maiden Lane, Covent Garden, London WC2E 7LB
Website: Rules Restaurant

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