The Cocktail Trading Company

The Cocktail Trading Co. is not easy to find.  Ostensibly, its address at 22 Great Marlborough Street leads to a small residential flat (who knew that actual people actually lived around there?!).  Instead, you have to pop into the bar next door (Central & Co) and head directly downstairs into a tiny wee bar hidden away in the basement.

Like so many other new and trendy joints, The once inside the Cocktail Trading Co. it's cramped, loud and extremely busy.  But none of that seems to be problem - unlike most other basement-based cocktail bars, The Cocktail Trading Co. seem to have managed to make their diminutive little piece of overpriced London real estate feel homely rather than an attempt to crowbar as many covers into the place as possible in the hope that you can sell enough booze to break even.  The feel of the place is almost 70s pub / working men's club chic.  With old records on the wall (I was squeezed in next to a rare Pink Floyd album, something a little vexing as I reckon they should have been playing it rather than displaying it), pint mugs of free monkey nuts and little lampshades on the tables, the place felt genuinely vintage, rather than the more common Hoxton pastiche.  There was even this little piece of 'bar history', for interest:

Then there were the drinks, each of which can be ordered from a cute little A7-sized cocktail book (complete with a crossword in the back, just in case your friends are dull).  These were sensational.  One can choose to go for run-of-the-mill drinks (e.g. bellinis, mojitos, daiquiris). I am afraid eschewed this option in favour of the more exotic, creative concoctions – this is, after all, a "Development Bar".

GrubsterGirl's first choice was the Scout's Honour, a mix of tequila (her favourite), lime juice and smoked marshmallow syrup.  So a sort of re-take on the classic margarita. (By the way, did I mention it was dark?  It was dark.  So the pictures are all a little... grainy.  Sozza, nothing to be done about that.)

Let's start with the presentation, because this is clearly a big thing for these guys.  It's called "Scout's Honour".  So it comes in a tin cup.  With a tin of spam.  And a couple of flame toasted marshmallows (presumably broiled over the camp fire) as a snack.  Pretty damn impressive, no doubt.

The drink itself was pretty good: boozy and smoky, with all the taste of the toasted marshmallow syrup coming through – a good thing, I assure you.  The mint garnish was a bit out of place though, and tended to jar with the more Mexican / margarita flavours of the main attraction.

I opted for the 欢迎到肯塔基州 (trans. Welcome to Kentucky, Have A Nice Day (apparently, although Google Translate thinks otherwise... not that I care, to be honest)).  Described as "the perfect fusion between east and west", this drop mixes bourbon, 'ginger & plum infusion' (whatever that is), yuzu juice (a tart, citrus fruit somewhere in flavour between s grapefruit and a mandarin) and matcha tea (ground green tea).

Again, presentation.  Wow.  Ten out of ten.  It's served in a noodle box.  It's got actual noodles and basil sprouts on top.  The straws look like chopsticks.  Let's face it, that's got to be the reason it's being named as one of the got-to-drink drinks of the minute, right?  Right?

WRONG.  It's gotten that status by being awesome.  It's fantastic, in fact.  Sweet, malty rich notes come through from the bourbon (my drink of choice at the moment, so yeah, I'm biased), followed by a long, spicy finish.  It's very nicely put together.

For seconds, I had the Sauvignon Private Ryan.  This was a hotch potch of calvados, dry sherry, sauvignon blanc, lemon juice and a cardamom and passionfruit syrup.

This was, dare I say it, a touch disappointing.  Not because it wasn't good – it bloody well was – but because it didn’t live up to the list of ingredients.  I lost the calvados and the sherry entirely, and the passionfruit was almost overbearing.  The white wine came through nicely though, like drinking white wine in the sun – leaving GrubsterGirl to say that it "tastes like Argentina".

But, they do give a quid for every drink served to The Royal British Legion's Poppy Appeal.  Which is kinda impressive when you think about it – especially given that Pret a Manger can only rustle up 5p per Christmas sandwich.  So a small, independent cocktail shop is prepared to give 11% of the proceeds of a drink to charity, whereas a massive, multinational company with a turnover of £510 million is only prepared to give away 1.4% of the proceeds of one, highly seasonal, sandwich to charity.  Compare and contrast that, Jules.

Mrs G finished up with a drink entitled For Whom the Bell Bols.  This mixed lavender & chamomile infused genever (the precursor drink to gin, from The Netherlands), golden syrup lemon juice and egg white.  It was garnished with star anise and other spices, and served with a  shortbread biscuit.

This was an absolute bloody triumph.  Somehow warming and milky (despite being perfectly chilled), with rich spicy notes as well as floral flavours coming through.  It was complex, but not overly so.  A perfect pudding drink, said Mrs G.

If quirky containers were the theme of the night, though, then this one won HANDS DOWN.  Seriously.  Sure, it didn’t have noodles.  Or a tin of small and toasted marshmallows.  It didn’t have huge matchsticks that obstinately refused to light.

But it was in a weird glass.

Which, on closer inspection, was a bell.

Seriously.  It's called For Whom the Bell Bols AND IT'S SERVED IN A SODDING BELL.  A BELL.  Which is carefully cupped in a glass of ice so it stays perfectly cold.  This is a GENIUS idea.  Barware skill level achieved: Expert.

 - GrubsterBoy - 

Cocktails at the Ritz

Cocktails at the Ritz.  Just the sound of those words betrays the decadence.  And decedent it was.  A real treat.

The cocktail bar at the Ritz, known as the Rivoli Bar, is certainly vying to knock the Savoy's American Bar off its perch as London's swishest place to imbibe mixed drinks.  Recently refurbished, it has all of the 1920s charm one would expect of the Ritz in general and certainly of their flagship bar.  They've spent that refub money well, though: it is stunning.

We were only stopping in for the one, sadly.  I had the Jalisco Smash, a new take on the classic mint julep, combining aged tequila, shiso leaves (a kind of Japanese herb, similar to mint (in taste, not style)), fennel seeds, lime and cucumber.  It was lovely.  But sadly too short.  Way too short, in fact.  With a julep there's a degree of stirring, which lengthens the drink.  Not here: it was gone in minutes. 

Grubster Girl had the Me Encanta, one of their infamous champagne cocktails, mixing aged tequila, grapefruit infused agave nectar, kaffir lime leaves and champagne.  Again, very nice (and plenty of it this time).  Quite dry (but then champagne cocktails often are) but very tasty. 

 

It was a fantastic experience, it really was.  But I'm not sure I'd rush back, if I'm honest.  Nothing wrong with generally – nothing at all, really – except the numbers on the menu.  The prices are there to remind you of where you are: Caviar can be bought at a snip at £14.50 a gram (supposedly to be accompanied by a particular vodka which comes in at £35 a dram).  Cocktails (what we were there for) start at £19 and go all the way up to a mind blowing £350 per glass (honestly, no joke, but then you're talking a drink mixed with 1910, pre-revolution Bacardi).  This is steep.  Proper steep.  Almost to put one in one's place, I feel, to give you a sense of luxury that is born only from the prices, a sort of Veblen bar.  Against the American Bar's (frankly, I feel, superior) cocktails at £14 a pop (which is still bloody expensive, don’t get me wrong) I just felt it was all a step too far.

 - GrubsterBoy -

Margarita

I know plenty of people who hate (and I mean hate, not dislike, not are less impartial to, I mean hate like the fiery pits of hell type hate) tequila.  GrubsterGirl loves tequila.  Honestly, she actually loves it.  For example, when a Bloody Mary is on the cards, she'll always go for a Bloody Maria (done rather well at The Gilbert Scott).  So we tend to have quite a lot of it in the house most times.

 

The only discernible use that I can find for the stuff is cocktail making.  Sure, the barrel aged stuff has more than a hint of scotch about it and shouldn’t be mixed with anything.  But the hard stuff?  Mix it up.

 

The king of tequila cocktails is quite simple, and it goes like this:

 

Ingredients (per head):

 

Juice of half a lime (about 12.5ml, but some limes are juicier than others)
50ml Golden Tequila (Jose Cuervo will do just fine)
25ml Cointreau
10-25ml Agave Syrup (to taste)

 

Combine all the ingredients in a mixer, add copious amounts of ice, and shake like crazy.  Use the old lime peel to moisten the rim of the glass, and then salt.  We use smoked Maldon sea salt because we're pretentious like that (and because I accidentally bought it when shopping and have been trying to figure out what to do with it since then…).  Add new ice cubes to the glass and strain the contents of the mixer into it.  Serve (with or without pretentious lime wheel decorations).

Beware, this will make a big, strong cocktail.  Which is ideal after a long day of the office but absolutely lethal if you have a second.

 - GrubsterBoy -

The Bar at the Gilbert Scott

The whole Mad Men, 1950s / 1960s New York plush thing has pretty much been done to death already.  But that's not to say that bars aren’t still going to try it, nor is it to say that they aren't (from time to time) going to get it bang on.  The bar at the Gilbert Scott is one of those.

GrubsterGirl and I had eaten brunch in the restaurant already – and sampled the bar's creations as well – but we were there strictly on a reconnaissance, so it made sense to hit the bar and see what they were made of. 

Proceedings began with the Guilia's Julep, a tempting mix of Woodford Reserve bourbon, mint, lime, Fernet Branca, Cynar, cucumber, sage and ginger.  Essentially, an ultra-pimped version of the classic mint julep.  I'm a massive fan of bourbon (and the julep, for that matter) so it was a bit of a no-brainer.  What, quite simply, could there possibly be not to like?

Well, quite a lot, as it turned out.  Sadly, this is one of those drinks that shoots for the moon and not so much ends up in the stars as fizzles out and goes phutt.  There's simply too much in there, too many flavours, which leaves your taste buds a complete mess by the time you're done. This is pretty much their signature drink, but it probably shouldn’t be: I wouldn’t go telling too many people about this if I owned the bar.

GrubsterGirl chose more wisely with her opening salvo, going for a Rhubarb and Ginger Sour with tequila – a choice given to the consumer, the alternative being vodka.  This was an absolutely fantastic little mix; all the right flavours in the right places, very satisfying indeed.

Round 2: For me, an Amber Embers – Campfire infused scotch, apricot and vermouth.  Yes, another whiskey cocktail, what can I say.

Suddenly, The Gilbert Scott had raised its game.  This was magnificent, full of all the smoke, salt, thump and power it promised.  Sure, it's not much to look at - especially considering the other efforts made on the presentation front - but I had to physically restrain myself from gulping.

GrubsterGirl's second choice was the Hibiscus and Chamomile Caipirinha. 

Cachaça (the core ingredient of any Caipirinha) has a strong, distinctive flavour which needs some punchy flavours to be heard above the noise, so I worried that hibiscus and chamomile might be lost.  I needn't have been worried about the hibiscus, which shone through, but I was slightly less impressed by the chamomile – by which I mean, where was it?  When matched to GG's first cup, this one was a bit off the mark.

The bar itself is opulent, in that mid-Century New York way that Campbell Apartments is.  We were there during the day, but by night I can imagine it's quite fantastic.  In fact, the only part I wouldn’t venture into is the garden – which is a shame, but it's situated right on the main road, so traffic just pours by.

And the damage?  Hefty.  Four drinks and semi-mandatory service set us back over £60, which is more than you want, really.  We started going to nice bars after a drink at the Savoy's American bar, which charges roughly £15 a drink – which is more expensive, but the drinks are flawless.  More in their league (and price range), and style, are Hawksmoor's many bars.  But then, their drinks are also pretty damn flawless.

Oh, one other thing.  Whilst we there there, sat up at the bar, the barman brought out a bag of greengages he'd sourced from some local market and set about inventing a new drink - quite unselfconsciously.  Now, I imagine that that's part of your trade, as a cocktail barman, but there's something magical about watching the creation and experimentation process, and it's great - and reassuring - to see someone at work who takes their job seriously enough to be doing that.

 - GrubsterBoy -

Brunch at the Gilbert Scott

I was slightly saddened, some years ago, when it was announced that the Eurostar would no longer be leaving from Waterloo, but would instead depart from a much-pimped out St Pancras; the little irony of the train to France leaving from a station named after Britain's greatest military victory over said country always tickled me, somewhat.

Nevertheless, the renovation has been spectacular, producing a first-class international station.  But, for me, the greatest achievement has been the conversion of the former railway offices into the (rather unimaginatively named) St. Pancras Renaissance London Hotel.  Formerly the Midland Grand Hotel, before its sixty-plus year stint as offices, this has got to be one of the most beautiful buildings in London.

It's also the home of Marcus Wareing's latest venture, The Gilbert Scott.  In search of a suitable birthday venue, GrubsterGirl and I headed down for a spot of brunch.

Proceedings were kicked off with a round of Bloody Maria's: all the usual Bloody Mary ingredients (an essential for brunch, I feel) with the innovative substitution of vodka for tequila, and lime taking the place of lemon.  Very tasty, and a guaranteed eye-opener.  Lots of people have an aversion to tequila, doubtless obtained through countless nightclub slammer experiences, which I think is often unfair.  Here, the addition of tequila really works – which is hardly surprising when you think that Mexican's often chase the stuff with sangrita: a medley of tomato, orange, lime and green chilli. 

A nice little pickled chilli adorned the glass, which was a bonus: the addition of an undertone of vinegar actually improved rather than detracted (as one might expect) from the experience.

Rather unimaginatively, we followed our drinks with eggs benedict, that finest of brunch grubs.  Rather disappointingly for the blog, we both had exactly the same – so sorry, this review at least is rather limited. 

But these were no ordinary eggs benedict.  No, these were crab eggs benedict.  Now, I'm a complete sucker for crab, so the die was kinda cast the moment I saw them on the menu – I couldn’t help myself.  But I did have reservations: crab is a delicate flavour, in many respects, and one that could be easily lost piled underneath rich hollandaise sauce.  Marcus (or his little sous chef) has clearly anticipated this, and supplied enough crab meat to keep one going (and tasting) all day. 

 

It was very good, no doubt about it.  Nice hollandaise, perfectly cooked egg, lots of rich, tasty white crab meat, warmed plates, the works.  Very nicely done.

But on the expensive side.  Pre-tip, and including a coffee each as well, out brekkie came out at £55.69.  Not too bad, given what we were eating, but not one to do every weekend.

 - GrubsterBoy -