Earlier in the week, I found myself at The East Side Bar Company. A whisper last winter had spoken of this narrow, dark place-- along with other sexy spots in Lower Manhattan.
It had been a long night. The rain relentlessly savage. I requested an Amaretto Sour. My company ordered the London Mule- a gin take on the classic Russian Mule. Divine, cool and calculated, these cocktails insist that you slowly sip them.
This evening, I set out with Vadim, to see the new Batman movie- only to find it had sold out. I suggested that we head over to the Brooklyn Museum for the Murakami exhibit (the museum offers free admission after 5:30).
Unfortunately, the museum had closed by the time we sauntered into reach. The 2/3 train station beckoned. I considered- Williamsburg? Upper West Side to see Carrie and Lindsay? Eventually, we decided to step off at Brooklyn heights and walk across the Brooklyn bridge.
The evening was uncertain, but shaping into something lovely. We edged through downtown and into TriBeCa. I offered, "I went to a place, I can't remember exactly where, let's try to find it." I didn't have much to work with. There is no light above the simple off-white door. There are no signs. It doesn't want to be found.
We cut through Little Italy, Chinatown, the warm scent of old fish. To Essex.
"This street is too busy, I think. Wait." I turned the corner. And pushed a loose door. Downstairs into a prohibition feel. We took a dark booth. I sipped on a Honeysuckle, (white rum, lime juice, honey) Vadim decided on the Bee's Knees (Gin, lemon juice, honey). Divine as the first time. A slight headache formed as a boisturous foursome plopped across from us. We moved on.