The Experimental Cocktail Club
Between dumpling dives on Gerrard st
I am sometimes wary of the choices made by this particular
friend. The week before had comprised of an outing to The Nordic Bar, where
after spinning what will now forever be known as the "shot wheel of
misery" I managed to drop call friend number 2's boyfriend to rant at him
(for a reason now lost on me) before finding said friend slumped on the ground
in the loos.
On this particular night friend number 2 and I were
taking our steps towards Gerrard St gingerly, and with fully lined
stomachs.
We needn't have worried. The ECC is a London extension
of the original Parisian cocktail club of the same title that hides behind
another worn out looking doorway right in the heart of Soho. The doorman (who
seems quite notorious after scanning some reviews), rudly claimed we couldn't
enter without a booking, even after Friend Number 1 pointed out that she did
last time. Just as we turned to walk away he called us back, gave us a look up
and down and let us in.
Excusing him the bar is beautiful, opulently dressed
without being garish with a strong nod towards the prohibition era in the
design of the bar. A very handsome barman served us cocktails that live up to
the name, with my second choice of the St-Germain-des-Prés (a mixture
of Hendrick's gin with elderflower liqueur, egg white, chilli, lime and
cucumber) being my recommended choice. If you are a braver soul than I and
choose the one with Budweiser and marshmallows I would love to hear about it.
At £11 a pop it isn't your Friday night local, but we
left with Friend Number Two fully conscious, which is always a plus.
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