The ferry ride from Hoboken to New York lasted no longer than a blink of an eye. One has time to see an overview of the New York skyline: the Empire State Building, Chrysler Building and Freedom Tower (where the World Trade Centre used to stand) the most recognizable edifices. Each time I took this ferry, I loved it. I love being on water, and I love New York, and I love my friend Anishka (my most gracious host and long time soul sister).
She thought she looked orange in this picture?? I think she looks flawless and luminous.
The cab ride to our destination once in New York was a different story. We knew the address of where we were going, but the cab driver didn’t know where to stop. Why, you might ask? We had very special reservations that night at Bathtub Gin, a hugely popular speakeasy, its front entrance (by definition) altogether hidden from the public and plain view. I threw my imagination into the past, pretending I lived during Prohibition in America, out for a night of scandals, Big Band music and giggling with my girlfriends.
We walked a block or two and stopped, looking around with mouths agape. Thankfully, it wasn’t really Prohibition or we might never have found the joint. An enormous security guard wearing a black suit and an earpiece leaned out of the doorway to a bakery (or what I recall to be a bakery in my overly excited, flitting memory).
“Bathtub Gin?” he asked us in a soft voice.
“Yes!” we said in unison.
A girl inside the cute bakeshop verified our reservations, and we were cleared to enter the establishment. My skin prickled with excitement at the prospect of being able to live this out. Anyone who knows me will know I listen to nostalgia radio in the car, and my Songza is almost always on something from the 20′s or 30′s, and one of my favorite shows is Boardwalk Empire. I love the clothes, I love the way people talked, I love the music, I love the dancing and the gangsters and the bars – I love the romanticism of it all. My dad always says I should have been born a century earlier.
Then, it wasn’t a door that opened to let us into the dark room beyond, but an entire section of the wall. The wall, painted to be part of the bakeshop swung open, just like a secret bookcase. Inside, the boisterous music of Big Band filled my ears, laughter from the patrons floated through the bar, smiles passed between strangers easily.
We were just beginning to peruse the drink menu at the bar when our table was ready. As I looked at the prices, I swallowed hard. I had known this wasn’t going to be an inexpensive evening, but actually seeing $15 cocktails hurt a little, especially having been so used to the prices in India. I saw that highballs were minimally cheaper and mentioned to Anishka that I might just stick to that.
“Have the cocktail,” she said, eyes singeing through me.
“Really?”
“Cocktails are a science here, trust me.”
And without even a second hesitation, I took the plunge and ordered my first cocktail, the Storm Catcher. When it arrived, I could instantly see the care – the art and science – that went into crafting my beverage. A soft froth from the preparation sat flirtatiously atop the liquid. I took my first sip. Heaven. I’m the type of person who actually likes to taste her alcohol. I will never understand why someone would try to drown rum in a bunch of coke. Rather, I will get a double rum, short. This drink was like that: strong, potent alcohol, but intricate and delicate in its marriage. Each sip was a delight, each sip was delicious, each sip was worth that $15.
Anishka first sampled the Toronto, and I later tried the Dutch Gin Fix. We also sampled some olives and some pork belly sliders (that review coming later), and then the night devolved into a mini high-school reunion and dirty dancing at a bar in the Lower East Side.
When in doubt, friends, and when in New York, get the cocktail.
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A huge, ginormous thank you goes to my amazing friend Anishka for planning and hosting me on this evening (and the entire trip!). I will never forget the memories we made. Love you!
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