Speaking Easy

Nighjar is difficult to find, especially if you show up before they open. Walk north from Old Street station about half a block and look for a large pair of wooden doors on the right-hand side of the street with the Nightjar logo (a blackbird) on a tiny little brass plaque. It's nestled in between a coffee shop and a sandwich shop. Don't bother knocking, they'll open the door once they're open for the evening. Don't tell them Vinnie sent you, either. They won't have any idea who he is, or why that would matter.

What they will have an idea about is cocktails. Big ones. Small ones. Strong ones. Fruity ones. Garnishes and dressings. Chocolate covered cherry tomatoes and candy floss and giant wedges of ice the size of your hand. I'm getting ahead of myself.

Nightjar is a time machine that transports you to Prohibition-era Chicago. Once past the doorman, you descend a narrow flight of stairs and hang a left through a dimly-lit doorway into a well-appointed cellar bar. There's a small stage, a piano, an art deco bar, and plenty of cozy seating for couples or groups. The wait staff are dressed in an approximation of period-appropriate garb, and the upholstery is sufficiently old-timey.

Nightjar has live music at least 3 nights a week, but we waited too long to book a table so the show (which usually starts at 8 PM and has a nominal cover charge of £5 or so) was sold out. I'd been here before with some work colleagues when the Fobo Jug Band was playing. The music really rounds out the feel of the place, filling in what few gaps are left by the decor and architecture.

Imagine if Everett McGill had had money. This is the type of place where he'd have drunk, and the Soggy Bottom Boys would headline.

It's not all about the atmosphere. They do pretty wonderful things in a cocktail glass. I tried the Toronto, which is a maple and bourbon concoction similar to an Old-Fashioned. It pushed all the right buttons. I'm a sucker for maple and I like a strong, sweet bourbon. It came garnished with a bit of candy floss (cotton candy), a cherry, and a chocolate drizzle. The garnish was a little odd, and I'm not sure it really added much to the drink besides a splash of color. The drink was heavenly.

Becca started and finished with the London Mule, one of Nighjar's signature drinks. It comes in a wooden tankard and will last you all night. It's a fruity mix with hints of ginger that delights with an elusive complexity. It didn't seem to muddle too much by the time she got down to the dregs, either.

I finished the evening with the Shrubbler, which was our only miss of the evening. It sounds a lot more fun than it is. It came garnished with berries and a chocolate-covered cherry tomato stuck to the inside of a hardened sugar bowl. While visually interesting, the garnish was impossible to sample. The drink itself was a little flat and bland. I don't recommend it, but I do recommend the bar itself - there are a whole slough of other drinks to try. We'll be doing so at least once before we go home. Maybe we'll even book far enough in advance to catch a show.