I appreciate the irony in my writing this post. The man who in my head is pretty much the antithesis of the small bar concept, Justin Hemmes, has created a marvelous small bar that I love.
Hidden inside the multi level Ivy, this exquisite room is an exceptional place to sit at the bar for a drink, entertained by the talents and wit of their man behind the stick. The three shelves behind him hold the cream of the alcoholic output from around the world. The cupboards hide shelved refrigeration containing a myriad of specialty glassware and at least three types of ice. The jacuzzi, the sunken lounge, the outside cigar deck, the croupier, the furs.
If a room can be a sexual beast this one is. It’s like Frank Sinatra, James Dean and Hugh Hefner asked E. Stewart Williams to design them a pleasure palace in George St.
The staff are supremely friendly and talented. The drinks are mixed lovingly with the best spirits. Admission is by membership or invitation only. This is a very different world.
Words don’t adequately describe the experience I had here last night. I can’t wait to go back.
Where is it? If you have to ask, you’re probably not invited.