Real ales, rooms, good food. Read a road sign by a pub in UK. (I’m not certain about the last part of the sign.) The sign is actually true about the Randolph on Broome. (It was just misplaced on the other side of the Atlantic.) Even if you are one of those fine clocks that only need winding once a year this fine cocktail bar could do the winding for you. God, goddess, a holy roman emperor, three revolving tricking jacks, everyone needs to stop drumming and processing every so often. And finally a bar that has Chartreuse! (Am I truly the only one on the look for that green goodness, impossible!?!)
Located a couple of blocks (safe distance) from little Italy. You don’t have to worry about the solid shielded blocks of the slow moving hordes of the tourist set. Stop by Randolphs with a full belly and (I hope) heart. If not with company, converse with the bartenders with the longest beards my highest recommendation. They are both crafty in their cocktails and chats. You can learn that they know the telephone numbers of their favorite breweries by heart. And they are wise to the fact that Whiskey Hooligan is not a brand of scotch but a street in Ireland. That gin is better than vodka and that making good beer is an art.
If you are not feeling chatty you might pay the price of idleness by contemplating on your audacity to dream and the skills and endurance to attain your ends. Alternatively try the excellent contemporary American-New-Hipster-Brooklyn-Locally-Farmed-Daily-Sourced cuisine. I have one word for you – Quinoa. Wash your choice of fuel with a thoughtful cocktail for the same rules apply. And now you are ready to leave this island of delight and rejoin our clockwork city of gods. Propelled and inspired! For a complex device, indeed, is the cocktail that works in mysterious ways. Rock steady.
— Milen Vasilev
Author
