Mason & Taylor, 17th March

Mason & Taylor is a reasonably recent addition to the Redchurch Street area at the top of Brick Lane, which is becoming decidedly more upmarket lately and I’m a little confused as to what Mason & Taylor are trying to be. You enter upstairs into a bright room, which is mostly full with tables and chairs. Very little room for standing at the bar. One wall is pure glass. It feels like a trendy wine bar. Or a restaurant. Yet it isn’t either of these things. They do provide food (they are part of the small plates/tapas renaissance) and of course they also have wine. But the real raison d’etre of Mason & Taylor is craft beers, which is why my friend had chosen to go there to celebrate his birthday. Unfortunately I don’t drink beer at all, so I cannot comment personally on whether or not this is a decent place to go for craft beers. I would guess that it is, as this particular group of friends are all into their beer (even a couple of CAMRA members among them) and this was at least the third one of them to choose to come here for birthday celebrations. So they must be doing something right in this regard.

I can categorically state that it’s not so hot when it comes to wine. I hate to pay more than £5.00 for a normal sized glass of wine (175ml) which left me with two choices – one oaky (yuck) and one not (which also turned out to be not so great). And is it really that hard to make sure that the wine you serve is chilled instead of, at best, just below room temperature? It makes a big difference!

So yes, upstairs feels at odds with what Mason & Taylor is all about. It feels soulless. It’s like they’re trying to ‘posh up’ beer and I don’t hold with that at all.

However, there is a basement bar. And this is where we spent most of the evening. Being a basement, it’s dark and feels much more exciting and intimate. They have a DJ down there who was playing a pleasing mix of slightly retro music (Talking Heads, Hall & Oats, some 60s soul). And it’s large. This is the part of which you can hire out certain sections for things such as birthdays. There’s a lot of room for standing, or dancing, but also quite a few comfy seats for anyone who has reserved an area. This is where the party happens.

You can also order a selection of food for your guests if you so wish. This was good in the main, with a special thumbs up going to the mini toads in the holes they provided, and the sweet potato wedges. English rarebit was less successful – it had pickles, did that make it English? – definitely overcooked and dry as a bone as a result. Pate, potted crab, mackerel pate and quiche were all fairly good too. The basement bar stays open until 2 so you can easily while away the whole night in there. Or, if you’re silly like me, you can then easily head into Shoreditch, to Ye Olde Axe, for example, to continue your night.

In conclusion, I did not fall in love with Mason & Taylor. I suppose I’m not who they’re aiming for, though I’m a bit surprised that people who are seriously into their beers and ales are looking for a place with this sort of atmosphere. It feels more like a place for people who think it’s fashionable to be into their beers and ales (previously mentioned company excluded of course). I wouldn’t be surprised if I was back here before long though. It’s size is a real bonus which means it would make a great meeting place for a large group of you. And I’d like to come back to give the ‘proper’ food a try. 

The Nightjar, Roadtrip and The Russian bar, 21st December

My friend Alison was back in town, and if you have been reading this blog for a while you'll know that this means we were about to hit a few cocktail joints. The first two, Nightjar and Roadtrip, I'd heard of when I made a plea to Secret London to suggest some cocktail bars in Old Street when I was going out with colleagues. We didn't end up going to either but I liked the sound of them so they went on my list.

I then found myself almost going to Nightjar when Stephen and I were looking for somewhere to celebrate our anniversary (literally wandering into Shoreditch looking) and I remembered Nightjar. We sauntered over, it being around 7 pm and were told they had a full house. Reservations were clearly highly recommended. 

And so, I was sure to make them. I asked for a spot between 7 and 9 and was told they were very busy that night, would 6 to 8:30 suit instead? That was fine by us, we don't mind an early start drinking, even though Alison would have only got into the country 6 hours previously.

Close-up of the Cobbler

The Nightjar is another one of those speakeasy type places, and from the outside it really carries this off as you would never know there was a bar there if you didn't know already. There's just a door, with a small logo of the bar on it,in between two shops. You descend the stairs to find yourself in an intimate, yet spacious enough, dimly lit hideaway. There are lots of little tables lit by candlelight and we were seated near the piano. Unfortunately there was no live music while we were there, but they do often have live acts playing swing and the like. Instead we had background music which was on the 1940s side and perfectly suited our surroundings. There are about 4 double page spreads of cocktails, arranged by era (pre-Prohibition, Prohibition etc) and that is almost too much choice. They all sound fantastic. I started with a 24 Volt Cobbler, which turned out to be my favourite of the night featuring chocolate and maple syrup flavours and yet still managing not to be too sweet. They not only take the taste of their cocktails seriously, they also spend a fair amount of time on the presentation as well. I've never seen such gorgeous-looking drinks! They were like sculptures or flower arrangements. 

Volt cobbler and Islands in the Stream

Toreador and something else!

Airmail and Ladybird complete with slab of chocolate

My least favourite cocktail was the Toreador, because even thought it was nice, it did just remind me of a Margarita. I was back on form with my last drink though - the Airmail featuring orange blossom honey water and champagne, and Alison's last cocktail was a rival to my first, with prune and belgian truffle liquer offset by Caribbean spices. 

There were lots of unusual ingredients that I am excited to go back to try. Like ginger and raisin sake! Or griddled korean pear. The prices are a little above what you'd pay in a normal bar, but for this quality, it's worth it. The only downside is that some of the cocktails came with metal straws. It looks nice, and keeps the liquid cold as it travels the short distance from glass to mouth, but the straws were a bit too long for a short person like me, and metal is fairly resistant to being bent down. It also tastes of metal. 

They have food too, and we had planned on having some, but couldn't decide on what so asked for some bread with oil to start. The waitress, however, took the menu away after that so we couldn't be bothered to ask for it again. It was tapas-based, with quite a lot of seafood.

We were then on to the next venue - the Hoxton Pony for an old school hip hop night, but we thought we'd pop in to Roadtrip on the way for one. We were feeling a bit full from the cocktails so we just had wine. Roadtrip is a kind of diner themed place. The decor inside is pretty funky but it did feel a bit too much like a theme bar to me. Just before we left we went downstairs where some jazz was going on. No one was serving down there and everyone seemed genuinely into the music, which wasn't our scene so we beat a hasty departure.

And came to the Pony, which was kinda dead! The downstairs was shut and there was no sign of the hip hop/music video fliming that the website mentioned. So that was disappointing but we got chatting to some people and so we ended up staying. The Hoxton Pony is a very sleek place, very stylish, but I felt it was a little soulless. Perhaps this is just because it wasn't busy. I wasn't sad when it closed for the evening.

Our companions wanted to continue the night, and we never say no to staying out, so we went with them to Trafik, a bar I have never really liked and being there this night didn't change my mind. That shut after an hour and there was talk of going somewhere else! It was 3 am by this time. I was doubtful that anywhere would be open.

But that was because, even though I knew of the Russian bar - a late night venue on Kingsland Road, I didn't know that it was a late night venue every night. So we went! As soon as they said it was open, I wanted to go - can't let an opportunity to cross something off my list pass me by. I was also pretty drunk by this point, which may have been the overriding factor.

And which also means my description of the place is probably a little lacking. It was smaller than I imagined it would be. And reminded me of Ye Olde Axe - there was a little bar on the side, with the same carved wooden posts. But this place played housey dance music as opposed to rockabilly. The dance floor was small but absolutely packed! God knows who these reprobates out clubbing until 5 o'clock were, but there were a lot of them! 

I'd go here again if I ever happen to be at a loss for what to do on a weekday night at 3 in the morning again (unlikely but not impossible), but at weekends Ye Olde Axe might just have it for being closer to where I tend to end up. 

Cocktail crawl, Saturday 24th September

I met my friend Alison at her hotel room where we commenced the beginning of a two week period of festivities, celebrating that we will get copious amounts of talking done face to face (a rarity for us as she lives in the States). To get us in the mood I brought with me a bag of goodies: cheese straws, two toffee apple cupcakes from Hummingbird (the best place for cupcakes), a bottle of Prosecco and some peach puree for making bellinis. It lent the afternoon quite a decadent feel. We prettied ourselves up and finished off the last of the peach puree with some Patron tequila Alison happened to stuff her boots with. Not the best ‘cocktail’ in the world, but we’re nothing if not stoic when it comes to imbibing alcohol.

We were ready to embark on our cocktail crawl and headed across town to the first destination.

The Mayor of Scaredy Cat Town

This way to the Thrills

I’m now somewhat torn here because part of the appeal about going to this place is it has this one gimmick, which makes it feel like a properly hidden away illicit drinking den. I already knew what this gimmick was, and my friend didn’t. I did appreciate it, but I could see the sheer delight on her face when the trick up their sleeve was revealed and I wouldn’t want to rob anyone of that experience. So, let’s just say, the entrance isn’t what you think. Once you have been granted access, a neon sign kindly points you in the right direction for the ‘Thrills’. We got there at about 7:30, an hour later than planned and we had a choice of two seating areas – by the bar or at a little table. We took the bar option. Experience has taught us to be as close to the people serving you alcohol as possible, and also that bartenders are often hot, so why not sit where you can look at them more easily. We ordered the chilli and lemongrass margarita. It was elegantly served in the correct glasses, with a thin strip of lemongrass threaded through a slice of chilli as garnish. It was pleasantly warm and a perfectly drinkable drink. Time ticked away quickly and we realised we had to hot foot it to the next place if we wanted to keep to schedule. Just as we were finishing up, the barkeep was putting together another cocktail, when all of a sudden, the raspberry concoction was all over the bar, not in its glass where it should be. I managed to move my bag out the way and partially my body but the drink still managed to get my leg and part of my skirt. I went to the bathroom to clean it up while Alison settled the bill. I came back and asked if we’d been given any compensation but apart from a genuine apology, we didn’t manage to get any freebies out of it. That’s a black mark in my opinion.



The Whistling Shop

So, it was now 8:30. We had 9:00 reservations at Callooh Callay, but the original plan was to go to the Whistling Shop before that. We debated about whether we could really squeeze it in, and rather rashly, decided we could and we would. In all honesty, we couldn’t, but we did it anyway. We walked up to Worship Street, walking much further up and farther away from the populated area than I was expecting. We walked in and I instantly regretted having spent so long in Scaredy Cat Town and missing out on being able to make the most of this place. It was all dark wood and tea lights, and even though it didn’t have a hidden entrance, walking inside made you feel like you were entering some tucked away, little known place. We told the guy who greeted us that we were on a tight schedule and needed to get a drink as quickly as possible. They asked us why the rush and when we told them, agreed that we really shouldn’t miss out on those reservations and were fully behind getting us served and out again as quickly as possible. The cocktail list sounded amazing. They take a ‘scientific’ approach to cocktailing making, apparently experimenting with different flavour combinations in their laboratory. Many of the cocktails include ingredients like “WS2 exhaustion tonic”, which are mixtures of their own invention and require a glossary at the back of the menu to figure out what they are. We wanted to make as much of the choices available as we could, so we ordered different drinks to each other - House Gin Fizz and the Panacea.

House Gin Fizz: Tanqueray gin, lemon juice, extra virgin olive oil, vanilla salt, orange bitters, soda
Panacea: Compass Box whisky, honey and lavender shrub, lemon juice, sage dust.

Yes, sage dust.

Both were enjoyable to drink and had an interesting taste, with a creamy topping, but I think Alison and I preferred the Panacea, probably because it was so unlike any other drink we’d had before. The gin fizz was nice (and very quaffable once we realised we’d gone past our imposed 10 minute time limit) but it was just a gin fizz. Nothing as cool as sage dust in it. The cocktails backed up my instinctive reaction that we should have spent more time here. The downside is that the drinks are quite pricey, and the place was eerily empty. There was one other group in there, but otherwise the place was dead. I assume this is because it feels like it’s in the middle of nowhere, even though Shoreditch is only a few streets away.



Callooh Callay

We raced out of there and into the night again. In totally the wrong direction. We came out onto a street I had hoped was going to be either Bishopsgate or Great Eastern and was in fact Moorgate. My sense of direction is obliterated once I drink and Alison doesn’t know the area. A taxi came by and we made the executive decision to get in it. We told him the street name and the venue. It was 9:05. He hadn’t heard of Callooh Callay but he did know the street. Two minutes later, he pulled over, stopped the clock and confessed he couldn’t remember how to get there. 30 seconds later and he’d dredged his memory and we were on our way again.

Cassette tapes are used as wallpaper

We made it at about 9:15. We weren’t too drunk by this point and had been sensible enough to call when we knew we were going to be late and tell them we were lost but on our way. Got to the door and presented ourselves to the doorman. Our names weren’t on the list. I think you’ll agree that it was all going really well by this point. However, I wasn’t too worried. I had email confirmation of our reservations and they had called me the day before to confirm (always a nice touch and something that should happen more often in this country) and I’d spoken to someone who seemed to be expecting us just 10 minutes earlier on the phone. Soon enough, the manager came out and let us in. He also complimented me on my outfit, so it more than made up for the few minutes’ wait at the door. We were then led through the throng and indeed through the looking glass (or rather, fake wardrobe) to the Jub Jub bar at the back, only available for those with reservations.  We had many, many cocktails, and I really can’t remember what on earth they were. The menu also changes regularly so I can’t even look it up to remind myself. It had lots of nice, quirky touches, like the cocktail list being on a comic strip, and having reservations meant we were waited on at the table instead of going to the bar, which makes such a nice change when you’re out drinking. We had pre-ordered food, which arrived about 15 minutes after we did. We ate mini brie quiches, goat’s cheese bruschetta, lime, chilli and ginger crab spoons and some tarragon salted, buttery popcorn. All absolutely delicious, if a little underfilling. We thought about ordering some more food but in the end ordered more cocktails to fill us up instead. As we were sitting there, a waiter went by with a massive bowl flanked by what looked like four little gnomes. This, I think was the £55 cocktail you could order to share between 6 of you, which I think we also did see a group of maybe 5 boys finishing off when we arrived.

The original plan was to move on to yet another cocktail bar (Ninety Eight bar and lounge), but we were so comfortable there, the drinks were coming at a pleasing rate and were doing their job on our sobriety so we just stayed there instead until about 12:00.

But we couldn’t stay there all night – we had dancing on the agenda. So we walked round to The Book Club. I’ve already been here a couple of times, they have quite a varied programme of nights on. I’d been there for a hip hop mashup night hosted by Scroobius Pip and I went to Bookstock, the street party they hosted. So I thought their Rock n roll Saturday night would be worthwhile. Unfortunately, so did a lot of other people and when we got there, there was a not insubstantial queue. We considered our other options, especially as time was ticking on, it was £5 entrance fee and it only stayed open until 2. But that was the case with most of the other places I could think of so we waited it out, got in and made the most of the hour and a half we had in there. We befriended these three guys who were in the queue in front of us, and then turned up at the bar when we were, and we bebopped about a bit with them. All too quickly the lights were being turned up and we had to leave. I never had the slightest intention of going home so early and had scoured the internet to find somewhere to finish our night. I came across somewhere I’d never heard of but fit exactly the bill. Originally I had planned that we would go to The Bathhouse in Liverpool Street, only to find that they were closing two weeks before I planned to go. They play rock and roll/retro music and now I was in the mood for that kind of thing. The Book Club happened to do it, but as we’ve just covered, only stayed open until 2. I needed more. And I needed it to be within easy reach of Shoreditch so that we didn’t waste time and money getting there. It took me a while, but I finally unearthed Ye Olde Axe.



Ye Olde Axe

Apparently this place is a strip club. It’s just up the road from Brown’s so I can believe that. It also has a phenomenally large bouncer, which I consider evidence of stripping taking place. But when the clock strikes midnight, that element of it shuts down and it turns into a rockabilly venue. And it stays open until 6 am(ish). We headed up there, with a new addition to the party (one of the guys we’d met at The Book Club. I’d heard that this is where everyone heads when all the other venues have shut so I was a little worried we wouldn’t get in, or it would be too crowded to be enjoyable, but my fears were unwarranted. It’s an odd venue. A bit like the Horse & Groom, it’s clearly just a pub (I think I remember beams and banquettes), that happens to stay open late, plays great music and people dance. At least, I think they do. I would ask the honourable reader to remember that my companion and I had started drinking at about half four in the afternoon, and so by the time we reached Ye Olde Axe, my memory faculties weren’t firing on all cylinders. I know they were playing music I liked, from the 50s and 60s era, but the only song I can actually remember is ‘I Just Want to Make Love to You’, chiefly because Alison and I engaged in a bit of playful lesbian writhing. It’s understandable – that song is pure sex. My abiding memory is of thinking this place was great and knowing it was now going to become my official ‘go to’ place for the after hours in Shoreditch.

Once again we stayed until basically, we were made to go, and then we went our separate ways. The night had finished, over 12 hours after it had begun.

Sunday 25th September

As a footnote, I want to add that we spent the afternoon and evening of Sunday at The Book Club again. It doesn’t get its own entry because ‘if it’s not on the list, it’s not going in’ but it’s worth a mention. We discovered they do bloody lovely Sunday Roasts. And they’re bloody huge as well. My friend and I shared one and didn’t even finish it between us. They also do ‘DIY’ bloody marys so you can make them as spicy as you like. Apparently they play blues in the downstairs bit starting from about 7 but it was 9 pm before I remembered we had wanted to see what that was like, and we were pretty comfortable where we were. I’d highly recommend it.