The Franklin Mortgage and Investment Co. is a gem in the midst of Philadelphia's inspiringly snobby Rittenhouse Square. Set beneath (what used to be) a roaring night club, the dimly light, atmospherically-thick hallway of an establishment is framed with a bar (maybe 8 ft long) spanning the entirety of it's width. Tables are huddled together with long sofas and stools sporting deep maroon leather, studded for propriety's sake. The luxurious at-mos certainly lends itself to a slow, conscious swallow even in the excitement of exclusivity and authentic Daiquiris.
Under (and off) the 18th Street of Philadelphia is a wrinkle in the time/space fabric; a portal to a century ago. With nothing but a tiny banner waving almost half a block away, the Franklin is almost unidentifiable. Like a sentinel of the 1930s, a politely sized foreign gentleman stood in the recessed platform, waiting our arrival. He ushered us down an immaculately clean stairwell to what seemed to be a wooden wall protecting a vaulted dining room. The seamlessly integrated door appeared only when the gentleman grasped the well-hidden handle and pulled forward.
As we walked through the hall, the color seemed to drain from the room. I stepped into a nineteenth century gangster flick - half expecting to see Steve Buscemi, the other half waiting for Boo Boo Hoff. The website shares a bit of interesting history. The Investment Company was positioned during the prohibition era as a front for one of the largest alcohol rings in the US. Um...that's awesome.
As we dove into the cocktails list, I found the combination of modern and traditional an inherent dichotomous theme of the drinks: Cognac cocktails accented with rosewater or a classic-styled daiquiri with an absinthe twist. Aside from their fanciful list of refreshments, crafting a classic went above and beyond: Mint Juleps served in the proper stem wear (or should I say, metal wear), Old Fashions with an orange twist and a single glacier of ice, Mojitos perfected with the correct mint-to-cocktail ratio (something which most bars either overindulge or under appreciate). A unique supplement to the cocktail list, not native to most bar menus, peaked my interest. The Flowering Bowl offers a new perspective on the idea of "punch" for us twenty-first centenarians. The modern concept of punch (say...sherbet mixed with grain alcohol) is far from the Franklin's delectable combination flavors offering an accessible, yet sophisticated drink. Case in point: our punch was born from Jamaican and Haitian rum, cacao, fresh lime and pineapple juice, house strawberry and basil syrup, aromatic and orange bitters...and yes, it was still wickedly fun to share with friends.
Once the door closes behind you, time comes to a slow and silent pause. Without windows or much light, it seems as if even as the world rushes by outside, you are blissfully unaware. It's a short libation vacation from the modern world in which one is easily lost.
ROAD TRIP: A Northerner's Exploration of the Dirty, Dirty!
Part Three: Asheville
Asheville was the final destination on our 2500 mi trip...
We arrived in town around 2:30pm-ish, in the pouring rain, with a GPS on the fritz, and a disturbed attitude about the potential creepiness of the accommodations we chose. Joel picked out - what seemed to be - a beautiful hillside cottage set back off the beaten trail complete with living room, bedroom, kitchenette - very luxurious...
As we crawled up and up, into the mysterious mountains, we started regretting the idea of steep...private...dark...lonely...
The hill tapered into only a slight incline as the sign for the Chalet we rented shined through the rain like a lighthouse on the stormy Atlantic (how poetic). Asheville Swiss Chalets is a collection of privately owned rentable stand-alone units set on the mountainous east side of downtown Asheville. Our assigned hut, the Geneva Chalet ,was adorable. It was the perfect size for two - clean, well-stocked, and generally a delight. Judy Glicken, (who I am assuming is) the owner, left us a lovely personalized note complete with a handful of cookies from her bakery.
Our fear of heights dissolved almost immediately after a brief tour of the digs.
We collected ourselves and set out for the first destination of two for the evening. Asheville Brewing Company is one of the many local breweries in Asheville. The main thing that set this place apart from the others was...THEY HAD A RANDALLIZER!! If you recall, I mentioned the Randalizer in a previous entry about Dogfish Head. Essentially it is a piece of equipment that allows the brewers to add another layer of flavor after brewing. The beer is pumped through fresh ingredients and into the customer's pint glass. Dogfish Head has made popular the art of Randallizing and I was pleased to see Asheville Brewing Co. was on board.
We ordered some finger foods and a flight of the beer on tap. The Escape Artist E.S.P., the Shiva I.P.A., the Scout Stout, and the Porter. I'm not personally crazy about Stouts/Porters - so I stuck to the hoppier, more bitter fair. The E.S.P. was probably my favorite, not real sweet, nice full body feel, pretty bitter, but a nice balance of light hops and malts. Shiva was a close second. But what was great about that particular evening was the bartender was Randallizing Shiva in fresh cinnonman and peach! Joel ordered one and made a few notes. They are as follows: "Great cinnamon overtones and added sweetness due to peaches. Cuts down on bitterness a tad. Really good speciality beer." So articulate...
The place itself was pretty neat too. They had a large outdoor theater for random showings of The Chronicles of Narnia and True Grit (it's a thematic series...) and the restaurant/bar was built right on the front of the brewery. It's all right there, together!
Dinner came to an end and we wondered up the block to a very local bar called the Thirsty Monk Pub. I would not recommend visiting their website (as it does not reflect the excellence of the establishment), BUT it is definitely a must-visit watering hole in Asheville. The place is two floors, the main level bar for primarily craft brews and the basement level bar for all Belgians. Because Belgian-style beers won this year's "Beer hipster's are obsessed with for a second," the dedicated Belgian bar is a fabulous idea to appeal to Ashevillians.
We ordered a local flight at the main level bar. It included some tasty brews including the Highland Tasgall Scottish Ale, the Blue Point Hoptical Illusion, and (my personal favorite) Nantahala's Appalachian Extra Pale Ale (APX).
The next day was our adventure at the Biltmore! The picturesque American palace boasted its own vineyard. Of course, wine from the Biltmore made perfect NC souvenirs and it wasn't half bad either!
The evening was spent at a very small, local brewery called Greenman Brewery, which sported the man-of-leaves as the logo. The brewery/bar/garage was tiny - accommodating maybe 20 people - and looked as if it had been an auto body shop at one point. The front door was essentially an oversize garage door that remained open. Straight back, behind the "bar," was the brewing quarters. Two big silos and some odds and ends around. The production was obviously very small. To the right, the bar - complete with life-sized statue of Yoda, Darth Vadar and Storm Trooper Lego-man Clocks, and a number of truism bumper stickers - stuck out of the make-shift metal wall in front of the production area.
We spent the night sipping on a Greenman flight (complete with IPA, ESB, Stout, and Porter - pretty standard fare), enjoying the week's soccer highlights on the TV above the bar, and relaxing under the interior heat lamps while the cool evening air blew in and out of the garage door. The brews may have been only marginal, but the atmosphere was hard to beat. Aside from the in-house brews, I enjoyed a Mojo Risin' by Bolder Brewery (in CO)...a slammin' double IPA - one to even rival 90-minute.
All in all, our trip to Asheville was a success. I will certainly return for a long weekend or lazy week of relaxing if only to stay once more at the Swiss Chalets.
ROAD TRIP: A Northerner's Exploration of the Dirty, Dirty!
Part Two: Apollo Beach and Athens
Apollo Beach Our second destination was Apollo Beach, Florida!
So...ok, it rained the 75% of the time we were there - and, yeah, we chilled in the immaculately clean mall for a while, but we had a BLAST. One of Joel's buddies lives in Apollo Beach - so he gave us an insiders tour. We drove around the city most of the afternoon Monday and spent time relaxing Monday night.
On Tuesday we ate lunch at an awesome Moe's-like (but way better...) mexican joint called Tijuana Flats. Our initial plan was to check out Grain Alcohol Alley...no wait, I meant Everclear Avenue...no no, Sloppy at Slushy Joe's...NO! I remember, Wet Willy's - where the Alcohol is Ever-clear (har har) and Ever-pouring! Instead, we went to a charming resort bar right on the Gulf called Little Harbor Tiki Bar, drank tropical-esque drinks (coronas, mojitos, and kickin' Gatorades!) and enjoyed the breeze off the water and the enormous pre-mesozoic bugs...
Even though Florida wasn't Always Sunny - the warmth, relaxation, and general fun-having was worth it.
Athens Athens, Georgia was an after thought in the traveling plans. Our cluster-fucky style of planning lent itself to neglecting the fact that Apollo Beach was 12 full hours away from Asheville. "No worries," my Charleston friend proclaimed, "you guys should just check out Athens on your way up!" So we made shotgun reservations in Athens, Georgia with very little knowledge of it's nature. Athens is a college town - home to University of Georgia and Uga (the bulldog mascot). We got there and, realizing it was the home to Terrapin Beer Co., dropped everything and hustled across town. We caught the final tour of the evening around 7 p.m., given by a hilarious 23-year-old Georgian brewery volunteer. This guy was all over the craft beer concept. He gave us the brewery's history, discussed the history of beer in Georgia, talked about the process of brewing, and delivered his general/inspiring love of Terrapin.
The actual brewery was an open warehouse (as usual) but with a colorful and trendy twist. They hosted live music, had a wonderful outdoor grove, and an arsenal of volunteers willing to chatter and inform about Terrapin. The beers of the day included Golden Ale, Rye Pale Ale, Rye Squared, Hopsecutioner, Hop Karma, Big Hoppy Monster, Sunray Wheat, Monks Revenge, and Tom Foolery (Side Project #14). The Rye Pale Ale is there Flagship beer (it won the American Pale Ale Gold Medal in 2002 at the Great American Beer Fest in Denver, CO) and it was truly excellent. Drinkable, flavorful, but not overwhelming - a simple delight. The Golden Ale was not as pleasing to my palate - granted, I am not a as partial to these light styles by craft brewers (it's usually not their bag). Monks Revenge was slamming - high octane, huge taste, beautiful color - but not something to drink during a lunch break. And naturally the Big Hop Monster is a great hop-head classic. After 7 or 8 samples and a handful of old labels (given to us by the lovely gift shop ladies), we were in great shape to head over to our next feat - The Royal Peasant Pub.
The Royal Peasant Pub is the local Athens soccer bar. Filled with British-ex pats and small town local soccer players, the atmosphere was bang-on! We ordered two beers and three entrees, and only paid about $35 bucks! A Great Divide DPA (Denver Pale Ale) and a (second installment of) Terrapin Rye accompanied our Peasant Food English Blue Crisps (hand-cut potato chips with a blue cheese dressing and bacon...ah!), Royal Lamb Vindaloo Curry, and classic Fish & Chips. No disrespect to Stoney's and Go Fish!, but these guys served the finest, flakiest, lightest, Fish & Chips I've ever had. The julienned fries and lemon/dill mayo were such incredible accomplices. The friendly on TV between Guana and England added another wonderfully British element to the experience. We got stuffed and were pleased as punch by the time we left.
In the morning, we made our way to a local diner (of sorts) called Mama's Boy. This 1980's style Low Country diner served drinks in jars (something I absolutely adore) and offered fried chicken for breakfast. Listening to Alphaville and enjoying a cup of Jittery Joe's coffee helped get my day started right! We enjoyed fried catfish with grits and black eyed peas and the buttermilk fried chicken with mashed taters and green beans along with complimentary biscuits, breakfast of champions. Our spontaneous trip to Athens ended up being a great addition and an integral part of our culinary tour of the South!
ROAD TRIP: A Northerner's Exploration of the Dirty, Dirty!
Projected Itinerary: Charleston, SC to Apollo Beach, FL to Asheville, NC Actual Itinerary: Georgetown, SC to Charleston, SC to Apollo Beach, FL to Athens, GA to Asheville, NC
Part One: Charleston Our trip to Charleston began quite slowly...3 and 1/2 hour delay between Baltimore and D.C. - we ended up in Georgetown over night Friday, and on our way to Charleston Saturday (already a night behind!).
One of my best girlfriends lives in Charleston (as you may recall from a previous entry...) and, to my surprise, she effectively helped me to re-evaluated my previous opinion on the place. Charleston happens to be very lovely and a ton a fun!
We got there on Saturday and headed straight out to the newest brewery in town. Westbrook Brewing Co. is located about 10 minutes outside Charleston in Mt. Pleasant (Go Green Knights!). It's brand spankin' new - and it smelled like it: refreshingly clean, new wood scented, immaculately undamaged bar. Pretty convivial tasting room - complete with handsome brewmaster, sorority-style barmaids, and a Neil Patrick-Harris look-a-like busboy. We waited patiently for the next tour to depart. The handsome brewmaster summoned the tourists to the a door leading from the tasting room into a sterile, warehouse-like brewery. His passion and knowledge about brewing was delightful and very informative. The tour was fun, interactive, and educational (can't ask for much more than that). This guy - Smith Mathews - has the potential to do some really great things with this place. He's seems to be a super-creative guy (being an adamant home-brewer before his endeavors as a master) explaining to the tour members the process of how he decides flavors combination and brewing inspiration! As I write, he's working on brewing a test batch of an ultra-spiced red Flemish ale! This is going to be spot to watch in the next couple of years.
As for their beers, definitely some good foundation ales - but technique is still being developed. The IPA is reminiscent of a sessioned-down 60-minute. A little lighter, not as bold, but super tasty and drinkable. The Oatmeal Stout on the other hand was a little too burnt, a little too bitter, and a little not oatmealy.....weird. But it seems to me these guys are just getting started on these quirkier styles - White Thai was pretty neat tasting and different with Coriander, Orange, and Cardamom. All-in-all, our experience at this new and upcoming brewery was excellent.
When we got back into town, Jes gave us the walking tour of Charleston proper. We parked down town and our first stop (primarily in search of the closest bathroom) was Baked - a quasi-famous bakery and coffee shop on East Bay street. We had a great shot of espresso, a marginal whoopie pie, and a DELECTABLE Sea Salt Brownie (officially called Sweet & Salty Brownie).
After our desert, we searched for dinner. Jestine's Kitchen, on the corner of Meeting and Wentworth Streets, found us well. The small, quaint atmosphere put me in the mood for the SOUTHAN COOKIN'! The joint seemed pretty popular as the method of seating was typical of a crowded Newark bar - one in, one out. The line wrapped around the corner while the dinner hour approached. We sat and within minutes, our table was populated food I'd only seen in a magazines (or watched movies about...): fried green tomatoes, hush puppies (REAL ONES), sweat tea, collard greens, vinegar garlic pepper sauce, grits! An excellent introduction to what was on the menu for the next week.
Dinner ended abruptly - as we planned our escape before the rain started up again - and on our way back to the car, we stopped in a great beer store. Called The Exchange, the store was chocked full of Terrapin, Mikkeller, New Belgium, and Fat Tire. My friend, who is commissioning a book on the history of brewing in Charleston, engaged the owner in a conversation about the history of his store. He told us stories of hidden tunnels, speakeasies, and where the first shot of the Civil War was shot. Pretty exciting stuff. We bought a few Ranger IPAs, 2 cans of G'Knight, 2 Fat Tires, a Full Sail IPA, a Big Worse bomber.
We did make it out to a local watering hole. Closed for Business had an incredible tap list. We enjoyed Terrapin's Big Hoppy Monster (Imperial Red Ale) and Big Vladdy Daddy (Russian Imperial Stout, aduh!) followed by a New Belgium Mighty Arrow (so effing good).
On Sunday we ate brunch (by suggestion of Anthony Bourdain and our hostess) at Hominy Grill. The huevos rancheros, though sending my stomach into an uproar, was wildly good. A successful brunch was followed by an equally successful (and historical!) trip to Fort Sum(p)t(n)er. And the day was closed with a slice and Dale's Pale Ale at Mellow Mushroom.
Charleston... A City That Isn't As Shitty As I Thought :)
Another successful weekend at Dogfish! I know, it’s been like a month since we did this...actually more, a month would have been two three days ago, but Dogfish did an awesome beer release in March that I had the GREAT pleasure of attending. “Wrath a Pecant,” a collaboration brew with Dogfish Head and the Beer Advocate bros, was released March 12, 2010. I had to go to this...so I made a weekend out of it!
Conveniently DFH is located about an hour and half south of my hometown AND (also incredibly convenient) my grandmother has a condo at Rehobeth Beach, the city housing the DFH brew pub. Two nights, three days of nothing BUT Dogfish Head.
Friday March 11, 2010
We started early...well I call it early but it was really around cocktail hour, I just knew this was going to be one of those marathon nights - what with the crowd I was with and the sheer fact that the plan was to spend the evening at DFH brew pub. But we did do a pre-game...Burton Baton was in hand and the buzz was solid.
After a few (not a couple...a FEW!) we strolled through deserted Rehobeth in the hazy 45 degree weather. Round one, DING, was a Johnny Cask - not something that is readily available. Johnny Cask is a blend of the 60-minute and 90-minute IPAs supplemented with a bunch of other shit (whole-leaf hops, maple syrup!) that you can read more about HERE. And this beer is really excellent. It’s nice because casked IPAs (and beers in general) open up in a pint glass on a different level then the highly carbonated IPAs from the keg. Every taste becomes so apparent. The extra hops, the sweet highlights against a bitter background, they all become delightfully attention hungry.
Round two DING Life and Limb - another collaboration beer, DFH and Sierra Nevada, which you may recall, caused quite a stir in the craft beer community late last year. It released as a VERY limited edition beer with only something like 4500 cases released in DE in the beginning. People were buying and selling them at a 50 percent markup. My own little anecdote: when all this was happening, my buddy (one of the trifecta of my beer friends) got his hand on two bottles. I begged and begged to buy it from him...thirty bucks? forty? Wouldn’t sell. Well Dec. 25th passes and the next shift we worked together he handed me a box...with a bottle....wrapped in xmas paper....I couldn’t believe it!! I still haven’t drank it yet.
Some food was involved - DUH! An order of ribs...the day’s special, roast beef sandwiches, onion rings. I love Dogfish Head, I love their brew pub, and honestly NOTHING WOULD EVER keep me from going there, BUT! the food isn’t awesome for being such an awesome place. Not sure what I would recommend and maybe it’s just because I high expectations...
What did everyone else order? Well a RANDALLIZED Aprihop passed through our table. What’s RANDALLIZED, you ask? Or maybe you know...in that case READ ABOUT IT AGAIN.
RANDALL the Enamel Animal is an “organoleptic hop transducer module.” A big ass filter stuffed with hops that pipes beer in from the keg and out into YOUR glass.
Final Round DING ....HEAVEN AND HELL! Jesus...the name is totally indicative of the EXPERIENCE of this black and tan, and it IS an experience. First it’s heaven, blissful, delicious. Then you realize it’s 18 + percent and you just strap yourself in for the ride.
Heaven and Hell is World Wide Stout and 120-Minute done in a black and tan style. Comes in a 6oz snifter and two definitely KO’d all four of us, DING.
Saturday March 12, 2010
The adventure continues...
Today was the BIG day, the RELEASE. The release NOT ONLY of Wrath of Pecant but also of the Liquor De Malt, as the name suggests, a malt liquor. The first half of the day, we waited in line at the brew pub to get our ONE bottle we were allowed to buy and then spent another hour scheming on how we could get another. Not because any of us particularly LIKED malt liquor. Not because we wanted to bring some back with us to give to someone we knew who LIKED malt liquor. Simply because we’re four greedy bastards.
Right - so following our stint at the pub, we made our way across slower lower Delaware to the fair city of Milton! Our tour was at three, so we spent some time perusing the newly outfitted store housed under what would otherwise be the brewery. My favorite product (besides their most obvious item), was a rubbery DFH cover for a Macbook. The place was completely different from how I left it three years ago... No longer did the audience enter through the top almost directly into the brewing chamber, but instead, like I suggested, we entered into the large DFH retail store. The tour was literally a two room tour as the flight-attendant stunt double pointed to the silos, brewing vessels, and four of the specialty barrels. Hate to be so snobby, BUT my private tour with the OLD brew master was MUCH superior (not as cute, but...).
Anyway, the day continued with a 20-bottle purchase (collectively) of the Wrath of Pecant and a retreat back to the apartment for a rather quiet evening. The trip concluded with a four hour game of Talisman, the conclusion of one of our eight bottles of the Liquor De Malt, and a general attitude of pleasure (except when I kicked everyone’s ass - specifically that feather boot-wearing Warrior - as the Elf).
A few weeks ago I moved a very good friend of mine to Charleston, South Carolina. I stayed a few days, until she settled in, giving myself some time to explore while she worked, whined, complained, and generally adjusted to her new city.
A pale pastel feeling poured over me as a cruised through Charleston in the mid-afternoon, a feeling that only a southern city could provide for my stone-cold yankee heart. Even with its pastel facade, it was a city full of history, deep memories of heavy stone and brick.
But the dynamic of the city is lacking an insatiable substance - like only the shell of a Faberge egg. Who are the locals? Where do the citizens, the native community of Charleston, exist?
It seems like these Charlestonians left, or are being pushed aside, in favor of a national (seemingly northern) dynamic. The “substance” of this eloquently southern city is washing away, leaving something in Charleston to be desired...
The restaurant at which we dined seemed to capture this image (my mind’s image) of Charleston.
The quaint little Mediterranean cafe-ish (what I would call more of a trattoria) establishment, Sermet’s Corner (an unfortunate name), caught our attention as we hungrily paced King street in downtown Charleston. A prime location, on King street, just shy of “South of Broad,” the corner establishment seemed harmless, unassuming, and in the perfect location for our dining pleasure.
It was a large, single room space. A petite bar ran alongside the far left wall while the rest of the tables for dining (consisting of perhaps twenty four) filled the remainder of the room. We were sat by a very pleasant-looking exotic gentleman in the corner next to King street - the perfect people-watching location - against the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.
The interior was a lightwood accented with wrought iron ornamentation. Two pillars stood stoically in the middle of the dining room with carved iron wine bottle holders attached like necessary appendages. Our waitress was a cold type, probably pinning us as the northerners we were, and she thought she’d treat us as such (something of which I am certainly in favor). Lacking that slight twinge South Carolinians seem to have, she seemed like a northern transplant, anyway.
Without admitting it, the place was italo-centric. The traditional pasta dishes littering the entree listings, a fresh mozzarella and tomato pesto sandwich, and an extensive wine list gave them away. In line with the greatest of Italian restaurants, the draft list was questionable: three beers on tap, one of which had been kicked for the night by 8 p.m. No worry, the bottle list was actually decent. As I perused the bottle list, I recognized all but one. A brew called, Palmetto Amber. I inquired with our possibly yankish server to find it was a local Charleston brewery. Naturally, I ordered one.
It was a seductive amber color (oddly enough...) with a deliciously nutty, caramel scent and (something which I have found recently to be a serious issue in the craft brewery industry) not a bad looking bottle. Definitely a smooth, inoffensive quality of drinkability with a nutty, earthy feel. The draught finished with a slight, but acute citrus/fruity sting. Honestly, not much imagination to it, leaving something, certainly, to be desired.
We ordered from a truly verbose menu (with grammatical errors as my companion pointed out). But, none-the-less, mouth watering. An excerpt from the brunch menu: “Cinnamon-orange scented French toast with sweet ricotta and warm honey.” (wow)
We chatted lightly over a second drink, for me a regression to an old favorite, Sierra Nevada’s Pale Ale, and enjoyed the complimentary, dare I say, Italian bread with tomato infused olive oil while we waited for our dinner.
Dinner arrived in good time.
My pasta dish was swimming in an oily slime of a cream sauce which turned me off right away, not very delicate. Though a little sloppy, the sauce was quite good. Overall, however, I’d say this wasn’t their best performance. Sausage hunks floated around in the saucy ooze topped with frozen peas. Seemed as though the chef was in a hurry.
Honestly, the experience was tolerable (though the food not). The place was quaint and aesthetic pleasing. The company was good. But again, a gapping hole was left unfulfilled, unsatisfied, needing a second look at the city of Charleston.
Bellefonte, Delaware is the small suburb of Wilmington where I grew up.
About half a square mile, Bellefonte is a neighborhood of Wilmington most Delawareans would recognize if mentioned.
A blue- and white-collar town, my stomping grounds tends to be middle- to lower-middle class families.
Sounds so sterile when statics are included, but I wanted to give everyone an idea of the area. Brandywine Boulevard (Bellefonte’s major road) is littered with consignment stores, antique shops, and kids playing.
Most stores are converted homes. The Bellefonte Cafe is no different. Located on the corner of Brandywine Boulevard and Marion Avenue, my local cafe is certainly an institution among Bellefontians (or Bellefontites?).
I wrote a features story about the Cafe and its proprietor! CLICK HERE.
As we dove into the cocktails list, I found the combination of modern and traditional an inherent dichotomous theme of the drinks: Cognac cocktails accented with rosewater or a classic-styled daiquiri with an absinthe twist. Aside from their fanciful list of refreshments, crafting a classic went above and beyond: Mint Juleps served in the proper stem wear (or should I say, metal wear), Old Fashions with an orange twist and a single glacier of ice, Mojitos perfected with the correct mint-to-cocktail ratio (something which most bars either overindulge or under appreciate). A unique supplement to the cocktail list, not native to most bar menus, peaked my interest. The Flowering Bowl offers a new perspective on the idea of "punch" for us twenty-first centenarians. The modern concept of punch (say...sherbet mixed with grain alcohol) is far from the Franklin's delectable combination flavors offering an accessible, yet sophisticated drink. Case in point: our punch was born from Jamaican and Haitian rum, cacao, fresh lime and pineapple juice, house strawberry and basil syrup, aromatic and orange bitters...and yes, it was still wickedly fun to share with friends.
