Providence Cocktail Bars

[Chris Amirault]

Just read this rave about Maggie Longo at Temple, the new restaurant in the refurbished Masonic Temple, from Gail Ciampa in the ProJo (click for article):

Longo is the manager of Temple. She is a well-known cocktail guru in Providence. She was muddling mojitos as one of John Elkhay’s managers at 10 Prime Steak and Sushi before most people knew what they were. Now she’s the mistress of Temple and has launched her own signature drink menu. Her favorites are the Urban Farmer, with Lebron Cachaca, a Brazilian spirit, ginger simple syrup, cucumbers and fresh lime juice, and the lyrical Red Head with Bed Head with Jim Beam, Licor 43, a Spanish liqueur, lemon juice and orange bitters. A variety of flavored bitters are just one of the Temple trademarks.

I've never had cocktails at 10, so I can't comment on her past skills, but I'm eager to check this place out given this single paragraph. Hell, most bartenders I know in Providence don't have any bitters, mich less "a variety." (Good thing they're flavored bitters; those unflavored bitters aren't very bitter.) And I've complained recently about the lack of tiki drinks at the "tiki bar" at Big Fish.

Has anyone been to Temple to tipple? What say ye?

[eje]

"Lebron Cachaca"?

Is that a new vanity Cachaca from the NBA star?

[KatieLoeb]

I'm guessing they mean LeBlon cachaca.

There are better ones out there, but I don't know what's available in Rhode Island. I'd be very curious to try some of those cocktail creations, though. They sound quite interesting and I love the names!

[Chris Amirault]

So my wife calls me and asks if I want to get a drink after work, and we decide to head over to Temple to check it out. We walk down the dimly lit black stairs to the bar, sit down, and thus begins a very bizarre experience.

The comfortable copper bar is just adequately appointed, particularly for one claiming to be cocktailian. I asked about the aforementioned bitters, and the bartender had to ask someone else to find out that they had Angostura, Peychaud's, and Stirrings blood orange. There were lots of vodkas, bourbons, and scotches on hand, of course, and single bottles of Cynar, Luxardo Maraschino, Fernet Branca, and a few other interesting things boded well. (Of course, in this town, Italian bottles behind the bar usually means you're prepared for the older guys, not that you're mixing interesting cocktails, but I digress.)

The cocktail menu is heavy on cute vodka and rum drinks, often with flavored versions or "Bacardi Silver" features, but a few old school stand-bys (Sidecar, Sazerac) and some inventions were also on the list. My wife decided to try a Caipirinha with the LeBlon cachaca, which turned out just ok. The LeBlon has a very round profile -- we asked for neat tastes and both noticed a ripe-banana flavor and feel -- that throws off the balance of the drink if you are heavy with the simple syrup or light on the lime. It was cold, due to the presence of ice in the drink itself. (More on temperature shortly.)

When I noticed that their Sazerac used Maker's Mark, I asked about available ryes. In response, I got sheer confusion. Of the four bartenders available, not a single one of them seemed to know the answer -- and two of the bartenders didn't know what rye was. It was a tremendously awkward moment, like an employee at Tiffany asking you what you meant by "platinum"; I even made a joke about being from "corporate" to check on their training in the hopes of lightening the mood and establishing something remotely like rapport. (Didn't work.)

Since Sazeracs were listed on their cocktail menu, and since I have a pretty well-developed relationship to the drink (click), I thought, what the hell. I didn't want something too sweet, however, so I asked the bartender to substitute the Wild Turkey 101 for the Maker's Mark. He went down to the end of the bar to make the drink, so when it arrived, I asked him what he had done. Muddled the Peychaud's in sugar, rinsed the glass, 2 oz of bourbon... all steps reported dutifully. He placed it in front of me.

I then had the most disappointing cocktail I've had in years. The bourbon had way, way too much sugar in it, and it also had way, way too little Peychaud's in it. As a result, it was cloyingly sweet. The lemon twist had just been plopped into the glass; there was no lemon oil atop this beverage. He may well have rinsed the glass, but I picked up nothing. And -- shockingly -- the drink was at room temperature. It wasn't chilled at all.

I truly hope that this was a very strange aberration, a start-up fluke, but I fear it wasn't. We watched other drinks prepared before our eyes, and in the half hour we were there we both felt that there was a general lack of regard for the craft. The lack of awareness about the ingredients present (and not present) and poor balance suggests inadequate training; the warm drink suggests inadequate care.

I write this with real sadness. There remains, as far as I can tell, no real place in Providence where we can pull up a stool or chair and get, consistently, a properly made cocktail. (Well, besides my house.) I'll admit that my disappointment is heightened by high expectations -- but everything above is stone-cold accurate. Too bad that Sazerac wasn't.

[Chris Amirault]

RI Monthly's 2007 best list is out. Most of the cocktail discussion relates to the bar scenes and not the beverages. There is a list of five "top-shelf mixed drinks," but they're a pretty tired list: Bloody Mary at Up River Cafe in Westerly, Martini at Capriccio, Margarita at Cuban Revolution ("This not-from-a-mix concoction..."), and Manhattan at Capital Grille ("a Manhattan's all about the bourbon, and the selection here shines").

Only the Mojito at XO, prepared by Ted Newcomer, sounds interesting, if gimmicky.

Also noticed in Providence Monthly that Michael Sears claims to be mixing at his Loie Fuller. We left there without ordering the one time we tried to dine, so I can't report.

[Chris Amirault]

Ever a glutton for punishment, stopped at Loie Fuller for a drink the other day (a middling Negroni made with wet ice). Discussions at the stick included my answering the question, "How do you pronounce this?" when the young woman behind the bar held up a bottle of Angostura bitters. I'm about to give up permanently here.