A tower of cocktail power (photo by shaderlab)

Their movements were balletic.  Like robotic apothecaries, they created elixirs in a dizzying progression of steps.

They spun on their heels with perfect calibration, knowing exactly the degree of rotation needed to land on their spirit of choice, and spin back while the bottle was upended and measured into a jigger angled over the mixing glass.

The area behind the bar—their stage for the night—was tiny.  A four-person trapeze act performing in your living room.

Would you like that shaken or stirred?

Jedi Knights, each sensing the others’ movements, and the bottles and delicate glasses wizzing by each other in a blur, barely passing by millimeters and avoiding a spectacular explosion of glassware (which happened later in the evening, but more on that later).  Welcome to Angel’s Share, a speakeasy located in the East Village of Manhattan.

I’ve been there many times over the last few years, yet each time I wander a few steps past the entrance, confused how to gain access to its second floor perch overlooking the world below through a massive picture window.

If you’re looking for a romantic date, then sitting in front of this window, watching the snow fall with the warm sensation of booze caressing your soul, may just be the most memorable NY nightlife experience you can have.

A trip up the stairs to the Japanese restaurant, a quick turn to the left and a short walk to a non-descript door leads you to the unmarked entrance.  The room is quiet, and only those who have a seat may remain—this is not the place to cram the bar four-deep and shout at a Jets game blaring on four TV’s simultaneously.

I sat at the bar, a child in front of the lion’s cage at the zoo, my eyes straining to keep up with the action.  The back wall— lit from behind like a massive, adult-sized version of Lite-Brite—is stacked full of artisan spirits, liqueurs and small glass bottles seemingly stolen from a high-class perfumery in Paris.  The place is pure eye candy for any spirits geek; you could spend hours going through the collection.

The Del Sasser: smoky bacony, bourbon goodness

As I was finishing my Del Sasser (Bacon-infused Bourbon, Plum Liqueur, Pommegranate, Lime Juice, Balsamic Honey and Angustora Bitters), we heard a loud pop of exploding glass.  I half-expected to see the girl at the end of the bar—three seats to my right—brandishing a jagged shard of glass to her boyfriend’s neck.

But sadly, no; they both stared at a lone, glass base sitting in the center of the bar, surrounded by a field of broken shards.  They were dumbfounded.  My first thought was that the glass must have been hot, and that the coolness of the drink had caused it to explode.  But this was not the case; the guy had just taken the last sip of the drink, turned to look at his girl, and POW!  Total destruction.  A jealous glass, perhaps?  ”Keep your eyes on me, Jacko, not the broad!”

The crew descended in rehearsed, laser-like precision to clean up the refuse.  While we sat astounded, they showed no emotion.  They must have experience dealing with volatile glassware.  Monopolizing pint glasses, cuvetous high-balls, possessive rocks glasses and the like.  Libatious theatre at it’s best.

For more info on other NYC speakeasies, click HERE (and don’t even think they have websites, Johnny, they’re speakeasies, for God’s sake!)

The lions in their tiny cage (pic courtesy of Guest of a Guest)

“So, I know this underground Sake bar nearby…wanna go?”

“Hmm…I never really got into the stuff.  The process is interesting but the taste is pretty rough,” I said.  ”But an underground Sake bar, you say?”

My fearless guide was my friend, Taylor, an actor turned doctor who somehow manages to know more cool restaurants and bars than I do.  Somewhere between suturing stab wounds and pulling 90 hour weeks, he manages to slip in a Bo Ssam at Momofuku or a specialty cocktail at Angel’s Share.  Maybe he’s just been lying to me about the whole doctor thing?  (Oh, nope, that story about inserting a catheter was way too vivid to be a fib).  So bring it, Dr T.

Photo: Malcolm Brown (nycgo.com)

We made our way to 9th street in the East Village, where a wooden, non-descript archway stood over a staircase leading below the street to Decibel.  Was I being led into Jack the Rippers lair?  Was this some strange sex club from Eyes Wide Shut?  What that basement held, I really had no idea.  We opened the door and entered a new world (you gotta love that about NYC; you never know what world lies behind a closed door).

In a moment, we were transported to Tokyo or Kyoto.  The sounds of Japanese filled the air, as did the smells of noodles and pork.  A quick glance revealed a cramped space, with one row of about six seats running the length of a small bar with paper lamps and sagging ropes hanging above.  Behind the bar was a chef with a tiny kitchen…Barbie’s Noodle Station, was it?  And a wall of Sake bottles that dominated the landscape.

Photo: Malcolm Brown (nycgo.com)

We were led past the cramped bar into a second room that was about twice the size and packed to the gills with passionate imbibers.  It had a low ceiling and graffiti-covered walls made up of mostly Japanese characters, random drawings and Sake labels that had been affixed to the walls with concealed glue guns.  We saddled up to the bar where for the next hour, a drunken couple bumped into me repeatedly in a fit of passionate face-sucking.  My Sake lesson was about to begin.

There are two main kinds of Sake:  those made purely from rice, Junmai, and those with brewer’s alcohol added to extract more flavors from the mash, Honjozo.  Within the Junmai realm, there are three levels of designation (Junmai, Ginjo and Daiginjo) which refer to how much the rice is polished down to remove the proteins and oils from the grains, leaving behind the starches.  The more polished, the higher quality the Sake.

With the help of koji, the mold used to convert the starch into fermentable sugars, it is fermented and then passed through a mesh to yield a clear liquid.  For a more thorough breakdown on the process, check out this great site on sake making.

We would embark on two Junmai’s:  Harushika Junmai and the Mu DaiGinjo.

Harushika Junmai

Notes of blueberry and malt on the nose.  Almost smells like an Austrian Gruner Veltliner.  Hint of butterscotch on the palate with an oily mouthfeel and a taste of artificial banana exactly like in a bag of Runts candy.

Mu Daiginjo

Non-aromatic and hard to pull anything off the nose, except for a slight hint of apple cider vinegar.  More delicate and focused in its flavors with an almost sweat-like scent and an oxidized, Sherry flavor.  Hard to pinpoint exactly, but definite notes of Honeydew melon and a rounder mouthfeel than the Junmai.

Now, I can’t say I’m gonna run for President of the Sake of the Month Club, but I can say I’ve got new respect for the beverage.  The diversity of flavor and the rituals of serving of it are completely unique.  And if you’re ever in the East Village looking for a bar that will transport you far from the confines of Gotham, you gotta check out Decibel.

Just make sure the person you go with doesn’t go into details about feet boils and bed sores while you’re sipping your Ginjo…

Sipping on authentic, handcrafted libations is the same as sinking your teeth into a beautiful piece of sushi, or pulling the meat off the bone of a slow-cooked rib.  But drinks alone do not make a bar. In today’s cocktail world, you’ll often find  unassuming entrances, dark lighting, an elaborate bar composed of quality ingredients, bartenders with sharp, near balletic, movements, and a devoted following….

Behind the idea of a modern day “speakeasy” lies the desire to capture the essence of an era, an era that birthed illicit, underground clubs that operated by their own rules, and generated loyal fanatics in the process.  And today, these establishments and their mixtures fascinate us. Like jazz, many consider the cocktail an American creation.

Names like Gary Regan, Dale DeGroff, Julie Reiner, Jim Meehan and Audrey Saunders flood the scene.  These mixologist/chemist/showmen are well-trained in the old standards like Fizzes, Flips, Slings, Punches, Sours, Cobblers, Shrubs, Toddies, etc, and that grounds them in a rich past, but they have built on the basics and have built towers…and often in tiny, hard-to-find spaces behind concealed storefronts and sketchy doorways.  And these destinations are well worth the journey.  The following is a list of eight, great NYC cocktail shrines and modern speakeasies:

THE LIST

(click on each header for more info)

1.  PDT (PLEASE DON’T TELL)
113 St. Marks Pl, New York, NY
212-614-0386

2.  MILK & HONEY
134 Eldridge St., New York, NY
(secret phone number)

3.  DEATH & CO
433 E. 6th St., New York, NY
212-388-0882
Cocktail list

4.  CLOVER CLUB
210 Smith St, Brooklyn, NY
(718) 855-7939
Cocktail list

5. FLATIRON LOUNGE

37 W. 19th St., New York, NY 10011

212-727-7741      Cocktail list

6.  ANGEL’S SHARE
8 Stuyvesant St. at 9th St, 2nd fl, New York, NY
212-777-5415

7.  PEGU CLUB
77 W Houston St, New York, NY
(212) 473-7348

8.  LITTLE BRANCH
20 Seventh Ave. South, New York, NY
212-929-4360

***A cool site to read more:  The Lush Life, Guide to Manhattan’s Best Cocktail Bars