Death & Co.

Death & Co. is legendary amongst the speakeasy cocktail circles, or so I've heard. I've also heard that D&C was meant for a more reserved clientele, keeping the number of guests strictly to the number of seats (i.e. no standing spots). This is only half true. When Laura and I tried to go there for the last stop of our lovely evening together, we were almost denied entry because of the lack of seating. The person at the door said he would have to take our number and call if/when there was space. Fate smiled on us at that exact moment and two people came through the heavy stained wooden door, leaving us two seats at the bar.

Instead of a quiet, intimate affair, Laura and I were greeted with a loud, raucous crowd. Nonplussed, we took our seats and peered over the drink menu. I ended up choosing a whiskey sour-like number, The Faithful Scotsman, in honour of my company that night. Laura asked the bartender to throw something together for her (which was also tasty, made from the brambles after which it was named). However, despite the fascination I had with the mixologists' library of tinctures, I wasn't convinced of the virtues of the establishment. Perhaps I'm just one for a sparsely populated dive bar with a good local brew on tap.

CONSUMED: Death & Co.; 433 E 6th St, East Village (Manhattan)