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So Toby,
It's no surprise that I've got a bit of a man-crush on you bud. I discovered VH for myself one night last January and have since haunted it, bringing the friends, flings (more than a dozen), two priests, and even the neighbors. As a young 20something, your place allows range: it's a place I take mentors and quirky people or White Ladies I'd actually care to have a Conversation with before we're doing the Triple Kiss or are Between-the-Sheets with my Monkey Gland. Sorry, couldn't help it. Unfortunately, though, it doesn't work at all for bros or girls who I'd rather look at than listen to. Oh well.
With all that said, and hopefully without sounding too seedy, I hold quite a reliable record for closing after taking a girl to your place for a first date. And for that I humbly thank you.
As much as I love the date-place efficacy though, it makes me almost sad that it's not just a place you can hang out alone reading. After all, I'm starting to find myself picking up women just to have the excuse to visit, which is almost troubling when I'd rather be feeling Fitzgerald or Faulkner. By candles or a fire. There's a certain appropriateness there: "This Side of Paradise", "The Beautiful and Damned", "The Sound and the Fury", "Sanctuary", and "As I Lay Dying" (~>The Last Word) all sound like excellent cocktail titles from two inveterate drinkers. There should be some place, somewhere to engage at once with both the livelihoods and past-times of these men of letters.
If not at VH, I would heartily suggest, nay beg you, to attempt to ply Steve Lombardo with your wares and get him to set your stylings up at RL (far more comfortable setting than Gibson's/Hugo's/LuxBar). Seriously, we could use a place like that. Dark, comfortable corners.
While I'm still on this love-fest, I'm almost ashamed nobody has asked you for "Hush and Wonder", "Iron Cross", "la Paloma", or the poetically brief "Golden Age". Come on people! and I feel it would only be proper for you to improve/-of a Brandy Alexander for your proprietor. But, I do have one semi-serious criticism, and that's the absence of something which had been present: the brioche "elvis" was so f*ing good! and now it's just peanut-jello and bacon bits! WTF!? Dude, not cool. I used to share that stuff with everybody, strangers included, because though dietarily-imposing, it was so. f*ing. good. and won everybody over. The first version of the deviled eggs was also the best. Hey - I couldn't *just* blow steaming congratulatory smoke up your a$$... but oops, you may not have had anything to do with this.
Anyways, I owe you for inspiring fresh egg nog and other libations over the holidays, and I would love to get your feedback on some rude cocktails of my own, including an attempt at a prosciutto e meloni pousse and an improved mimosa with hyacinth. I could continue to pester you with self-assertions by Ginza bartenders and clam-bake pipe-dreams, but I'll save all that for later. For now, you are the man. And again, I humbly thank you for spoiling me with your trade.
Last edited by arbitry on Thu Jan 08, 2009 5:22 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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