I mean, it's true that if you're not a bartender some things you can't understand, but after a few years in the industry, even if we don't mix, we picked up a little something.
First of all, we understood that entering theArtesian bar inside the Langham Hotel just off Oxford Street in London, presupposes that you dress a certain way and have a bullion-colored card in your wallet. Nothing to say about the attentive service, with waitresses who smile and show kindness even if your English is not perfect, and very patiently explain to you the ingredients of the (excellent) tapas with which they accompany your aperitif.
It is the patrons who instill unease. From what world is the world, those who have a lot of money can afford things that others cannot, arrogating to themselves the right to look down on you, but drinking at the Artesian, part of the list of the 50 best bars in the world, I have also been there, who do not fall into that category: you drink well, the place is beautiful. Why is the drinking good? Because the bartenders are competent, too bad that 9 out of 10 of the consumers drink wine, while I preferred a delicious cocktail laughing at the fact that they would pay for that goblet of Italian red as a whole bottle costs here in our Belpaese, but that goes for anything imported.
Too bad about the congealed atmosphere and the costs, which in this case are, alas, justified, being in a 5-star hotel.
Can you imagine instead a place where people don't whisper, where live jazz music is played every night, where not only drinking is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but also witnessing the making of your own drink? Such a place exists, I assure you, and it is not that far away. At 129 City Road in London is Nightjar. I had already talked about 'feeling in a world within a world,' explaining about the experience at the Nottingham Forest in Milan, and here, albeit in a different way, that same experience is replicated.
The atmosphere is not due to the dimmed lights but to the feeling of being catapulted into a bar that could only exist in the 1920s, in a time when bartenders smiled kindly and patrons chatted serenely as if sipping a great cocktail made of home-made ingredients and untraceable spirits was the norm. Except this isn't the 1920s here, it's 2014.
If you want to read the cocktail list fine, but if you'd rather be amazed then be served Nightjar's famous playing cards, an entire deck on which you'll find printed photos of all the drinks, complete with name and ingredients. The bartenders at the counter know them all by heart and devote enviable, precise, but above all natural attention to preparing not only the contents but also the container (I don't say just 'glass' because different objects, even copper owls, are used for serving). Luca and Gabriele at the counter point out to us that their customers are the first to be pretentious, and this is a great incentive for them, as well as the fact that their owners believe in such an articulate and careful project. The Nightjar is a clear example of professionalism without labels, of clean and admirable work, of results sought and understood by those who really make a place great: bartenders who put themselves at the service of the customer with professionalism and humility.
