Stock photo. It wasn't *this* empty. |
Sunday morning Ed and I had hoped to take my brother to a restaurant we love called the Tipsy Parson for breakfast, but there were no open tables. So within several minutes of strolling we happened upon a great French restaurant just down the block. We'd never heard of it, but in no time we were being served plates of poached eggs perched atop piles of ratatouille and potato pancakes. In many other cities this restaurant would probably be one of the best in town, but in New York great places like this are so common that I didn't even make note of its name.
We met our friends Mary and Rasool for drinks and dinner on Sunday night. The first stop was a bar called the Pegu Club that has been on my to-do list for several years. Backstory: When Ed and I went to Berlin a few years ago, we arrived too early at a restaurant where we were supposed to meet Anthony and Jane and so went to the cocktail bar next door to wait. The bartender made great drinks and spoke good English. We started talking about craft cocktails and he told us that his favorite place in New York was the Pegu Club. I wish I'd taken him at his word before this because he was right; it was great. The bar is named for a British officers' club that used to exist in Pegu, Burma. The space felt at once refined and tropical. We sat in chairs upholstered in pale green velvet next to a wall covered with green and gold wallpaper with a leaf motif. I ordered from the colada menu and immediately felt terrible about it because my drink took the poor bartender almost ten minutes to prepare. (When I apologized, he shrugged and said only, "It's really good.") Most of that time was devoted to shaking and shaking and shaking the drink until a layer of frost formed on the outside of the metal. Then the concoction was poured into a glass to sit for a while between occasional thumps from the bartenter. A layer of foam eventually floated to the top. He removed a straw-full of the drink, tasted it, then poured a bit of sparkling water into the hole in the foam and finished it off with a few dropperfuls of liquid cardamom. Needless to say, it was absolutely wonderful. As if the atmosphere weren't appealing enough, a jazz band had started to play silkily in the background while we sipped. I was sorry to leave.
Another stock photo. This place was hoppin' when we left. |
Boulder has some great restaurants, but it's a fairly safe bet that places like Jungsik, the Pegu Club, and Miss Lily's won't be there. Of course, few cities can boast this kind of restaurant scene. Ed and I had better prepare to return from our visits to New York several pounds heavier.
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