Beijing Boyce

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An Australian friend said yesterday’s post was “a little wide of mark for the Aussie sense of humor” while a reader advised me “don’t quit your day job.” Hey, don’t blame me, guys. I didn’t invent the dingo.

Anyway, for those who think it is easy to come up with Aussie slang, here is your chance. I’m giving away a bottle of Wolf Blass “Gold Label” Cabernet Sauvignon from Australia and a pair of Bordeaux-style Riedel glasses from, um, Austria (close enough). That’s a pretty nice wine and some pretty nice glasses into which to pour it. It also comes in a gift pack in case you want to give it away. (All these items came from ASC Fine Wines and are available at its new Wine Gallery.)

To win them, come up with some Aussie slang and stick it in the comments section—even better if you give it a Beijing angle. You can enter up to five times. All legitimate entries will go into a random draw for the wine and glasses. The entry deadline is next Wednesday at noon.

Get to it, you My entries are in the comments section (no, I can’t win, but I can still play)….

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8 Songs and I stopped for drinks at Westside (The Prosper Center) and Speyside (The Office Park) on a recent evening and ended up taking, well, sides…

Westside

If you are like me and a waiter gives you a happy hour menu and a regular menu and the prices on both seem to be the same, you scratch your head, recheck the numbers several times, and wonder if you missed something. If you are like me and in Westside, you have a conversation like this with the waiter.

Me: Excuse me but the prices on these menus are the same. What’s the difference with the “happy hour”?

Waiter: The drinks are two for one.

You: [Looking at the menu for some indication of that special and finding none.] How are we supposed to know?

Waiter: Because, I am telling you right now.

You: Why, you cheeky little…! Oh.

Westside draws a suited crowd and reminds me of some colonial bar where the lights are kept fairly low, reminders of home are strewn on the walls (photos of Big Ben and cricket bats), wheeling and dealing is done at a murmur, and occasionally a patron gets handed a bamboo tube that conceals marching orders.

Speaking of wheeling, I felt like that would be the only means to remove me. While 8 Songs got fancy and knocked back Guigal from the wine preservation machine at RMB98 per glass, I order a pair of Manhattans that turned out to be generously portioned and potent (RMB52 during happy hour, 5 to 7 PM). Call ‘em Elephant Gun Drinks. If the Moscow Mules are near as strong, expect to leave with a hoof print on your forehead.

Despite the initial confusion, this place offered good happy hour value and decent overall service…

Speyside

“Western” bars and restaurants in Beijing tend do better with hardware than software. Speyside is no exception. The place is nice enough with its high ceilings, three-sided bar, and table, booth and sofa seating but uncertainty arises when it comes to something as simple as olives.

I ordered a martini (RMB35) and we witnessed minor staff confusion behind the bar in the locating the equipment, a rather limp shake by the bartender, and then muttered debate as to the number of olives that should go in the glass. Should it be one or three? And should they be impaled on a wooden toothpick or a semi-transparent plastic blue sword? The result: a single olive on a blue blade.

I found my martini slightly too sweet (I should have stressed dry) and watery (too much time in the mixer), but such is life. The manager, who hails from Italy and who says he is a partner*, asked about our drinks. I described mine as “okay” and joked that the olive looked “lonely”. I no longer consider it wise to joke with an Italian managing a bar named after a Scottish region and located in a Chinese city.

He chastised the bartenders, told them to give me more olives, and held a service powwow–behind the bar and within listening distance–with some employees. I felt bad about making the comment.

Meanwhile, the bartenders faced crisis number two in regard to the olives. Should they pull the sword from my drink and add two olives to it, or take that lone olive off the sword and skewer it with the two still left on the toothpick from their first debate, or just give me a new set of three? The answer: a bartender took the toothpick with two olives and slid it into my drink beside the blue sword with one.

I haven’t seen that move before and the contrast of wood and plastic raised thoughts about the environmental impact of various garnish holders, the uses of the toothpick versus sword as weapons, and whether paired olive green with neon blue had been successfully paired by any fashion designer (I could think of none).

Look, I realize this is much ado about a lone martini but it did seem to symbolize a place struggling with its service. Take the wine ordered by 8 Songs: he found it too warm and in a glass that still smelled slightly soapy. Take our second drink: actually, we didn’t get one. Though the place had half a dozen employees and some of them, not to mention the manager, passed us several times, no one noticed our glasses were empty. I should add that we were the only customers.

On a positive note, the staff is pleasant enough, particularly the hostess who seated us, and the service problems could be greatly reduced with some basic training. Let’s hope the staff gets some, because they already have a good stock of olives.

* Apparently the manager/partner has since left for another restaurant. Not surprising given he asked us if we knew of any other opportunities in Beijing.