Beijing Boyce

Despite a questionable name and a dismal location in Cell Block 11 (3F) of Jianwai Soho, Opener? was a must-visit since the management includes a former owner of the now-chai’d First Cafe, my original favorite bar in Beijing. I popped in last Wednesday after dinner at Cafe Europa (1F). The concrete floor, exposed pipes and black twine curtains give this spacious 200-square-meter bar an industrial-gothic feel, completed by the ceiling light fixtures and candles. “You step in and immediately wonder, When does the piercing start?” said M-Dawg. An island bar is surrounded by lounge areas full of leather chairs and sofas, the latter sporting plenty of faux-fur cushions. Unhappy with Beijing’s new one-pet policy? Then snuggle up with two or three of these puppies. The music is a decent mix of jazz and pop, the view is good for a third-floor bar, and M-Dawg and Ping’s drinks were okay, while my Dry Vodka Martini with a twist (50 kuai) was presented in an especially attractive glass, but a bit harsh. Opener? is a nice spot to spend a few hours, though M-Dawg describes it as a “mental patient’s hallucination,” since you have to eventually return to reality - the stark, institutional hallways of Jianwai Soho.

(This story is from Beijing Boyce XXVII, first emailed to readers on November 23, 2006.)

In the former locale of Moscow and just up from Kai, Shooters is rising up the hit list of favorite cheap bars – with a bullet. The place may not win any design awards, but is a cut above the competition, with a kind of mini-Browns feel. It has a bar, dance floor and seating downstairs, with sofas upstairs. Eddie O described it as “rough around the edges, but good.” Those over 25 may experience chaperone-like symptoms.

The handy laminated menu lists about a hundred shooters at 10 kuai apiece as well as pricier shots, cocktails and beers. (Note: As with all cheap drinks, you take your chances in this town.) I tried the passable Duck’s Ass (Bailey’s, Kahlua and white rum) and Baby Ruth (vodka, amaretto and peanuts). The Big V (dark cacao, blue cacao, vodka) was surprisingly good and I had a second. Eddie O stuck to Qingdao. Given the prices, drinks, location and ambience, this place will be a winner.

The neon Che Guevara profile at the door suggests something revolutionary inside, but this place delivers the same mediocrity found elsewhere in Beijing . The place itself gives a good first impression, striking one as cozy and warm, as the sort of spot that could become your local pub with its standup bar, table seating and big screen. Unfortunately, some problems on the service side need to be overthrown. On my first visit, the staff seemed bothered that we even ordered food. Then again, perhaps it was a subtle warning, given that the tapas included a firm white substance that defined blandness and was apparently cheese. On my second visit, the Parma ham salad came with incredibly fatty meat, off-the-shelf olives, canned tuna, under-ripe tomatoes, and a 55-kuai price tag that would have been fairer with the first “5″ removed. The food, thus, needs some work. The drinks, however, are definitely worth a try. There are plenty of Cuban specialties and the efficient bartender whipped up a refreshing golden Mojito (Y35), made with orange juice and mint. Unfortunately, his helper stood nearby eating peanuts (mouth wide open), staring blankly at customers and seemingly unaware of the art of removing empty glasses. Then, oddly, A-Che offered me a VIP card. What would that get me? Another green tomato slice? The chance to toss whole lemons into the bar helper’s gaping keghole? It seems to me that this place should first learn to handle non-important people. Anyway, despite all these criticisms, I have hope for A-Che. Some staff training and a rethink of the menu would go a long way to turning that hope into reality. In the meantime, this place is still worth a visit to try some cocktails.

(From Beijing Boyce XXIV, first emailed on September 21, 2006)

I toiled beyond the borders of China during the heydays of Neo Lounge and Vogue, the venues that shot Henry Li to the top of the Beijing club-owner charts a few years ago. Even so, I am intrigued by the history of those two places, about which so many friends rave ecstatic. I had high expectations for Li’s new club, Rui Fu. I wanted to like this joint, to understand the buzz created by my friends. And since it is named after and based in the abode of an early twentieth-century Chinese leader, I envisioned a spacious place that welded the modern to the past, had layers of character and, given Li’s bar experience, served good drinks.

One thing is true: the club is spacious. The ceilings are lofty, the lounge areas sprawling, the 1000 square meters ample. But any homage to the past is absent. Rui Fu is a virtual reality. It evokes the spirits of the plush karaoke, generic hotel casino, and modernized opium den, places where losing track of time, forgetting the complexities of every day life, and finding indulgences are givens. The main floor is divided into two large narrow rooms joined by an opening. From the near side’s perspective, tables and chairs, then lounge areas, flow until they meet that opening, beyond which figures appear as silhouettes. A row of toffee-colored octopi-like “chandeliers” crowned with donut-shaped lights crawls spans the ceiling, framed by a strip of soft lights along the trim and a neon glow from the rafters. And a room-length curtain flows in front of what is mostly likely a wall, but could be a hiding spot for a Wizard of Oz type, calmly keeping the lights just dim enough, the house music just restrained enough, so that things stay on simmer. It all seems a bit unreal, as though pulling a lever might dissolve this scene. I’ll end my comments on ambience here, for my time at Rui Fu was short, my quota for being pretentious has been met, and a proper evaluation will require several return trips.

As for Rui Fu’s bar, it is L-shaped and seats about 15 people (fans of reddish velvet framed by white piping look will love the chairs). My only cocktail was, in theory, a vodka martini with a twist: the bartender inexplicably squeezed a lemon into the shaker with the alcohol rather than, as is proper, placing a strip of peel in the glass as a final touch. (*This* was the time for a lever that would make something, namely my drink, disappear.) It might be best to stick to wine, beer or spirits, which are reasonably priced (a serving of Johnnie Walker Black is Y35).

Rui Fu, still to have its official opening, will rank among the year’s top bar stories, one with a high-falutin’ plot if the free English magazines are any indicator (that’s Beijing got in the first “see and be seen” reference, while Timeout used “glitterati” and expressed seeming displeasure that “some guests [at the soft launch] obviously missed the whole point of Rui Fu as they slobbed around in jeans, trainers and t-shirts, not quite reflecting the A-list celebrity hang out that Lee has envisaged”). Throw in the general consensus that serious guanxi is behind the club, that Henry Li is a brand name in and of himself, and that plenty of old-time party-goers will be looking to re-live the days of Vogue and Neo Lounge, and it’s going to get interesting.

(From Beijing Boyce XXII, first emailed on August 12, 2006)

Traces of Austin Powers, The Jetsons and Laugh In come together fabulously in Zeta, a lounge and dance club that opened Monday as part of Hilton Hotel’s US$18 million upgrade. Pronounced Zee-tah, the place has eye candy galore, with sherbet oranges and antifreeze blues, groovy chairs, a twisty bar and plush carpet, and sculpted columns supporting a lofty roof zigzagged by spotlights and festooned with enough shiny stuff to keep chrome fetishists in heaven. Add in a toilet with bird cage-like stalls, a private room with backlit lemon-colored walls, and a balcony — up a wide spiral staircase — with a parrot’s-eye view of this rainbow riot, and Zeta is as must-see as a venue gets in Beijing. I popped in Tuesday night with The Flash and ran into the Hilton’s Chris Roberts, who said the default music is house (live DJs) and the alcohol focus is Champagne, wine and cocktails, though others drinks are available (case in point: I was the first to ever have a Budweiser there, another milestones in my life.) As for cocktails, the Manhattan was decent, the Wasabi and Sashimi Martini less potent than expected (though interesting), and the Zeta Long Island permeated with apricot. The only low-point: the standard martini with lemon twist was an unsatisfying marriage of vodka and vermouth. Prices are at five-star hotel levels — 75 kuai and up, with the complimentary bowls of wasabi peanuts nearly the size of small rowboats — and listed on a cylindrical menu the size of three stacked martini glasses and encircled with a wide plastic ring that slides its length and “decodes” the otherwise blurry text. This is an impressive place with the potential to make a major mark on the Beijing bar scene. Decor: A. Music: A-. Drinks: Need improvement (and yes, I realize it is early days). The will-power needed to avoid including that overworked Austin Powers phrase “Yeah, Baby!” in this write-up: sheer.

(From Beijing Boyce XXI, first emailed on July 27, 2006) 

Frank’s Place had its soft opening last Thursday. With the furniture, wall art and seven taps for draft beer in place, this spot has filled out nicely. It’s a bit higher end than the typical Beijing sports bars and has ample seating options (booths, sofas, dining tables, and high and low stools), outdoor areas front and back, eight TVs (four big and four small), and a pool table. Regulars from the old Frank’s Place and those heading toward Shunyi from downtown should be happy, though it is a long haul for those who normally party within the Second Ring Road. During May, all drinks are two-for-one. The Park Grill and The Cellar, which along with Frank’s make up TRIO, will open in June. I’ll have more on these places and on The Cellar’s Club 88 in an upcoming issue. (By the way, Nhu, a spacious club around the corner from Frank’s Place, also had its soft opening. I only popped in for ten minutes, but will make a return visit and a full report).

(From Beijing Boyce XVII, first emailed on May 27, 2006)

A sign announcing “pub” attracted me to Black Ant Leave Town, just off Sanlitun South. Perhaps, I should have been satisfied with the reading experience. The many tagged bottles and the clientele suggest it is a neighborhood retreat, and drinks were reasonably priced at 10 kuai for a Qingdao and 25 kuai for a shot of 12-year-old whisky, but things got a bit uncomfortable when what I thought was the owner approached and gave me the “Lady Bar” spiel. At that point, BEIJING BOYCE LEAVE BLACK ANT.

(From Beijing Boyce XVII, first emailed on May 27, 2006)

Mojito, funded by the people behind Souk, offers a Latin American option near the Kuntai Hotel. Despite being in the basement of a commercial building, the layout and lighting work well enough to provide an escape. The main room includes an L-shaped bar, table seating and a dance floor. Three other rooms, with plenty of sofas and pillows, offer ample seating options. The Mojito itself was so-so, the tapas fairly tasty, and the beer on tap is, according to the German manager, from the world’s oldest brewery. Once I get my notes back, I’ll have more details on this… and on a German wine and tapas tasting I attended at Cafe Pause. Not only does German Merlot exist, but in this case it was quite good.

(From Beijing Boyce XVII, first emailed on May 27, 2006) 

I’ve passed MOSCOW a hundred times and finally popped in with two friends who had a caviar craving. This is an eclectic place, with the fine China contrasting against the disco ball, and the conservatively dressed waiters a mismatch for the belly dancer. The staff exploded into action when a group of six tough-looking patrons arrived and we deemed it best to avoid eye contact with that particular table. Good kitsch and good prices, with a 100 ML snifter of vodka at 20 kuai, but it’s BYOB (Bring Your Own Bodyguard).

(From Beijing Boyce XVII, first emailed on May 27, 2006)

Jointly owned by popular bartenders George Zhou and Echo Sun and an investor, Q BAR had its soft opening on May 13 and will officially launch in June. With a spacious deck, it can hold over 100 people, and the dim lighting, snug couches and high ceilings make it comfortable and airy, though wall art is sorely needed. The big question is whether George and Echo can maintain a steady flow of the quality cocktails for which they are known, since even with a small crowd of 30 to 40, and with extra staff on hand, the martinis were slow in coming. Q Bar is on the roof of the Eastern Inn, across the street from W Sports Bar on Sanlitun South.

(From Beijing Boyce XVII, first emailed on May 27, 2006)

Due to the weather, this Japanese restaurant and sometimes live jazz venue was hot enough to inspire a sweat, but not to convince management to turn on the air conditioners, meaning Agent Red Wolf and I did our research in stuffy surroundings. The place has above-average drinks, with the Long Island refreshing and the dirty Martini stirred at the table and garnished with a black olive (it wasn’t particularly dirty, but went down fine). I’ll follow up with a few more visits, although that unfortunately means wading again through those Sanlitun lady bar touts (”looka looka!“).

(From Beijing Boyce XVI, first emailed on May 11, 2006)

The World of Suzie Wong’s: This stalwart of the Beijing bar scene has added a larger dance floor and bar (with ample red velour) on the first floor. First, the drinks: Agent Red Wolf’s Mojito was so-so, while my Manhattan was better than average. Second, the staff uniform: it’s a cross between Spartacus and the get-ups that the reasonable, peace-loving races typically wear in science fiction movies (olive wreaths would work here). Third, the clientele: a woman stands alone; a man approaches, shakes her hand and introduces himself; within three minutes they are playing doctor (I don’t think that’s her heart, buddy). This could be one of the few places in town that makes Maggies seem innocent. Even so, Suzie’s world was hopping, the drinks were okay and there is always the third floor or deck for a breather.

(From Beijing Boyce XV, first emailed on April 21, 2006)

Relaxed ambience, cloth napkins, polished silverware, attentive service, and all at reasonable prices. It’s a pleasant place to hang out and a hard one to leave, although M-Dawg took exception to the deck: “New York has the Brooklyn Bridge, San Francisco has the Golden Gate Bridge, Cafe Igosso has the Guomao Bridge.”

The pizza had a thin crust and perfect amount of blue cheese (52 kuai). As for the cocktails, Agent Red Wolf thought the Mojito okay (thanks to Galia for the recommendation), although the Bloody Mary (38 kuai) was mild and watery. The Martini came with no olives, as requested, but neither did it have a twist, though it matched well with the pizza. Overall, Le Cafe Igosso offered a decent experience and seems ideal for a first date or meeting a few friends.

(From Beijing Boyce XV, first emailed on April 21, 2006)

Fifty-square meters of reggae fun, it’s on a rather dumpy street close to Le Cafe Igosso. Red clay brick, yellow stucco and a flat-black ceiling; pine furniture with meter-square tables draped in striped cloth; walls loaded with photos and posters of Bob Marley (and one of Bob Geldof). The raised-stone decoration on the floor in front of the faux fireplace is an accident waiting to happen (”Woah, dude, tendons showing!”). M-Dawg and I were the only customers but, to be fair, there was a sandstorm raging outside. We talked to the owner about everything from marketing to counterfeit booze. Tip number one: know when thy patron’s glass is empty. Qingdao 10; Budweiser: 25; Gin and Tonic: 25.

(From Beijing Boyce XV, first emailed on April 21, 2006)

Stucco walls loaded with nude portraits, a bar menu with Jack Daniel’s and Beamish stout, and energetic live Xinjiang music — all in a space that is a redesigned passageway. In Tongli Studio, below Bar Blu, Cheers has friendly employees, fun music (though given the small place, perhaps the sound system is overkill) and 10-kuai Qingdao pints for happy hour (until 10 PM). Thanks to LT for the recommendation.

(From Beijing Boyce XIV, first emailed on April 6, 2006)

The Orange-Chocolate Martini (50 kuai), recommended by Alex (Phil’s Pub) comes with a chocolate-coated glass rim. Good, but sweet. A friend criticized the dry vodka martini as “10 percent vodka and 90 percent vermouth.” Top was nearly empty (Friday, 9 PM), but the chairs were comfy, the dim lighting was relaxing, and the music was fun. The main drawback was the overzealous waiter watching us a bit too intently.

(From Beijing Boyce XIV, first emailed on April 6, 2006)

I’ve passed it a zillion times on Sanlitun South and finally popped in last Sunday evening. Two Budweiser for 30 kuai during happy hour; pool table and seating inside; passable patio outside; and a fairly disciplined staff — all in all, it’s slightly better than the average bar on that strip.

(From Beijing Boyce XIV, first emailed on April 6, 2006)

This Centro wannabe in Wangfujing has hints of Austin Powers and “Buck Rogers in the Twenty-first Century” in its decor. It seems aimed at the nouveau rich and hotel guests on expense accounts, though the service needs work. Case in point: my order of a “martini” was almost mistranslated as “lemon tea” (yes, I like my cha stirred, not shaken). No one asked if I wanted vodka or gin, though a request for no olives brought the suggestion of a lemon twist (good idea). The martini turned out to be watery, and the lemon — untwisted (well, at least the intentions were good). Agent Red Wolf was unimpressed with the Long Island. The place seats hundreds, but there were only seven of us that night, though to be fair, the place is new and will need time to build a clientele. The band is fine (the singer doubles as a flutist), but was followed by a sleep-inducing medley of tunes, including elevator versions of Blowin’ in the Wind, Scarborough Fair and Jambalaya (on the Bayou).

(From Beijing Boyce XIV, first emailed on April 6, 2006)

This two-floor Mongolian-themed bar is the former location of Zone de Confort. Part of a restaurant chain from Ulan Bator, it offers less than authentic fare, given ingredients such as peach slices, Granny Smith apples and mayonnaise, but offers eclectic entertainment and decent drinks. The decor includes pseudo leather table covers, wagon wheels and various horse-riding gear, and is hard to describe, though M-Dawg and I had fun trying. Mongo-kitsch? Ulan Boutique? Mod-golia?

We had a grill set (memories of Schindler’s), which included slabs of pork and beef on a hot cast iron plate, and side bowls of rice and potatoes (80 kuai). “Mongolians know how to do meat,” said M-Dawg. My dumpling set included three varieties, which were savory but too chewy, as well as some ribs and a carrot salad (48 kuai). More interesting were the Mongolian vodkas, including Chingis, available straight up (25 to 30 kuai for 50 ML) or in cocktails (20 to 30 kuai), including the Bad Boy Martini (vodka and Jack Daniels) to the Bhaktan (vodka, Kahlua, Coke and milk). Knock back a few while watching a man throat sing and play a Matojin (a stringed instrument) or the four-piece band perform Mongolian and Western pop songs, including “Venus.” Add in an eccentric crowd that includes locals and foreigners, including many Mongolians, and you have the makings of an interesting night.

(From Beijing Boyce XIII, first emailed on March 24, 2006)

Vincent Cafe, in the 798 art district, offers a sizeable chicken Caesar salad (ample portions of chicken, bacon and flaked parmesan; just the right amount of sauce; 30 kuai) and tasty buckwheat crepes (egg and cheese; hot from the grill; 20 kuai). The Grace Chardonnay at 22 kuai per glass is worth a try. As my friend and lunch buddy O-Zone already knows, this is pleasant place to eat.

(From Beijing Boyce XIII, first emailed on March 24, 2006)