Beijing Boyce

Big Bamboo has a good layout and ambience, a friendly staff, and free wireless. This multi-floor wood-happy sports bar was my default Internet spot after nearby Coffee Bean (nice Latte) had troubles with its connection. Big Bamboo sees a trickle of happy hour (2-8 PM) patrons from four o’clock onwards, many of whom are up for a friendly game of pool. “Dr. Mike” is one of them. He takes an inch of Sprite in his beer, says he has delivered babies for quite a few Beijing bar owners (he has been in China for many a year), and sends a cheery hello to everyone.

Big Bamboo Owner Bryce Jenner supports numerous local sports teams, including the ice dogs, and is thinking of buying a bus for them (and the patrons?). He’s also planning to add bigger flat-panel TVs. Tiger beer: 40 kuai (20 kuai during happy hour). Weak points include so-so food (the nachos were particularly sub-par) and a deceptive step just inside the door, on which I saw a dozen people trip. Overall, though, a big thumb up for Big Bamboo, where I enjoyed chatting with friends, playing an expert foosball player (even notched two goals) and watching, with the bar packed to the rafters, the Olympic gold medal hockey game between Sweden and Finland (the place went crazy with that electrifying finish).

Next up was the trendier, pricier, dimmer and more cramped Blue Frog (Tongren branch). I went with D-Rock, Kraft-D and Alpha Veda (AV) and friends for dinner, and tracked down the owner, who shares my family name. This brings us to Conversation 1: What about Bob?

[The first floor of the bar is sparsely populated. A patron is about to make a simple query.]

Me: “Is Bob Boyce here?“

Employee [behind the bar]: “What?”

“Bob Boyce, the owner.”

Employee hands me a pack of Marlboros.

“I don’t want cigarettes. I’m looking for Bob Boyce. The owner. Boss. Laoban.”

The employee confers with a colleague and then makes a vague hand gesture toward the bar’s end. I walk there; see a guy talking on a cell phone; wait until he’s finished.

Me: “Hi, are you Bob Boyce?”

Guy: “Excuse me?”

“Are you Bob Boyce?”

“[Sarcastically] No, but I could pretend to be him for five minutes.”

There you have it folks. My second stop in Shanghai and I already knew where to find quality service AND comedy. I eventually did track Bob down. He owns four Blue Frog outlets and a place called KABB (see below), and is a bit of a legend in the local bar scene, having opened his first bottles almost a decade ago on Maoming (which is apparently on its last legs and faces the same fate as did our Sanlitun South a year ago). Each Blue Frog is geared to its location, so if you either like or dislike one, don’t hold it against the others. The name itself comes from an ancient Greek hallucinatory drink containing blue curacao, ouzo, and secretions from a frog native only to Sparta (the garnish is three olives on a tiny plastic Sword of Damocles). Okay, I made that last part up, because I forgot to ask Bob about the name, but a Yahoo search reveals that “blue frog” jumped into his head one day. Bob’s thinking of making the leap to Beijing to open a bar.

Anyway, I rejoined my friends upstairs just in time for conversations about U.S.-Canada relations, the role of global elites, Mongolian hedge funds: pros and cons, and new perspectives on images of Ganesh in modern Indian poetry. (Okay, I also made up those last two, but these are the kinds of topics that spin off when someone shows up with a serious book like, “Policing Shanghai, 1927-1937.” Nice work, Jay!). By the way, of the four hamburgers I had in Shanghai, Blue Frog’s was the best, and had a perfectly cooked patty (more pickle would have been nice). During Happy Hour, it was 70 kuai and included a large draft. The place itself seems more appropriate for a first date than our restless and ready-for-the-town group, so we headed to…

Manhattan, where on my last visit I saw a fun Filipino band. The place was virtually empty this time around, so we continued on to Senses wine bar (thanks to readers GT and CD for the tip). In theory, I love this spot – an establishment dedicated to wine and with a good selection available by the glass. One drawback is the mish mash of patterns on the wall, the kitschy pink rafter lights et al (for a successful recreation room re-creation, see Plan B). We came at the tail end of a wine-tasting event and tried some of those vintages, along with a passable Grace Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon, though Kraft-D didn’t like it – as he mentioned at least eight dozen times. (I’m convinced he would be just as critical if I filled his glass with Chateau Latour and told him it was Chinese wine. Yes, that’s a cheap shot.) The wines range from Frontera Cabernet Sauvigon and Two Oceans Shiraz at 200 kuai to Wolf Blass Gold Label 2002 at 510 kuai to Grand Cru territory. Monday features 25-kuai glasses of wine; Tuesday has 30 percent off bottles; Wednesday and Thursday gets you a one-kuai meal with any bottle bought; and there is a BBQ on the weekend. Kraft-D said that Senses outdoor seating area is “among the most outstanding features of the place.”

Owner Matt Ryan kindly sat down and talked to us about the wine business, noting a Qingdao Riesling and a Xinjiang ice wine (first I’d heard of them). After polishing off our third bottle, he proclaimed, “Hamburger time, fellows.” We headed off, but not before the owner in question went toe-to-toe with six bouncers across the street – all in the Olympic spirit, of course – over the issue of grabbing taxis. A man who can handle a corkscrew and has Jackie Chan moves – ladies, what are you waiting for?

I recall little about the Eager Beaver, except it had high chairs, a neighborhood bar feel, and more chalk graffiti than an art school. Matt kindly manned the bar until someone appeared from the back and we were soon inhaling burgers (barbecued, toasted bun) and fries (RMB35). It was a perfect way to deal with the post-Midnight munchies. (Note: My apologies for yelling at the guy who announced, “Curling is not a sport.” Yes, he is entitled to his opinion and I should have remained placid, but really, until you’ve tried picking up a heavy rock, sliding it along the ice, and aiming, with perfect weight, to an exact spot far, FAR away, you might want to keep an open mind. Even so, my apologies, and should we meet again, the next Beaver burger is on me. P.S. Curling IS a sport.)

(From Beijing Boyce XII, first emailed on March 12, 2006)

D-Rock and I ate lunch at Malone’s so I could try the burger, which like Blue Frog’s, made it to the semifinals of a recent contest by SH magazine (which is quite good, by the way, but lags behind that’s Beijing). Malone’s menu has 18 kinds of burgers, from a “Fajita,” with cheddar, sour cream, salsa, onion and peppers, to a “Cowboy,” with jack cheese, bacon, and fried mushrooms and onions (all of them are 48 kuai, with fries and salad). The place has a cafeteria feel about it: the free refills of watery iced tea, the ketchup and Thousand Island dressing that looked institutional, and the fries that seemed as though cooked in a fifty-pound lot. The saving grace: the burger was good.

D-Rock was dispassionate about his burrito: “It’s mediocre and there’s lot of it.” Perhaps that’s the point: Malone’s is a place for groups of businesspeople to get together, chat, have a big if not spectacular meal, and then go back to the office completely carbed up, all for a fairly low price. Certainly, there is a need for such spots. Given the long bar and the posters advertising live music, I have a feeling I would like Malone’s a lot more at night, and will visit again when I return to Shanghai.

(Note: Rendez-vous Cafe is considered by many to have the best burgers in town. While the cafe’s decor is nothing to write home about – the centerpiece is an oversized Heineken bottle on a wall unit – the burger is indeed tasty, if a bit pliable. Blue Frog’s burger, however, gets my vote for taste, with Rendez-vous holding its own if you figure in value – 30 kuai, including fries and drink.)

While getting my free wireless fix at Big Bamboo, lo and behold, there appeared on a stool a few meters away an icon of the Taipei bar scene – Winopete. His happy hour newsletter a few years back had a cult following, the legend being made when, due to unwavering diligence, he discovered a hole-in-the-wall bar where three large bottles of Taiwan draft for three dollars. All hail the master! This fateful meeting could only mean one thing: it was time for the British pubs.

We started at British Bulldog, a standard two-floor pub, though be forewarned: avoid the seat near the door, since the dip in the ceiling blocks half of the big-screen TV and the nearby heater blows right on your face. Ever the handy man and realizing that the nearby owner and waitresses were not about to do anything, I adjusted the heater vents. Pete had gotten us there just in time (no surprise) for happy hour (6 to 8 PM), which meant two-for-one. Except for our friendly, funny, bubbly waitress, the Bulldogs were pretty mellow, with people prone and evidently letting a week’s worth of stress evaporate. Note: British Bulldog has two Tiger beers plus free flow curry for 100 kuai on Mondays, a trivia night, and British comedy and films on weekends.

O’Malley’s is set off the street, behind a wall, and has nice outdoor seating. Inside, the main floor has plenty of nooks and crannies, one of which contained two friends from Taiwan, De Usher and K-Gin. After hugs and kisses, we headed for floor two, which was rustic and airy, especially with those high rafters. O’Malley’s has been around since 1996, says Pete, but – and this is a major black mark in his book – has no happy hour. He also criticized having Frontera as a house wine (“They could do better. Even Eaglehawk is better than this”) and the high prices (“It’s hard to find a more expensive bar like this than O’Malley’s.”). A pint of Guinness: 65 kuai. The Bloody Mary was okay, the staff was friendly, and I thought it was worth the stop.

Third up was the nearby Blarney Stone, where we met D-Rock and Kraft-D. Fairly empty when we arrived, the place was soon bustling. Service was okay, though D-Rock though the staff a bit lethargic. Carlsberg: 40 kuai a pint; I think Guinness was 65 kuai. Blarney Stone seemed quite cliquish, with a lot of couples and small groups. On the other hand, friends have told me it’s a great place to strike up conversations with strangers. Kraft-D described it as “not overly commercial” and I can only say more research is required. (Note: This is not a good place to practice your Irish imitations, even if they are in good fun.)

With three British pubs under our belts, we headed to Hongmei Street, which is pretty much in the middle of… nowhere. This area is expected to be booming in a few years, but, unfortunately, my trip was measured in a few days. Our first stop was Be Bop, which has an identity crisis. On the speakers: reggae. On the tube: NBA basketball. On the walls: too much neon, alongside art that ranged from traditional prints to cheesy nudes. On the tables: dice games. On the chairs: bar staff willing to lend an ear to a lonely fellow. This place seemed to be a combination of Taipei’s Combat Zone and Beijing’s Sanlitun North strip. If you’re male and looking for someone to talk to (note: you’ll be buying drinks for two), Be Bop might be for you.

A few doors down the empty street was Baby Bamboo, Big Bamboo’s second outlet, and one of only three places with more than a handful of customers. (Witness our visit to the Blue Frog branch nearby, where the chairs were already stacked for the night.) The pole dancer gave the place a slightly sleazy feeling that, as D-Rock noted, isn’t exactly going to bring in female clients, the absence of which is not exactly going to bring in male clients. The bar had the standard two-floor layout – a bar downstairs, a pool table upstairs. “It’s like Big Bamboo, but smaller,” said Kraft-D, thereby affirming that putting “baby” in the name was a good call. “It’s the right size for this street. It might one day outgrow the space, but right now it works.” Tiger Beer: 35 kuai.

Our last Hongmei stop was 3D, which we couldn’t pass up after spotting the window display of beer. This was a cozy place and had the only genuine bar ambience on the street. I had two wishes: one, that I hadn’t been too tired to keep more notes, and two, that this had been our first stop on Hongmei.

With Kraft-D heading home, D-Rock and I decided to hit one more place – Park 97. This is a high-end bar chock full of “the beautiful people” – except for the sick guy in the bathroom who sounded like he was trying to eject his lungs through his nostrils. Drinking lesson number one: know thy limit. Park 97 is comfortable but pricey (Heineken: 55 kuai), and offers good music and plenty of people-watching opportunities. Going there is like going to Tokyo: if you have the money, you will have the funny.

(From Beijing Boyce XII, first emailed on March 12, 2006)

While Morel’s, The Tree and others sell Belgian beers, Beer Mania is smaller, cozier and has information about each brew, with manager Marc van Buren providing recommendations upon request. Thus, as I sipped a Maredsous Triple (10%), I flipped through Petite Fute: Guide to Belgian Beers and learned that my beer’s “acidity, softness and bitterness make this clear blond with a persistent head a harmonious beer – balanced, round and full.” Superb! As for the Westmalle Triple (9.5%), I noticed the fruitiness even before reading about its “fruity and herby nose accompanied by notes of fresh hops.” Excellent! These beers are 35 kuai each during happy hour (regular price: 50 kuai). I’ve thrice visited Beer Mania since mentioning it in issue II, including last Saturday night with Agent Red Wolf and K-Dog [Kraft-D], who was in town from Shanghai. The place won’t win any awards for layout and decor, but is great for “shopping” for Belgian beers by perusing the glass-fronted refrigerator. K-Dog described Marc as a “perfect” manager – “he isn’t intrusive and appears just in time to recommend another beer.” My only suggestion: erect a wall or hang draperies in front of the toilet so patrons don’t get a view inside it each time the door is opened.

(From Beijing Boyce VIII, first emailed on January 13, 2006)

I don’t understand why Big Easy (Chaoyang Park, south gate) doesn’t get more exposure. The layout, bands, bar grub and Bloody Marys are all good. I’ve been there a half-dozen times and always enjoyed myself. / I’m increasingly finding myself at The Pavillion. Last Saturday night, I sank into one of those huge leather chairs and split a bottle of sherry (RMB280) with a friend. I was back the next morning for the buffet brunch – its hardy fare with bottomless coffee and tea (how about adding juice?) for 68 kuai. / My friend K-Dog [Kraft-D] wonders why every bar seems to use those bland bottled olives in their martinis. Is anyone out there using high-end garnishes? If not, why not? / Beijing’s service industry took a serious hit when Li Yan moved back to his hometown in Henan Province. He was a security guard at my office and was friendly, courteous and efficient. Whether helping to direct traffic, unloading parcels or loaning taxi money to office workers who had forgotten their wallets, he epitomized good service and will be missed. (Note: this guy should be training the guards, not working as one.) / Finally, it being a new year and with the newsletter now eight issues and 20,000 words old, I extend thanks to six people who have gone above and beyond in backing my little e-newsletter project, whether it be in terms of testing the city’s establishments (Sherry Tan, Mike Wester), giving background on the food and drink scene (Frank Siegel, Don St. Pierre) or providing moral support (Ro King, Kevin Dempsey). I really do appreciate their help and that of everyone else who has written to me. Cheers, BB.

(From Beijing Boyce VIII, first emailed on January 13, 2006)

My friends Kevin, aka Kraft-D, and “Alpha” Veda were up from Shanghi during the October holiday. Here’s K-D’s quick wrap-ups of various eateries and drinkeries we visited on his first day here: Steak and Eggs (“The test for a chicken Caesar salad is whether the lettuce is cold and crisp and the chicken is warm,” and it was. They have bottomless coffee. More places should do this.”), Stone Boat (“The service was poor and the coffee wasn’t good, but it was great weather for sitting out on the deck. I saw a fish jump out of the pond [in Ritan Park].”), Le Petit Gourmand (“With all those demolished buildings, this place looks like it’s in the middle of a war zone — ground zero. We sat down because they told us it was The Bookworm, but we figured out that it had moved.”), The Bookworm (“Great ambience, great qi, good prices, a real you’re-welcome-here feeling“), The Tree (“Pretty good pizza, but the salad was kind of limp. Good crowd“), and Apertivo (“The wine of the month idea is a good idea and RMB18 for beers was pretty good value. It was nice to sit out on the patio.”)

We also made two trips to Houhai and one to the Great Wall, where we talked marketing strategies for an hour with those beverage sellers who must spend half the day dragging their cans and bottles (and ice!) up there, but I’ll save that stuff for the next newsletter.

(From Beijing Boyce II, first emailed on October 20, 2005)