Beijing Boyce

The Beijing branch of Face opened a month ago and complements its brethren in Shanghai , Jakarta and Bangkok . Just south of Workers’ Stadium in a refurbished school, this is a pleasant if pricey place to while away a few hours. Decorated with art and antiquities from Asia, it will take time for Face to acquire the necessary scuffs for the worn-in look, and friends who frequent the Shanghai branch find this one far less architecturally impressive. Seating options include a long narrow dimly lit deck outside and plenty of nooks and crannies inside. A pool table and bar break up what might otherwise come off as an overly stuffy environment. On a Saturday night, tolerably loud house music played as the wait staff efficiently made drinks for a fairly well dressed and generally older crowd. An ice-filled stainless steel beer held the beer and Mojito ingredients were ready to go should an order come in. M-Dawg gave a thumbs-up to the cocktails, though my dry martini came without the twist I requested, and a martini on an earlier visit was sub-par. They are expensive at 60-70 kuai, not including an annoying 10 percent service charge, and a pint of Carlsberg comes in at 49 kuai. Overall, Face offers decent drinks, ambience and service (though teetering toward overly keen at times), but at these prices, this place is likely to be an irregular stop.

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

A beautiful sunny and breezy Sunday, the rooftop garden at The Bookworm, a coffee on the way, my fingers tapping out this newsletter — it sounds as though all is well in the universe. Unfortunately, something sad unfolds before me. First Cafe, which instantly became my favorite bar after I arrived in Beijing and which is across the way from The Bookworm, is being destroyed. Dust rises and plaster falls at the bidding of sledgehammers; a few soldiers in the small army of destruction workers hacksaw through the roof’s metal skeleton; others cart away rubble. The building is increasingly emaciated, with the only distinguishing mark being the Romanesque trimming. First Cafe was my great escape when I was a newcomer struggling to adjust to living and working in Beijing, and a visit there meant meeting old friends, new friends and soon-to-be friends, including newsletter regulars Agent Red Wolf and M-Dawg. But nothing lasts forever claim sappy rock ballads and even sappier R&B songs, and that includes this bar, disappearing before my eyes, broken brick by broken brick. So, to all the First Cafe fans — and there are dozens on this mailing list — this coming weekend raise a glass and toast the end of one of our city’s most special watering holes.

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

Compelled by the constant praise M-Dawg heaps on the place, three meals had I at American Cafe. His favorite, the Cobb salad, was a heavy hitter, the lineup including cubed chicken, sliced boiled egg, tomato, lettuce, bacon, blue cheese and black olives, among other ingredients. The spicy chicken wings were lackluster, though, and the hamburger drier than I remembered from my last visit some six months ago. But a big thumb up for the breakfast croissant with cheese (non-processed) and sides of fried potatoes, bacon and scrambled eggs. All in all, this place serves up solid food in the 35- to 40-kuai range and uses fresher ingredients than most.

(From Beijing Boyce XX, first emailed on July 13, 2006)

It was third time lucky at Mojito as after the first visit I accidentally threw away my notes and after the second visit I forgot them after some real estate barons wanted to power-drink Heineken on a night that ended up with manager Dorian and myself eating Chinese treats from tofu to intestines with the staff at 2 AM. Mojito is a Latin American-themed bar created by the brains behind Souk, Bai Feng, is near the Kuntai Hotel (facing it, go right, past the four storefronts, and turn the corner: it’s right there) and offers tasty eats, including Gazpacho (20 kuai), a variety of salads (35 kuai) and a “Mexican burger,” which is actually eight small patties provided with quarter pitas and fried zucchini, onions, black olives and green peppers (50 kuai). M-Dawg, Pony and I ordered a second helping of that last one. The Mojito is okay and the place also has draft Weihanstephaner, which Dorian says is the world’s oldest functioning brewery. Prost!

(From Beijing Boyce XVIII, first emailed on June 8, 2006)

The Crowne Plaza Hotel (Wangfujing) launched its lobby bar late last month with a party that saw the multi-hued cocktails and Veuve Cliquot flow. The waitresses sported wild hairdos, the dry ice smoked, the jazz musicians pecked out tunes and the decor had hints of Centro. The hotel’s managers circulated, picking up more than ample praise, prompting me to note that the cocktails could be better. New food and beverage manager Jeroen Jolij, a newcomer to Beijing, looked me straight in the eye and, to my surprise, did none of the following: 1) shrug his shoulders, 2) insincerely say “sorry,” 3) blame it on fellow employees, 4) give me an “if you don’t like it, go somewhere else” look, or 5) mush a strawberry into my face. Instead, he escorted me to the bar, introduced me to a man named Finn Huang, and asked me to order. “Vodka martini with a twist” said I, and a few minutes later, with a perfect string of lemon peel, a tasty three-ounce drink appeared courtesy of Finn. (Note: Even M-Dawg, no fan of martinis, excitedly remarked, “THAT looks like a real cocktail!”.) Well, we all get lucky, so I asked Finn to have another go, this time with gin. Once again, another magically intoxicating drink appeared. That’s the good news. Now, the bad: Finn was only in Beijing for the night, as his regular gig is Three on the Bund in Shanghai. The silver lining: any bar with the sense to hire a quality bartender, even for one night, has potential. (Note: Afterwards, I headed to nearby Garden of Delights and had a delicious Mojito Martini and a Long Island. Good stuff.)

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

It’s right on the verge of that graveyard formerly known as

. You have to hold the toilet door closed while you do your business. And the music lineup features I Will Always Love You (Whitney Houston), Making Love Out of Nothing at All (Air Supply) and Hello (Lionel Ritchie). Even so, the owners are friendly and the place draws a somewhat steady flow of expatriates and locals, including M-Dawg. One weird incident: a guy dressed in a floppy neon orange Crocodile Dundee hat and fluorescent green vest came in, went behind the bar, pulled out a couple of microphones, did about 200 sound checks, and then started scatting to dance music. Horrible, but five bucks says he ends up on TV within the next six months.

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

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)

It was Friday night, 2:30 AM, Agent Red Wolf had called nearly a dozen pizza places - Buona, Papa John’s, you name it - and none could deliver. The hunger mounted, mirages materialized, unconsciousness neared, and with my last bit of energy I hoarsely whispered, “The Den.” Lo and behold, less than 30 minutes later, two pizzas and two burgers were at the door (130 RMB; thanks to GZ for the treat). Nourished, I then recalled someone saying that The Den had a good happy hour, so I popped down there the following Thursday with M-Dawg and Pony. The deal: drinks and pizzas are half-price from 5-10 PM (sorry, I can’t remember which days). The meal: five pies (eight-inch, thin crust and tasty), two pints of Guinness, three pints of Qingdao and two drinks for 230 kuai. Except for spotting a (small) bug wander across the bar top, it was a very happy hour.

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

Six months after my last visit, I returned with M-Dawg and Pony, primarily because our first choice for brunch was closed. (Way to go, Modern Nomads: Next time, prepare a brunch before you advertise it.) Frankly, W really bothers me. First, the buffet brunch (58 kuai, sans drinks): there are plenty of choices, but many are mediocre, and besides the passable sausage and the bacon-wrapped chicken, the “Brazilian BBQ” meat is nothing special. Second, the decor: foosball table, ping pong table and dart board; DJ booth and disco ball; sofas, table seating and barstools; ping pong paraphernalia, modern art and a Sergeant Pepper’s plate on the walls. It’s like being at a trade show for bar and restaurant themes. Finally, the projectiles: is it just me or is it annoying to have ping pong balls zinging at the table during lunch? On the plus side, the place was half-full, so it seems there are Beatles-ping pong-disco-so-so-salad fans out there.

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

Ex-First Cafe, ex-Midnight bartending buffs George (GZ) and Echo (EC) are now free at nights to indulge in the intoxicating concoctions they customarily create for others, so we met at my pad last Saturday for creative cocktail-making with three people who have helped this e-newsletter - Agent Red Wolf, M-Dawg and Pony.

Eat before drink, I always say, so we started with M-Dawg and Pony’s Waldorf-style salad, Red Wolf’s famous three-cup chicken, and my BB pasta, accompanied by Catai Cabernet Sauvignon 2004. This is a decent and affordable local wine made by an Italian-Chinese venture, distributed by Summergate, recommended to me by several people, and sold at 48 kuai a bottle by, among others, Jenny Lou’s (last Saturday it was buy two, get one free; thanks to Summergate’s Linda for her help).

Our light repast complete, EC got the martinis started by mixing Stolichnaya vodka, hot chili pepper brine, and the body (including the seeds) of one pepper, which was pleasantly translucent as a garnish. This drink begat grimaces and coughing fits from M-Dawg and Red Wolf, an “okay” from Pony and GZ, and a big thumb ups from EC and me. We tried two derivatives: one with a splash of tequila and a second with both tequila and three drops of Tobasco. These were tasty all. (Note: M-Dawg suggested the name, “Acid Reflux.”)

GZ then got busy with: a grape Cosmopolitan, which had a strong citrus nose, but taste identity issues (is it grape, is it orange, is it groinge?); a lychee liqueur, Taiwan peach schnapps and vodka mix M-Dawg called “The Monkey King,” though he noted it lacked a banana garnish (I respected the integrity of its name by sweetening it up with maple syrup, which comes from trees, where monkeys spend most of their time); and a dependable lychee liqueur, grape juice and vodka.

Next, we turned to fun garnishes. The first martini, by EC, had three shots of vodka and three blue cheese-stuffed olives. It tasted like a plain old dry martini, so EC tried to marry the brie and alcohol, with cloudy and chunky results (pass). (Meanwhile, GZ made a “Maple Collins,” which included lemon, soda, gin and maple syrup. This was extremely refreshing and was immediately added to my list of drinks to sip while relaxing in a hammock on a hot, sunny day.)

I jumped into the fray with a martini garnished with sun-dried tomato and an anchovy. “It’s got a little oil slick on top,” said M-Dawg. “It smells like fish,” said EC and Pony. Visual and olfactory factors aside, this drink initially tasted like a dry martini and then slowly, and unfortunately, absorbed the anchovy flavor. I made a martini with three smoked salmon-stuffed olives, with similar results.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, Red Wolf scribbled in my notes: “Good Lord, why hath thou forsaken me? When will these people leave me in peace?” (Uh, did I miss something while I was in the bathroom?), followed by, “11:37 PM, seven-pepper martini invented.” That drink was mine and was a powerful concoction, reminiscent of that Szechuan dish with popcorn-sized bites of chicken hidden among hundreds of red chili peppers.

(Note: At this point, Agent Red Wolf did some multi-tasking, both fixing my fridge, which had mysteriously risen to 13 degrees from 5, and making a seven-pepper Bloody Mary described by Pony as “like an old spicy hot pot.”)

We were now in the home stretch, our final cocktail containing vodka, three drops of Canadian Club, grape juice, Thai lime juice and maple syrup. I dubbed it “George 318” and we all collapsed on the sofas. A long trail of glasses, ice and squeezed lemons lay behind as, exhausted, we looked out past Worker’s Stadium at Beijing’s skyline. After a 30-minute breather, we decided one more concoction was in order. With that, Agent Red Wolf raided my fridge, gathered up the produce and made some hearty vegetable soup.

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

Fancy an eve of claustrophobic fun? The bomb shelter bar below Red Capital Residence might be your glass of maotai. It’s definitely one of the more interesting drinking holes (in the ground). Getting there is half the adventure as you climb into a manhole-sized opening and down steep stairs under a low ceiling: awkward for all but the most nimble. (Note: The toilet is upstairs, so go before starting your journey to the center of the earth.)

The house drinks are, uh, revolutionary. I tried the “Lin Biao Crash” (88 kuai), which includes vodka, apricot and lemon juice, and peppermint white and blue caracao. It’s topped off with maotai and lit afire: thus, the “crash.” (I took mine “un-crashed.”) When my friend M-Dawg returned from the bathroom (again, go BEFORE you descend), he asked, “What stinks?” That would be the maotai, although the drink was surprisingly good. Other house cocktails include “The Long March” (”for fierce steadfast drinkers”), “Dream of Red Capital” (”in the morning you will feel as if the market has undergone a correction”) and “Black Cat / White Cat” (”excessive intake may inhibit one’s ability to catch mice”). Five-star Beer is 30 kuai.

The bar has three rooms, roughly measuring three by eight meters in totality, and two-meter ceilings. The orange brick walls feature Mao-era memorabilia, including posters, figurines and posters, a couple of guns and a projector.

The small, cluttered and cozy lounge on the first floor is also worth a look. Park in the “decision-making chairs” which, according to a plaque, were used by Premier Zhou Enlai and Marshalls Chen Yi, Nie Rongzhan and Peng Dehuai when receiving guests or discussing serious affairs during the fifties and sixties. “One may sit here only when considering an important issue,” states the plaque (i.e. martinis: vodka versus gin). You might also read “Red Star over China,” “Foreign Devils on the Silk Road,” or one of the other available books. Like the bomb shelter, the lounge sports Mao-era propaganda.

(From Beijing Boyce X, first emailed on February 10, 2006).

M-dawg and I decided to check out Charlie’s, the oldest bar in town, but since it was closed for renovations, we visited another “old timer” in Beijing - Mexican Wave. Home of the Beijing Hash, it is fairly comfy with some interesting wall murals, though the fish tank in the back room seems out of place. Even though it was a Wednesday night, the place was pretty busy.

Our burritos (RMB30) were quickly delivered. Mine was lukewarm and a bit bland in contrast with the salsa that left my mouth burning. On the positive side, it was, um, filling. The trademark Mexican Wave beer was sold out, so we settled for Qingdao. They were, um, filling too. What else can you say about the place? M-Dawg marveled at how it had been around since 1988: “It demonstrates staying power and has miraculously avoided being chai’d.”

(Note: Major downsides included the eight-point, all-cap font in the menu (it looks better than it reads) and waiters continually slamming the kitchen door as they came out to deliver food.)

(From Beijing Boyce IX, first emailed on January 26, 2006)

One of three remaining holdouts at the southern end of Sanlitun South, it is your typical bar in a box: rectangular, tile floor, wooden tables, wooden bar, a few posters, a foosball machine [Ed. M-Dawg’s hand-eye coordination is easily depleted by fruit cocktails]. Qingdao: 10 kuai, Bacardi Breezer: 15 kuai. Sesame was empty, so we had a monopoly on the foosball as we listened to a CD on which every song title contained the word “America”: David Bowie (I’m Afraid of America), Violent Femmes (American Music), James Brown (Living in America), you get the idea. Sesame is nothing special, but okay if you like foosball and cheap drinks.

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

In contrast to its eye-catching and arty name cards, this place on Gongti North felt cluttered and disorderly. Unfortunately, I never fully experienced the ambience given the following dialogue with the waiter:

[Hands us a menu]

“It’s 40 kuai for all-you-can-drink Great Wall wine or draft beer.”

[I look at the menu and see bottled Qingdao for 15 kuai.]

“Can I just have a bottle of Qingdao?”

“Yes.”

“Great!”

“But it will cost 55 kuai - 40 for the all-you-can-drink special and 15 for the Qingdao.”

“That’s really smart, isn’t it?” [Yes, I got sarcastic, which doesn’t usually work in these places. They take you literally.]

In any case, Pipes Cafe is supposedly a hangout for the lesbian crowd and my friend speculated that the 40-kuai deal is a way of keeping out riff raff like us (hey, I love women, too!).

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