Beijing Boyce

Saturday started with a wine lunch near the Summer Palace that lasted so long it matured into a wine dinner in Wudaokou. Even better, the random bottles brought covered six continents - South American (Chile), North American (United States), Asia (China), Africa (South Africa), Europe (France), and Australia. Plus, I had my first Lebanese wine. Good times! And more than enough reason to head out to celebrate. A brief wrap-up on the night that followed:

Room 101: Despite the rain, the closing party drew a sizable crowd, at least that’s the scene I found at 11 PM. The DJ dropped some funky tunes, the owners hustled behind the bar, and everyone raised a few final glasses. It is slated to be back in November with a new name, a restaurant upstairs, and a bar / café downstairs.

Maggie’s: Someone at Room 101 asked if this Ritan Park hot spot had reopened, so we scrounged up a copy of the Russian-language Yabao Ru magazine, found the Maggie’s listing, called the number, heard the guy who answered say “open”, and headed off. Alack and alas, we found the door shut tighter than a clam.

Swing: This is the only spot I visit on the Sanlitun North strip and things are touch and go at that. Even forgetting the incredibly annoying “lady bar” tout outside, the 40-kuai Gin Tonics lack punch and there is a lone toilet, a squatter, which means a constant lineup. Also, on this night I ended up losing an argument with the bartender about whether I had been shortchanged, though we later received free tequila shooters. Fair enough.

This place draws a big crowd, and numerous regulars, and a big reason is the house band in residence for more than a year. The two singers and guitarist do use preprogrammed music, notably drums, but also display personality and humor as they play sing-along standards - think John Cougar - that keep the vast majority of patrons happy. They did an interesting a capella version of Kylie Minogue’s Can’t Get You Out of My Mind and covered a Korean and a Chinese song. (I learned that fellow beverage research scholar Ping Pong not only can sing, but also is willing to brave the limelight at Swing and jump on to the stage. Who knew!?)

The Rickshaw: We found ourselves on the street, in the chill and rain, seeking comfort food. Hello medium wings! The first to smart my tongue in months, they hit the spot before we hit the road.

Part 4 of a series on where Beijing residents enjoy a beverage (or two). This round is with beverage quality control expert Paul Adkins.

First an honourable mention to Havana Bar. It has the potential to be a great little bar, once people discover it. Nicely decorated, with an excellent selection of drinks, along with some slick music from the house band, The Eleventh Commandment. Management just needs to hang in there and get some marketing happening. But don’t rush - sometimes it’s nice to have the place to myself.

Coming in at number 5, Cheers in Tongli. Cheap beer, great Xinjiang music. But the feature that most attracts me (not the art) is the world’s worst pool table. It’s the pool equivalent to crazy golf, but it evens up the scoring, so that’s OK by me.

Aria takes spot number 4. Maybe because I am Australian, and my usual Aria outing is Friday nights. It’s always great to get back to the tribal roots, say “g’day” to mates, and talk about the important things in life - cricket, footy and sheilas. Aria would have got a higher rating, but the AustCham Kooka Pub organisers have been kicked out for the Olympics.

Sequoia Café is in many ways the inverse of Aria. Where Aria offers the tribal roots, Sequoia gives me a chance to meet friends from all over the world. Any time I go there, I am likely to meet acquaintances from Slovenia, France, USA, Ireland, Germany - Frank even lets Canadians in. Frank’s Friday night wine tastings are usually a magical mystery tour - wines from parts of the world that I have never tried before. Frank and Jennifer are always friendly and take the time to say hello, which is nice.

Second prize goes to Saddle Cantina. I love the music, the burritos, the drinks list and the deck. Their pool table is too new yet, with a true surface - so I tend to lose more often.

Top place however goes to a private little place. It’s well-stocked with everything I like to drink, and music that I can choose according to how I feel. It’s a spot where I can sit quietly and veg out or enjoy the company of friends. It’s an oasis - but it’s my bar at home, and it’s where I go when I am not out on the town. Not only that, but the bartender there makes the best margaritas in town.

Finally, I want to put down a ghost vote for Maggie’s. Why this dead den of iniquity? Because my girlfriend and I used to love going along and bopping to the music. A couple of hours on the dance floor there was a night well-spent. Sure it got a bit sleazy when the “ladies of the night” arrived, but they never went anywhere near the dancers.

We are looking forward to seeing it re-open after the Olympics.

Previously:
Chandler Jurinka, Local Noodles
Kevin Shen, T3 Terminal
Steven Schwankert, SinoScuba

This kicks off a series of posts about where Beijing residents enjoy a beverage or two.

Steven Schwankert is founder of Beijing-based diving school SinoScuba. Last year he led an Explorers Club team on a two-week diving expedition of Lake Khovsgol in Mongolia. Next week he will lead a dive on the underwater parts of the Great Wall. Long story short: He is familiar with liquid. Here are his bar picks:

Drinking and diving don’t mix, but kept separate they are fine. Overall, I try to patronize bars that are owned and/or run by divers.

The Rickshaw
They offer the thing that is most important to me at a bar - a stable Internet connection. The service and food is just OK, but they have sports and news on big TVs, the location is convenient, and there’s a regular crowd that’s usually annoyance-free until 6 pm. Kris, one of the owners, is a diver.

Tim’s Texas BBQ
Great bottomless iced tea, a very refreshing drink after a dive except if it was an ice dive! Good Internet for afternoon use. The owner Tim dives - we had SinoScuba’s fifth anniversary party here.

Face
Nothing to do with diving, but visitors love it, they make a decent malarial cure (gin and tonic), and the crowd is tolerable.

The Press Club Bar
I’m looking forward to this place re-opening when the St. Regis finishes its renovation. They make the best Tanqueray and tonic I’ve ever had.

Maggie’s (R.I.P.)
Spare me the crass comments, it was the one bar that, regardless of its patrons, was open late, had great bartenders, great rock music, and just a bit of an edge.

Some notes from recent journeys about town.

1.
Known for tasty tapas and a relaxed atmosphere, Mare on Xindong Lu is expanding.

2.
Just west of Mare, on Xingfucun Zhonglu, lies Sunset. This place is dark, dingy and dirt-cheap (RMB100 for 14 shots of some beverages) and will please those who pine for Beijing dives. I’d suggest this spot forgo table clothes, which look like they just survived a food fight, and stick to linoleum. (Unfortunately, a rumored ‘baijiu quarters’ game didn’t materialize Sunday and thus denied us some unintentional humor.)

3.
At least as of the weekend, Maggies remains closed.

4.
Ritz-Carlton Hotel’s Italian restaurant Cepe gets high marks for décor (cozy, warm, glimpses of the kitchen) and service (from handling reservations to keeping wine glasses full), but lower ones for food (note: the prices are my guess-timates, since I forget to grab the invoice).

The Portobello mushrooms with shrimp and baked eggplant puree consisted of four mushroom caps, two small shrimps, the puree and a tiny salad. While the mushrooms were meaty, I found the dish anemic and - given its size - outrageously priced at RMB140. The caviar with tuna tartar and seaweed (RMB175) came off as too fishy, while the codfish with green lentils (RMB200+) saw the vegetable overwhelming the fish. The gnocchi (RMB175) fared best - a sizable portion, with a nice mushroom sauce and Ricotta, though it could have used a bit more zip.

Cepe offers an extensive wine list that is conveniently segmented by wine style, rather than grape variety or country. We had Dr. L Riesling (RMB450), which went well with the fish. Wine starts at RMB318 a bottle. Our bill totaled RMB1435 - a bit pricey for what we got, to say the least.

5.
Q Bar now offers food, with just over a dozen items on the menu, including chocolate mouse, mini-bagels, and prunes and other items wrapped in bacon.
6.
I have returned to Ciro’s since my first unfortunate visit. This time The Cellar Rat and I parked at the bar, where, to our surprise, there is no service charge. Two sizable pours of Sacred Hill Sauvignon Blanc (RMB45) did us proper and the bartender did a decent job. The only suggestion - the vertical neon tube, in the glass-fronted fridge, gives off far too much glare. That should be easy enough to fix.

7.
I pray for many things - more peace, love and understanding, less pollution, a World Series for the Cubs, a trip to Boracay, and for The Bookworm to put some padding on its wooden door. Listening to that thing slam more than a dozen times an hour interjects a major annoyance into otherwise enjoyable visits. Seriously, I think three or four pads - like those that go beneath chair legs to reduce drag - would do the trick, and for a few kuai at that. I doubt I’m alone in loathing that door, as I noticed several people near me squinting every time that thing slammed shut.

8.
Based on the emails I get and other sources, the number of fights - and particularly foreigner vs. local brawls - has been on the rise in Sanlitun over the past year. Imbibers beware.

9.
If you love neon, then you’ll be in ecstasy once the new club south of Revelations (ex-Browns) and east of The Regal Club (that massive KTV-whatever that my friend says looks something like “The Ministry of Truth from a Shrek movie”) opens. My peak through a crack in the still-unopened doors revealed neon on the ceiling, neon on the walls, neon on the floor, and… neon in the halls. Meanwhile, the club on Gongti North called Success (with dollar signs for letters “s”) when I arrived in Beijing has gone through several reincarnations and is now known as Armaini (no typo).

10.
I’m guessing that of the foreigners I know who smoke in Beijing, over 75 percent puff on Zhongnanhai, with an inclination toward the 0.8 brand. How did this start? Do newcomers choose Zhongnanhai because they see others smoking them? Is it something about the packaging? Couldn’t someone get a Master’s thesis out of this?

After spending months on renovations, Maggies no sooner re-opened than it was closed, including its famous hot dog stand out front. According to a sign on the door last night:

This bar is closed for five days due to fire control alterations, we are sorry for any inconvenience

Maggie’s bar management

2008-3-21

Hmmm…

It’s a dog’s life.

(Hat tip to The Cellar Rat for the tip.)

Ranking among the city’s more famous / infamous establishments, Maggies began renovations and an expansion last last year that left only its back end open. According to several Maggies employees, the bar will fully open by Thursday at the latest. Throughout the changes, Maggie’s has continued to crank out its popular hot dogs near the entrance. (It’s the mustard - fried shallot combination that makes them good.)

Having sampled the vast majority of the city’s drinking holes, The Cellar Rat is a hard imbiber to impress and thus I suggested we start a recent confab at a new microbrewery and pub called Toper. Alack and alas, my less than stellar navigational skills left us lost, so we decided to make like a compass and “go north.” This meant visits to several spots associated with our chillier neighbors - Russia and Mongolia.

We first stopped at the Russian-owned AmbassaD’or Club, near One Thousand and One Nights. The Cellar Rat found the decor somewhat kitschy. “Russian bars and restaurants are always a bit over the top and this one is definitely catering to the clientele,” said TCR. “It’s like ABBA, though. It’s a bit cheesy and out-of-date, but still sort of enjoyable.”

The wine prices are excellent. A Montana Pinot Noir goes for 255 kuai a bottle, a small mark-up, while the budget-conscious can grab a bottle of Santa Rita for 120 kuai. The list includes eight wines by the glass at 25 kuai and up; pours comes in proper glassware. The seating options range from bar stools to a range of tables, the manager speaks English and the staff is efficient.

With a bottle below our belts, so to speak, we yo-ho-ho’d to Treasure Island. This place takes the kitsch up a notch, from the fake tree in the entryway to the disco ball inside, but is spacious and has a worn but warm feel. Expect the staff to expect you to speak Russian, though ordering by pointing at the menu is easy enough.

The main attraction is the floor show. The Thursday night performance featured seven acts, including a trio of women dancing in what I would guess are traditional Russian outfits, in skimpy sailor uniforms, in Central Asian costumes and to what The Cellar Rat described as “sexy music.”

The highlight: a pole dancer that defined the word athleticism. She easily whipped up the four-meter pole and spun sideways, upside down, with both hands, with one hand, with no hands, and with neither hands nor feet (okay, I made that last one up). Several patrons pulled groin muscles just watching this. Notably, she did it while wearing a slinky dress and a G-string. I am not mocking: such skill is humbling for someone who failed the rope-climbing test in physical education class in high school. By the way, it was nice to see the manager, who seemed a model of efficiency, sit down with the performers for some post-show victuals.

We next headed for the glamour of Hollywood, which I suppose one could describe as a somewhat drabber Russian Maggies. This is a spacious spot with a large four-sided bar in the center, around which foreign men sit with beers and decide whether or not to make contact with the ladies. Take it or leave it, depending on how you swing (we left). By the way, the male toilet attendees try to provide shoulder massages at the sink for tips. Sidestepping them is not easy.

Accompanied by a T shirt-wearing tourist named Bob we met at Hollywood, we made the last stop Maggies. Packed to the rafters and offering decent music, plenty of people-watching opportunities and the famous hot dog cart out front, Maggies was, well, Maggies.

One of the joys at Maggies, especially the old one, is watching Mongolian women casually dispose of hyper-competitive men on the pool table. A vivid example is the guy heavily chalking his cue on every shot, agonizingly checking angles, winding up a dozen times and then sorely missing, followed by his Mongolian opponent draining balls left and right while showing as much apparent interest as she might in checking her nails.

By the way, next time you visit Maggies, take some time out from staring down tops and gaze skyward. This is a lovely building with a high stucco ceiling crossed by colorfully decorated beams normally associated with traditional Chinese architecture. A small bit of reflection on the past might trigger some on the future and prevent soon-to-be-regretted alcohol-fueled decisions you are about to make. Trust me, one hot dog, not two, is enough.

The entrance at Maggies has been moved so you now enter on the far side of the lengthy bar. But that is a minor change compared to what appears to be coming. Much of the front deck is blocked off for construction - steel beams rise three meters and suggest a major addition is in the works. No worries for the hungry, though, as the hot dog cart has simply been moved to the side.

Speaking of which, on Sanlitun’s main north strip, Swing, which I understand is linked in some way or another to Maggies, has added a hotdog cart - it’s 25 kuai per cartlidge.

After a lull in The Land Down Under, wine guru Sir Campbell Thompson is back in Beijing for good. I met him on Saturday night for a lengthy tour of the local sights. Some random observations:

Block 8: The third-floor bar - I-Ultra Lounge - reminds me of a super-sized Centro. We headed to the rooftop bar, The Beach, where lounge areas surrounded by sand sit amid a network of elevated walkways. You’ll fork out 2000 kuai for one such spot and up to 5000 kuai for premium spaces. The only free seating - or free standing, given there were no chairs - was at a large round bar in the far corner. The place seemed somewhat soulless - maybe it was the too-slick design, lack of greenery, the nasty night pollution or the fact we were the only patrons - so to be fair another visit is in order, especially since several readers have praised this place, although usually in relation to the eye candy they say patronizes it.

In any case, given the beach theme, you might expect Margaritas and Pina Coladas on the menu. They aren’t. 42 Below vodka and Tanqueray gin are, but were out of stock, so we settled for Bombay Sapphire GTs at 55 kuai. I suppose the price was worth it given the spectacle of a bartender twisting the base of a tonic can into his hand, thus forming a vacuum and allowing him to pour the mixer without using his fingers (try it at home, it’s surprisingly easy). By the way, best to book a table at The Beach - as we left the staff told us that every spot had been reserved for the night.

Suzie Wong: The third-floor area has been redecorated since my last visit and reaching the deck now requires a trip through the back end of the dance floor, but other than that, it was the same old Suzie. We parked on the deck and enjoyed bottled Stella as the place steadily filled with a most diverse crowd - a woman anxiously sitting alone (let’s hope the guy showed up), several groups of local friends, a man out cold on a bench, the usual gaggle of older expat male-younger Chinese female couples, and so on. I’ve never been a big fan of Suzie Wong in general, but I’ve always liked the deck - earthy, nicely lit and seeming as though it’s cut off from the city.

Q Bar: This night saw a light crowd, and while the music is too loud inside, the place does have its compensations - the Q Bar team is well-trained and the drinks are good. Sir C had a Lychee Margarita and engaged co-owner Echo in a discussion as to whether there should be salt (as he likes) or sugar (as many customers prefer) on the rim. I had a Horse Neck, a pleasant drink with Bourbon, ginger ale, and a long curl of lemon peel. Just before we left, a guy walked up and ordered ten Jagermeister shots. Sir C sternly described this as a blasphemous request in such a cocktail heaven and nearly beat him to death with a mint masher (just kidding). By the way, Q Bar’s collection of single malts continues to grow.

The Rickshaw: A rugby had just ended and the place was packed with Aussies and Kiwis - Sir C, being a member of the former tribe, knew half the people there. It was Stella yet again.

China Doll: The second floor seethed with dancers. We struggled to the bar and decided on hydration - the fruity Ai Wan Jamaica. The patrons to our left were most happy and eclectic - one wore a suit, thick dark-rimmed glasses and a foamy farmer’s hat, another had a sleeveless T-shirt and Scott Baio aura, and so on. Celebration was in the air and we speculated about a newly signed joint venture, hopefully one that will produce some kind of vacuum to suck coal particles from the air in summer andGobi sand in the winter - the latter can be used to replenish The Beach. People-watching at its finest…

Cheers: This place was also hopping, to live music. Even better, Sir C - who used to play in a band - knew one of the musicians, a guy from Madagascar. I’m not sure what they talked about it, but perhaps it concerned their two countries containing at least half of the world’s weirdest creatures.

Maggies: This place was even more packed than China Doll, with men far outnumbering the women - the horror! My advice to these guys: why not just go to China Doll to meet the opposite sex? We parked outside and watched people pass while Sir C enjoyed one of Maggies most excellent hotdogs. By the way, you know a guy is drunk beyond redemption if he squints at me to see if I might be a potential “short-term” female companion. Realizing that being packed like sardines in a can with hundreds of other guys wasn’t our thing, we decided against going inside and instead bid farewell and called a close to a busy but fun night…

This is the follow up post to Browns: Love It…

No bar gets more hate than Browns (except Bar Blu, but that place deserves it*, and Maggies). Here’s a self-interview that seeks insights into the animosity**:

Who hates Browns?

Many British people: apparently, Browns reminds them of pubs (including one called Wetherspoon’s) back on the island(s). Fair enough.

Anyone else?

One observer typifies Browns haters as those who “prefer to sit on old stinky beds (known as opium den-style furnishings), smoke hookahs, sip Mojitos and make what they consider devastatingly insightful observations - ‘What’s happening to China ’s youth has parallels in The Outsiders and Trainspotting.’”

Not all Browns haters fit this category. Some find the place disgustingly low-rent and prefer 49-kuai pints of Carlsberg at elite spots such as Face. Others like the predictable corporate nature of hotel bars such as Centro. Still others consider themselves “cutting edge,” aligned to a fringe music, art or cultural scene that, by definition, requires the rejection of Browns. Finally, a number work for the city’s English-language lifestyle magazines and seemingly were required to swear an oath to scorn anything their readers enjoy.

Why do they hate Browns?

You can’t pretend to be an intellectual, kick back and act like a colonial master, or feel cutting-edge - if you hang at Browns. As M-Dawg put it in an instant message, “Browns is real life. It’s the Grand Central Station of bars. No pretensions, utilitarian, everyone uses it from the businessman and the cultural elite to English teachers and the slightly insane.”

I also think some people hate Browns because they are afraid to dance in public.

Dancing?

Yes, people frequently dance on the bar top at Browns. It’s the often vain and cheesy public equivalent of displaying your singing skill at karaoke.

Isn’t Browns a meat market?

If it is, then places such as Bar Blu, Vics and Suzie Wong are full-on abattoirs. Some people do go to Browns to pick up, but most go with friends, employees, co-workers or students, and represent nearly every nationality, age group and profession.

Does Browns have hookahs?

No. If it did, then those who hate the place would give them up and turn to something else - Chivas and yak’s milk, perhaps. Management isn’t that cruel.

So what does it have?

It has good wings, a decent draft beer selection, high ceilings that disperse smoke, bar and lounge seating, a coat check. It’s close to Q Bar, Bookworm and Tongli Studios. At times, it can feel slightly sleazy and/or dismal, but usually it is fun if you are with a group of friends. Regulars who resemble Steven Segal, Scarlett Johannsson and Kim Jong-Il offer tremendous unintentional comedy.

What would be an example of poetic justice?

If Browns closed up shop and its patrons immediately headed to those bars that the haters frequent. Even better if the patrons arrived in tank tops and baseball hats, and upon entering said “yo.”

Yo?

Yo!

Notes:

* Kidding

** I know at least five people who will think this post is about them. It’s not; it’s based on about 20 comments over the past year.

John Bull Pub has officially closed and will reopen as Tim’s Texas BBQ in late October. Sequoia Cafe next door remains open. / The show is over for Icehouse’s live blues experiment. The Wangfujing bar brought in Chicago musicians but not enough Beijing patrons and will soon split duties as home to the Courtyard Gallery and host of Chopschticks comedy nights, Beijing Cheese Society gatherings, wine tastings and weekend bands. / Speaking of double duty, Phil of Phil’s Pub not only owns a Beijing bar, but also manages Q Bar in Qingdao’s Shangri-La Hotel. Pay him a visit if you travel to our beer-loving sister city to the south. / Last Saturday night, 1:30 AM, Rui Fu: empty. I don’t mean just a few patrons, I mean zero. Last Saturday night, 1:45 AM, Maggie’s: busy. What does it mean? / Pipes (plural), known as a retreat for women who love women, now goes by Pipe (singular). If the new sign is any indication, Coors (singular or plural?) is the sponsor. My only visit to Pipe(s) was with M-Dawg last year and lasted an awkward ten minutes. / I visited The Press Club in the St. Regis Hotel twice this past month and found the staff pleasant and the cocktails above average - they should be at 70 kuai per martini. / Smallville, Shunyi’s newest spot, will open on October 21 with free cinnamon rolls, a silent auction of comic book posters, and the Instant Noodles jazz band (8046-5448; beside Yard Restaurant). This spot also boasts butter tarts, my kryptonite of foods, that substance to which I have no resistance. Midnight drew major cocktail-loving crowds before the management and bartenders fell out earlier this year. The bar is virtually empty these days, but hope springs eternal and a “pure-hearted invitation” posted in the window seeks a foreigner with bar experience and contacts with local social groups. / Over the last few successive issues, I have written about how my all-time favorite Beijing bar First Cafe went from closing to being chai’d to being site of a garden. The latest: The garden is gone and replaced by a pile of dirt fronted by a three-meter high fence. Is nothing sacred?

Email: “Your beer gut must be even bigger than mine the amount of guzzling you must do in the interests of research. You should know that a hoary old favourite, John Bull Pub, will soon change its name and its style to Tim’s Texas Barbecue. [Owner] Frank [Siegel] is going to concentrate on his two (maybe more soon) Sequoia coffee houses. Sad, but inevitable.” - M.T.