Beijing Boyce

Yesterday, Chad Lager of the The Rickshaw took me on a tour of the new Saddle location in Nali Studios (more on this later)  and we then went on a walkabout that ended at Scandinavian restaurant and bar The Little Mermaid.

The Little Mermaid offers more than a dozen kinds of Akvavit, Schnapps and bitters, at RMB 15 for 20 centiliters. Dane Torben Vester, who runs the place with wife Celine, gave us a tasting of his homemade concoctions, including walnut Schnapps made with eight-year old walnut essence, another drink infused with 11 herbs, and one that tasted of licorice. He also has a homemade candy-flavored drink called Blaa Ugla, a dill Schnapps, and imported Gammel Dansk and Gammel Dansk Citrus, which he says, “is a bitters, the most well-known one in Denmark.”

Given his background, there is plenty of Carlsberg, and at reasonable prices, too. Draft is RMB 20 for 500 ML and RMB 40 for 1.25 liter, with bottles costing RMB 25.

The Little Mermaid has food, too. Torben says the herring, beef stroganoff, and the dark bread (made in-house) are most popular. Even better, he and Celine are experimenting with cheese, though it is not on the menu. We tried homemade Brie that had a nice gooey-ness, a decent rind and pungent aroma, though it was salty – Torben says this is because it isn’t dulled down with preservative as are many store-bought ones.

To get to The Little Mermaid, go north on Sanlitun, past the main bar strip and turn right at the corner directly across from the 3.3 building. Walk down that street past the first corner and you’ll find The Little Mermaid on your left.

According to an SMS going around town, The Saddle: Luga era – officially reopens this Saturday night with half-price drinks. This comes two weeks after the burrito and beer spot officially closed and just over a week after Luga, known best as the “hey” guy at the Saddle, Cox and The Rickshaw, apparently told the owners that he had grabbed the spot for himself (I went by The Saddle twice this past week to talk to Luga but the place has been closed both times).

This is one of the more intriguing recent stories in the bar scene and it will be interesting to see how things work out…

Expect for the guys behind The Saddle, Cox and The Rickshaw to soon have a new place open.

Halloween in the Beijing Boyce household brings out the swinger in some. Specifically, it is the only time each year that Zimbu – the plush monkey left behind in South Korea ten years ago by my friend Jen who left for Hamburg to get married and asked me to hang on to her collectible Beanie Baby as it is apparently climbing in value by 20 percent annually – gets out on the town. (Jen better figure in some depreciation on this little critter given the amount of beer, lipstick and sweat with which he’s been anointed over the past decade).

Anyhow, safely affixed to my shoulder, Zimbu made his first stop last Friday at the Altruistic Alcoholics bash at The Rickshaw, held to raise funds for migrant children. Manager Chad Lager and owner Kris Ryan dressed as Homer and Marge Simpson – Kris seems surprisingly comfortable in a strapless. The spot overflowed with party-goers who drank enough Halloween spirits that the charity took home over 4,000 kuai.

Kris and Chad: A scary couple…

The next stop for the monkey on the move was Mingle – a scary place given the wait staff / models dressed as sexy nurses, maids and, in one case, Pipi Longstocking (with the emphasis on stockings). By scary, I mean that having a randy monkey, even a plush one, among models brings a certain risk that only a half dozen double banana daiquiris can mitigate. Meanwhile, yours truly indulged in the Halloween cocktail, which sported two red hot peppers attached to the glass as horns. The devil is in the details, as they say. Most of the patrons dressed as Block 8 regulars – oh wait, those weren’t costumes.

Saturday night saw Zimbu riding shotgun on the shoulder again as we headed to Alfa to hang with Special K, whose costume was either that of a prep boy or the best-dressed man in Newfoundland. As rain pounded the roof of the enclosed deck, Zimbu engaged in small talk with various devils, angels, French maids, and whatnot. All in all, quite a tame weekend in comparison to the near-fight that ensued last Halloween at Rui Fu.

Fill this under “painful landings.”

The Saddle, which spun off Cox and The Rickshaw, held a raucous closing party last Friday – the landlord wanted more rent and the economics of the business no longer made sense, went the thinking.

The party marked the final day of the popular Margarita and burrito spot. Or did it?

According to management, ever-popular manager Luga, who split time between Saddle and The Rickshaw, informed them that he negotiated with the landlord on the side and is taking over the spot. Again, according to management, Luga plans to do burritos – he has poached The Saddle cook – and signed a lease for lower rent.

Ouch.

Expect to hear more on this one…

Saddle, the margarita and burrito spot that spun off Cox and The Rickshaw, bid farewell last night with a closing party that saw the bar’s fans turn up in droves. It also attracted the local police, whose interest lay not in enjoying the free Qingdao but in confiscating empty chairs and tables out front – unfortunately, after an initial four, there weren’t any to be had. The police parked their van out front, practically blocking the door, and appeared half-bored and half-annoyed. Which made me think – is dealing with the foreigners who habituate this area some kind of punishment?

Police chief: “Officer Lu, your performance has been substandard. We are transferring you to Sanlitun.”

Officer Lu [falling to the floor and clutching his head]: “Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

Anyway, numerous regulars and some of the original wait staff were on hand and, at least the short time I was there, had a great time. Look for the owners behind this spot to open elsewhere soon.

My constructive criticisms (some erroneously label them complaints) usually fall on deaf ears, but not so those of the woman who brought me kicking and screaming into the world and made my early years happy ones by including a shot of Johnnie Walker Blue in those baby bottles – just kidding, the Blue was off limits, I had to make due with the Black.

Her visit to our fair city a few months ago included trips to the Forbidden City, Summer Palace, Great Wall and, of course, The Rickshaw. At the latter, she declared the wings tasty but added that a much better experience would be had if only there were wetnaps with which to wipe that Buffalo sauce from one’s fingers. Mom spoke and The Rickshaw – in the true spirit of respecting one’s elders – listened.

The wings now come with wetnaps.

Thanks, Mom.

Expect more than a few people to mosey on down to The Saddle tomorrow as the place rides into the sunset. Skyrocketing rent appears to be the key culprit for this spot begun by Kris Ryan and Nick Ma that became known for its burritos and margaritas. It spun off Cox, which closed a few months back, and The Rickshaw, doing a thriving business.

What is to become of the Saddle? Given trends on the street, namely, the opening of four Pure Girl bars, this strip may soon see a quintuplet of chaste ladies.

Plan A: Sedate Saturday Night quickly became Plan B: Unscheduled Pub Crawl to Later Regret after I hooked up with Special K, Miss P and The Cellar Rat last weekend. I posted live about our stops to Hooters and The Den. Here’s how the rest of the night played out…

Q Bar: Twas bustling, but not uncomfortably crowded, although the music was too loud. To numb myself to it, I ordered an Alfonso Special. This drink’s advantage is its absence on the menu: this means one of the Q’s two bartenders extraordinaire, George and Echo, will get involved, apply their mixology skills and ensure a quality beverage.

Our crew started on the sofas but the arrival of numerous acquaintances required a move to the coveted “bed” section by the bar. The area is elevated, triangular and populated with a table and a dozen pillows. It also necessitates removing your shoes, something that I’m not keen about doing in public save for a few crucial places (a hot tub, for example).

A man is emasculated when revealing his socks. He faces the olfactory risk of sharing space with “bed sitters” who have less than satisfactory pedary hygiene. And in my case, sitting cross-legged or sidesaddle for an hour is as enjoyable as eyeball acupuncture (note to self: cut down on those carbs).

I sat next to a Shanghai-based photographer and we compared drinking holes in our two cites. The general conclusion: Shanghai wins on service and quality, while Beijing is earthier and, I argue, more fun due to a diverse expatriate population. (Case in point, our group included diplomats, journalists, businesspeople and NGO employees.)

Nanjie: Loud and crowded and hot and sweaty downstairs, so we headed for the balcony, which requires climbing through a second-floor window (there’s that Beijing earthiness). The balcony is relatively quiet, with great views of the street action, though I have a tip for management – the coniferous trees out there with razor-sharp needles don’t a fun bar experience make (except in the case of that very limited S&M niche).

By the time I removed a half-dozen barbs from my hand, Special K was talking to a young hyperactive Australian woman. Having established everyone’s nationalities, the woman became increasingly, uh, explicit with her opinions and questions. She informed us that she would only “defile” her body with alcohol and thought smoking to be utterly vile. She asked us in more graphic terms than I’ll share here if we’d had any gay – and I don’t mean happy – experiences. To be fair, she doubled my knowledge or orifice-related sexual terminology. (Again, can you get this in Shanghai? If so, can you get it for free?)

Having forsaken my mental note to go home after Q Bar, and acquiring a headache from trying to grasp the logistics of the acts this woman described, I decided to make my move (as Miss P had smartly done 20 minutes earlier):

“That’s it for me guys,” I said.
“One more drink,” said Special K.
“No, seriously, that’s it. I want to watch baseball tomorrow morning.”

This caused The Cellar Rat to bring out the secret weapon: “Hey, look at that place across the street, with the skull and crossbones above it. It’s new – you can write about it.”

True, a bar called Heat simmered there, although the “crossbones”, as Special K helpfully noted, looked more like four sets of crude male genitalia.

Here is a short review of Heat: We entered, we found a dance floor the size of Nanjie’s and holding a dozen people (most seemingly staggeringly drunk), we found a bar in back with a few patrons and we found a wait staff with an eager “please, just buy ONE drink” glint in their eyes. Before guilt overtook us, Special K and I caught The Cellar Rat mid-order and we hustled out. (Note: this doesn’t mean that Heat will not be popular, it’s just that it wasn’t hot on this night. It wasn’t cooking. It was on the back burner. It was… let’s just go on.)

We headed next door to Caribe, a cavernous club packed with gyrating and mostly fit bodies. We parked on the second floor and watched dancers of all shapes and sizes and nationalities sweat buckets. Occasionally, about two-thirds of them engaged in a kind of mass line dance.

Directly below a 75-year-old man with the foot speed of someone half his age showed his moves and drank Johnnie Walker Red on the rocks.

Ten feet away, a brunette and a blond competed for some guy on the dance floor. The blond grabbed and kissed him so hard I though she might suck out a lung. This caused the brunette to grab his buddy and do the same, in the hope, I guess, of inspiring jealousy. It didn’t happen, so the brunette interrupted the Hoover-like vacuum betwixt the couple under the pretext that they should all dance together.

This scene made me feel dirty all over. Or maybe it was because I hadn’t been home since 10 AM that morning, having gone seamlessly from working to partying.

“That’s it for me, guys,” I said.
“One more drink,” said Special K.

The man is evil, but they say you can do a deal with the devil (or is it vice versa?). So we made a compromise: we would go to Rickshaw, not to drink, but to eat and rehydrate.

With the England-France rugby game on, fans were flank to shank in the place, so we braved the cool and sat outside on the balcony. Special K mocked me for ordering apple juice or at least I think he did: it sounded something like “youse guys arnt reee-yall men. I’m ordrin’ beee-yeer.” A few minutes later came poetic justice – he began tearing up because the wings were “too hot”. And those were the medium ones…

Ah, a Beijing Saturday night…

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…

I love my K-Touch B922 phone – for one thing, the battery lasts a week – but if you’re planning to buy one make sure to lock it before putting it back pocket or you might (as I did last night) accidentally call a dozen people (apologies to all). I guess that underscored that my Taipei buddy E-Salt and I were on the move. Unlike the last time she came to town, and we ended up closing Maggies, we got a late start due to work and had a much lighter itinerary – three bars, three beers. A few notes:

Face: This is nook and cranny central, with a patio, bars and lots of lounge areas. Given the earthy yet upscale decor and the subdued lighting, I always expect to find a monk or two sipping tea or at least a nice Sauvignon Blanc. “This place is obviously trying to be trendy,” said E-Salt. “It has a nice garden but the way it’s lighted it looks like Christmas in summer.”

We stayed inside, where our fellow bar patrons included older feather-haired white men with much younger Chinese women, giving the place a Secretary’s Day feel. E-Salt opined that many of the remaining males would be more interested in hitting on me than her. The drinks are expensive – Hoegaarden draft is 60 kuai, Champagne cocktails are 115 kuai (and that’s for Moet) – but that’s the price you pay for décor, space, service and to keep Face in candles.

Nanjie: The opening party was crazy, but on this night attendance was light, the balcony being the exception. We grabbed a table outside and stuck to draft Hoegaarden – 30 kuai. Given the lack of residential space and the growing number of bars and restaurants in this area, the city would do well to cordon off the street out front from traffic, cobblestone it and create a pedestrian-friendly zone. E-Salt and I didn’t actually talk about that – we were too mesmerized by the cartoon hippo painted on the soon-to-open hip hop club across the street.

The Rickshaw: A good crowd upstairs as DJ Kris P. Cream controlled the tunes. No Hoegaarden, so we procured Stella for 35 kuai per pint and tagged on cheese sticks and an order of potato chips drenched in blue cheese. It’s hard to justify healthy eating when Beijing’s air pollution index is rapidly rising from 200 parts per million to, uh, 1,000,000 parts per million. I’m thinking we’ll make it in two years, so why not chain-smoke, eat artery-clogging food and generally live fast now, since the air will get us before lifestyle-related diseases do. Or maybe that’s just the Stella talking…

Anyway, despite the incredible free entertainment – a bunch of drunks were behind me, continually banging into my chair and providing memorable material, especially one young woman who kept (sincerely) saying, “I can be a penguin for you” (what does that mean!?) – we finished our beers and headed off into the murky night…

Wonder Bar has opened in the Tongli Studio space formerly occupied by Taniwha, thus reducing by one the number of Beijing nightspots decorated with a slab of polished corrugated metal. I’m sure we’ll get over it, especially as the new place represents a much-needed redesign, including a central bar area that nicely breaks up the space, a balcony on the far side that provides depth, and plenty of seating options, including stools, sofas, booths and a long bar.

Wonder Bar is dimly lit and decked out in deep red and black with touches of mirror and chrome, hardly surprising since the designer is Roger Houng and he used a similar formula with the former and highly popular cocktail bar, First Cafe. While Wonder Bar doesn’t fully capture the feeling of First Cafe – it is, after all, a squarish one-floor bar in Tongli as opposed to a narrow two-floor stand-alone bar – patrons will find enough similarities, especially if Roger and partner Kang Da fulfill their goal of providing good seating, good jazz and good drinks.

Oddly, this holiday break seems to have a First Cafe theme:
- Roger is back and has former First Cafe bartender Daniel mixing drinks at Wonder Bar;
- I visited Q Bar several times, where ex-First Cafe bartenders George and Echo are co-owners;
- I attended a birthday party at Opener?, which Roger helped design and that ex-First Cafe manager Keiko helped to get going;
- I made several Buffalo wing runs to The Rickshaw, where yet another ex-First Cafe bartender works and which was formerly Midnight Bar, run by George and Echo;
- I visited Cafe Pause, in Dashanzi, co-owned by Stefan Fleischer, yet another person I first met at First Cafe.

For a city of 15 million, sometimes this place feels like a small town…

Ya heard it here first…

Roger’s back.

Most cocktail lovers associate First Cafe, the former and my all-time favorite Beijing bar, with the popular bartenders, George and Echo. In fact, First Cafe began with Roger and Keiko, and the former has a strong bar background in Taipei.

While George and Echo went on to Q Bar and Keiko went on to Opener? (then Japan), I lost contact with Roger – until about 30 minutes ago in The Rickshaw. What a pleasant surprise to learn he’s taking over the so-far underwhelming Taniwha in Tongli Studios, where ex-First Cafe bartender Daniel has been toiling as a bartender.

The new spot will be called Wonder Bar and, says Roger, redesigned to be “a bar”, which means good seating, breaking up that all-too-open space with a circular bar in the middle to match the long bar inside the door, and playing good jazz. If they can cozy the spot up and get the First Cafe-level cocktails going, that’ll be a nice addition to the bar scene.

(Note: Roger expects to open the bar next week. I’ll have more details on the opening and the bar during the next few days.)

The all-male crowd seems to have abandoned Q Bar as its Thursday night watering hole. The place was lightly populated tonight (last night), which meant peace and quiet as I sipped my Horse Neck (Bourbon, ginger ale and lemon) and chatted with bartenders-owners George and Echo. The Q will add frozen dragon fruit margaritas to the menu tomorrow night (tonight), a drink Echo and I first made during my only foray behind the bar in Beijing, at a birthday party last year. They’ll go for 55 kuai.

I walked to Q from The Rickshaw, which opens tomorrow night (tonight). Patrons of the spot’s former bar, Midnight, are in for a surprise – co-owner Kris Ryan has stripped the place down, to the cement floor at some points, and replaced the unbearable heaviness of the sofas with light furniture and open space. With a pool table, several flat-panel TVs and a balcony that offers views up and down Sanlitun South, the place has a new vibe – an unpretentious spot that fits the BJ psyche.

In the pigeonhole game, The Rickshaw hints at The Den, The Goose and Duck, and, of course, COX and Saddle (same owners), with a splash of old Sanlitun South, though it quickly enough it’ll find its own identity. Qingdao draft is 15 kuai a pint (10 kuai during happy hour) and the kitchen will open soon, if not tomorrow night. Patrons now have a new spot to get COX-style wings and Saddle-style burritos, as well as mini pizzas, while avoiding Sanlitun North’s roving gangs of teenagers, beggars and substance sellers. That alone is reason enough for me to go; we’ll see if others feel the same. (For more on The Rickshaw, check out this interview of Kris.)

I dropped into The Rickshaw on my way home from Torres China’s tenth-anniversary celebration at the Ritz Carlton. The party was from 6 to 10 PM, and I managed to squeeze in at 9:52 PM – yep, it’s been one of those work weeks. That left enough time to chat with Torres North China GM Galia Stern (among the first people I met when I arrived in Beijing way back when), have a glass of wine, and meet Miguel Torres, who ranks among the world’s bigwigs of wine. Congratulations to Torres and good luck on the company’s anniversary party in Shanghai this weekend.