Best Bar Experience of The Year
Behind the bar was Takuma Watanabe, founder of Martiny’s, and an experience of a lifetime.
The legend goes that our Native Spirit—before it even possessed a name, and generations before it was bestowed with a national moniker—sailed down on flatboats to New Orleans. Whiskey became synonymous with great city of the south, but flatboats did not. According to author Michael Veach, flatboats had no value as boats because they could not travel back upstream. However, these boats became sources of lumber and the oldest shotgun-style houses in New Orleans were built from those flatboats. The harvested wood transformed into reprieve and comfort.
After five days of incessant debauchery, we needed to be pardoned from the scenes of congested crowds with DJ’s bouncing music through our skulls, and bitter cocktails adhering both our hands. The final hours of Tales of The Cocktail were approaching, and it felt like dawn as our tired bodies slowly walked through the French Quarter, but it was the middle of the afternoon. We were in search of our own reprieve.
Our heavy legs eventually rested a couple floors above the drunken noise of the Quarter. Our arms rested atop of white linens in a spacious ballroom, with a just a few round tables and a silent piano. We devoured our glasses of sparkling water and nibbled on finger sandwiches that were accompanied by garlic pickles. The inevitable time came to order a cocktail from a prepared menu of highballs. What impeccable timing as a refreshing cocktail was mandatory.
Quiet, classic music eloquently blew through the white curtains of the tall windows. We gleefully laughed, almost in disillusion that we found rest from the chaos inside this New York bar’s popup. It felt like living in a mellow track of Explosions In The Sky, as servers in proper pressed shirts with suspenders and bowties, poured our drinks and waited on our every move. It was the picture of hospitality, and the experience would only continue after a highball and a sandwich or two.
In tiny groups, a server escorted us to another room. Down a short, narrow staircase awaited an open door to a speakeasy of sorts. Inside the secret room, stood a small bar with an invitation for guests to stand. Behind the bar was Takuma Watanabe, founder of Martiny’s, and an experience of a lifetime. Takuma greeted us and the ceremony commenced. With a homeopathic setup, he delicately crafted individual elixirs with surgeon-like precision. One by one, the aromatics poetically filled our senses, breathing life back into our tired souls. Smiles furnished our faces. Our hearts thanked our maestro without words. We took our finals sips, replenished and rescued, then, faded away like our eyes were wide shut.