Jess C.
Yelp
There is a small corner in my father's front yard that has struggled to grow anything for a number of (undisclosed) years. This is the corner where gin and I ended our fledgling friendship rather spectacularly on my eighteenth birthday. Needless to say, gin and I are no longer on speaking terms, so Bar Americano and I were going to start out on the wrong foot from the very beginning. Nevertheless, I had been wanting to visit Bar Americano for quite some time (not in the least because of the positive reviews here). I wanted to like this bar so very much - I do adore its decor and style, and the Tabacchi sign above the door made me ache for my misspent youth in Italy - but my falling out with gin and my wariness of rum (unlike the wall of silence between me and gin, rum and I talk occasionally and get on reasonably well, when we are both in the mood) make this difficult.
Thanks to a shoe-related wardrobe malfunction, I arrived flustered and late to meet a couple of friends who had been there long enough to have had a less than pleasant encounter with the bartender who had responded to a vodka-based drink request with a snarky comment about not being the kind of place where you come to get drunk. This was a really rude thing to say, as there is nothing about my friends to suggest that they were drunk-seeking rabble-rousers, nor does drinking vodka necessarily signify that you are out to get blotto. Vodka has its own flavours and complexities - just ask the staff at Borsch, Vodka and Tears!
A second bartender served me, and he was much friendlier about the whole situation, explaining their their selection is based upon a classic cocktail list. He was reasonably helpful about my aversions to alcohols that provide the basis for the vast majority of their drinks at the same time he wasn't providing any clear solutions for my thirst issue. Personally I like a little down time with a detailed menu as it makes me less flustered (reading is soothing), but, hey, kudos for the personal touch.
I understand and appreciate what this bar is trying to do, but I've never really been a fan of the kind of places where I need to be schooled in a special brand of etiquette or a secret code before going.* I was expecting chilled out quirk in a delightfully cramped space; what I got was frustrated in a delightfully cramped space.
Being a sucker for punishment, I probably will try come here again sometime, but probably when it is quiet and I can have a longer chat to the bartender (the nice little one, not the mean one) about their drinks list.
*That being said, my frustrations here will probably serve as your schooling for the etiquette and code before you go.