Molly T.
Yelp
Want a good example for "quiet greatness"? Look no further than the Guthrie Inn. There's nothing fancy about this speakeasy-esque spot. There's very little in terms of decoration, dim lighting, only one bartender, and a menu that doesn't exactly scream "high end cocktail bar". But don't let all of that deceive you - this place is, wait for it, QUIETLY GREAT!
Came here on a Thursday night to find it quite empty. I went with a fellow cocktail nut, so when he recommended the Guthrie, I figured his word was good. We quickly got two seats at the bar and started quite the journey of a night.
We're both the type of person who loves to schmooze with bartenders. Not in a weird/stalky/creepy way, just out of general interest/curiosity. This guy, Francisco, was awesome. We talked all things Manhattan drinking culture. And eventually, after studying the menu for a few minutes, I participated in said culture. And though the menu doesn't stand out as being exceptional, the drinks were still close to top of the line.
I can't remember the name of the first drink I ordered, but if I'm remembering correctly, it had bourbon, amaretto, sweet vermouth and brown sugar in it. Thick and syrupy sweet. If the combo souds generally appealing to you but you're not into sugar rushes, our new friend Francisco recommends passing on the sweet vermouth, or just adding a little splash. BUT the star of the evening was the Sharpie Mustache. I remember the name because.....how could you forget a name like that? I was wary of ordering it because the base seemed so outlandish to me - gin and rye. I mean, I'm not saying I'm an expert mixologist or anything, but I would never think to combine those liquors in a cocktail. At least not if I'm intending on drinking it....
But our pal Francisco assured me that this drink was THE drink to get. He told us that he drank so many of them when he first started working at the Guthrie that he's sick of them at this point. I don't know how you could possibly get sick of this drink, but then again, I'm not a bartender. As the name suggests, this is SHARP. Like, eye-poppingly sharp. Like, I think my eyes actually did one of those cartoon-bulge type things.
Okay, I wouldn't be a good Yelper if I withheld one of the negatives. At one point, our new friend left. I'm not exactly sure where he went. And by our new friend, I mean the bartender. As in, the only person working there. So...be glad I'm not a klepto?
Lastly: We ended up befriending another lovely individual that night, who was none other than Francisco's girlfriend. You know when you have one of those nights that seems like one of those classic New York experiences? Thursday night was just that. Sometimes I forget that New Yorkers are not just balls of animosity that don't give a damn about anyone else but themselves - it's easy to get jaded here. The purpose of that little musing is to say that we befriended an awesome couple, and before the night was over, we did shots of Jack with them. Cheers, New York!