Anise, Devonshire Square, City

Anyone looking to identify cultural differences between Americans and Brits need look no further than their drinking habits.

Anise

9 Devonshire SquareLondon EC2M 4YL

020 7626 5000

http://www.cinnamon-kitchen.com/anise.aspx

Whereas Americans, and particularly Californians, see hotel bars as a viable drinking option (and in some cases, an aspirational one), Brits tend to view them as a pre-dinner or night-cap option. Perfectly adequate, but not the type of place around which you would base your evening.
I’m not sure what either culture makes of bars attached to restaurants, but one place that seems to have the formula right is Anise in Devonshire Square, near Liverpool Street station. Situated in the old East India Company building, Anise is a sister establishment to the Cinnamon Club in Westminster - that much-loved restaurant of politicians and aging celebrities.

The bar itself is completely separate to the Cinnamon Kitchen (turn left at the entrance rather then right) and is a surprisingly large, modern industrial space with a square bar at the centre and gray sofas on the perimeter. With dimmed lighting, lashings of blacks and purple, and romantic candles thrown into the mix, Anise can seem more nightclub then bar, a feeling they are happy to reinforce with the requisite DJ, decks and That’s What I Call Music soundtrack. Outside there is the added bonus of a large courtyard, perfect for those long summer evenings.
On the drinks and nibbles front, Anise draws on its Indian heritage and offers an Asian twist on cocktails - the Cinnamon Bellini, Saffron Martini and Anise Gibson are some of their better interpretations of classics (although personally, I think the spiced Kir Royal with green chillies is a step too far). Spicy sausages, duck spring rolls, and home made tapioca crisps are the stand-out items on the snacks menu.

Yet the big draw card for this bar is not the Michelin-star-style appetisers or the school-disco ambiance that takes over the place early evening, but rather the 2-for-1 happy hour on all drinks. It sends the local credit-crunched office workers into a drinking frenzy. To their credit, the efficient and very charming bar staff serve your drinks quickly and without fuss, unlike their attention-seeking counterparts at nearby Be-at-One in Spitalfields. And if you’re organised, you can book a space that comes complete with a hostess who makes sure your drinks and nibbles are delivered to your table. No need to even stand up.

So what’s not to like about it? Despite its location, the quality of its 'product', and admirable aspirations, the bar lacks an identity. It’s not quiet enough to be romantic, but probably not energetic enough to be an outright party bar. In a nutshell, Anise feels safe and reliable. Like a hotel bar.

All Bar One, Bishopsgate

Has it really been 15 years since All Bar One first opened its doors on an unsuspecting London public? And ten years since it last opened a new bar?

The ABO chain has been criticised by many over the years (this writer included) for applying its Starbucks-like model to one of things that British most cherish - drinking. However, it would be churlish to give not these bars credit where it’s due. For a start, I’m sure that ABO pioneered the way for 'women friendly' pubs. They were the first bar chain to offer a comprehensive range of top quality wine by the glass and free tap water in a British brasserie-style setting across London. ABO offered a clean, safe environment that was pitched at and appealed to lunching professionals and after-work City drinkers alike. OK, the brasserie claim might be stretching it, but I think its easy to take for granted the contribution that ABO has made to London drinking.
These thoughts crossed my mind as I entered the most recent addition to the ABO empire on Bishopsgate. On what was once the site of the Sir Paul Pindar - arguably the worst pub in the vicinity of Liverpool Street Station - is now a state of the art gastropub for the noughties. Set over two levels, the bar’s interior is stainless steel mixed with pine, framed by an open kitchen and a floor-to-ceiling cast iron wine rack (although library is probably a better way of describing it given the number of bottles on display). The top floor houses a more formal seated dining room, while the ground floor is your traditional All Bar One mix of tables with limited standing area.

The pitch, which the PRs were so happy to describe to me, is to continue the ABO tradition of targeting women, but with a reinvigorated menu that includes specialities such as Cottage Pie spiced with cinnamon, clove and cardamom, and griddled vegetable risotto with parmesan and Asian style pesto. I opted for a Moroccan style lamb flatbread which, whilst not being genuinely Middle-Eastern, was tasty enough, and a delicious (and very large) glass of Brazilian Pinot Gris.
The crowd are what you would expect given the location and setting - suited and booted City workers - but despite still being glisteningly new, the bar had a buzzing ambiance, the likes of which I don’t normally associate with this chain.
This bar won’t appeal to hipsters or traditional pub types, but that’s not what this place is about. What All Bar One Bishopsgate does, and will continue to do, is to offer good quality food and great wine - while probably becoming the chain bar of choice among the stiff competition around Liverpool Street Station.
It makes you wonder why it took them so long to open up here in the first place.

The Queen of Hoxton, Shoreditch

For those of you who don’t know London, there is a small but clearly-defined border between the suit-wearing financial district that is the City, and the style-leading triumvirate of all things cool - Shoreditch, Hoxton and Clerkenwell.

In bar world, this means a transition from wine bar chain heavyweights, such as Corney and Barrow and Jamie’s, to a land of independent boozers and cocktail bars where suits are not allowed.
Standing on the cusp of both worlds is The Queen of Hoxton, voted by no less a blog then my own as Bar of the Year in 2009. Yet as of last year, this didn’t seem to translate into punters. In other words, it was quiet. Not dead, but never at capacity. What a difference a year makes, and I can now say that a combination of well-promoted DJs and the decision to make the previously 'party only' roof terrace available to all patrons has seen it shift to a standing-room-only/queue around the block sort of place.
So what’s the appeal? Well for a start, it has all the elements you associate with East End cool - art installations, photographic installations, fringe theatre and screenings. Stylistically, its urban industrial décor sits alongside a games room complete with table-football and pinball machines, while a cinema advertising board takes guard of the bar. The drinks are nothing extraordinary - your now-traditional offering of classic cocktails, American lagers (including Mexican and Argentinean) and New World wines. What we saw of the food was of the bar snack/canapé variety. But what marks the Queen as somewhere special is the combination of music - from electronic dance to '50s Americana - and the cool creatives that make its crowd everything you would expect from London’s fashion set. That is, young, beautiful, and very stylish.
The icing on this trend-defining cake is the roof terrace, which is as large as the one at nearby Shoreditch House, but without the pool and self-aware crowd. The English garden party design, with large bean bags, picnic tables and artificial 'grass', turns the place into a year round oasis of fun. Of course, being Shoreditch, there are some glitches. Why nobody has seen fit to place toilets on the roof terrace rather than forcing punters to schlep down not four, but five flights of stairs to the loo is an oversight (and a tad hazardous after a few drinks). Also, the roof terrace bar only offers three drinks - Becks lager, cider, and a version of a mojito. Not a glass of wine in sight. However, people who criticise the place for these failings are being picky, and dare I say it, a tad 'City'.
The Queen has plenty of people willing to forgo these hardships to indulge in its special mix of hedonism, so you might want to start queuing early.

A weekend in Edinburgh ...

Staycations became the must-have holiday for credit-crunched city workers in 2009 and the trend shows no sign of dying as we enter the second half of 2010 (something that may satisfy and alarm our coalition government in equal measures).

Always ones to milk a trend for all its worth, my erstwhile partner-in-crime (the Northerner) and I decided visit Edinburgh for a summer break. It wasn't quite the oxymoron it might sound. OK, so the city did not have the sub-tropical heat wave that has swept London this summer, but it certainly offered enough to keep us entertained over a long and indulgent weekend. And best of all, not a ginger wig or kilt in sight. Well, not many, anyway.

Mal’s place
We stayed at the Malmaison in the Port of Leith, a couple of miles from the centre of Edinburgh. I’m a longtime fan of these purveyors of boutique hotel excellence, and the Scottish capital’s version did not let me down. Set in the former seaman’s mission, the architectural excellence of the building - supported by its high quality service, food and wine - allows you to forget the somewhat dated interior design template that the Mals seem so fond of. (Think late nineties/early noughties blacks and purple). As we were there during the weekend of the British Open, the place was full of middle-aged and well-heeled golfing buffs, plus a small smattering of hen weekenders. Not ones to shy from the fray, the Northerner and I sampled the various hotel offerings, and were partial to breakfast, the odd coffee and drink at the bar, and room service. (Why should it be that in all my years of four- and five-star hotels, this is the first time that the starter and main have been sent up in the order you’d expect in a restaurant rather then at the same time?) We were after a little bit of luxury just outside the centre of the city, and the Mal delivered.

Tigers and Swedes
Drinking north of the border need not be a whiskey-centric affair, and over several nights we were fortunate to find bars that catered for all shapes and sizes. A Thursday night out with work colleagues whetted the appetite with some of the more glamorous bars that Edinburgh has to offer. We spent a good few hours at Tiger Lily’s, a bar which attracts Edinburgh’s young and the beautiful and is more Mayfair then Soho (i.e. a crowd that's more professional than creative). But it’s a vibrant bar with an Ibiza lounge soundtrack, and better still if you move beyond the front bar - which effectively is just an adjunct to the reception - to the cocktail bar in the rear. A warning though: a few of the gang sampled their signature drink, a potent blend of vanilla vodka, single malt whisky, rose petal liqueur and soda. It looked and tasted as delicious as it sounds, however given the state of their heads the next day, I’d suggest restricting yourself to one. Two at a push.

At the other extreme in terms of style and location is Sofi’s in Leith, which the Northerner and I visited on the Saturday night. Sofi’s is apparently one of four Swedish bars in Edinburgh, and while it didn’t remind me of anywhere I have been in Scandinavia, the splashes of pastel yellows and blues and offerings of Swedish food and lagers does go someway towards living the theme. Eclectic interiors with fairy lights, personal photos and the de rigueur art installations are complemented by a jazz funk soundtrack, and too cool-for-school local artists, designers and students who were (as with everyone North of the border) reassuringly friendly. The eclecticism extends through its theme nights, from Champagne Sunday to Film night Monday to Knitting night Tuesday. I was assured that the rest of the week is dedicated to serious drinking. The Northerner and I debated whether this bar would look more at home in Dalston or Manchester’s Northern Quarter before deciding to give Edinburgh due credit and declaring Leith a bar and restaurant destination in its own right.

Say No to Mars Bars
Dining in Scotland is not the deep-fried mars bars experience that legend suggests, although I’m assured that these delicacies can be found for those with a more inquisitive palate. For the rest of us who like a food of an entirely different (read: better) quality, the Northerner and I found plenty of options. Foodies need look no further then the regenerated Leith docks for a range of seafood, and British, Asian and Middle-Eastern restaurants and cafes. Seafood lovers like the Northerner and I took advantage of two local favourites. The Shore on Leith Walk is more gastro than pub, and does a superb line in fish and shellfish plus the more traditional meat dishes - the wood pigeon, pork belly and racks of lamb on other diners’ plates certainly looked appetising. We went for the fish-fest option of poached salmon and fish pie, washed down with a glass or two of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. Simple, warm, and delicious. Just like the place.

Café Fish a little further up the hill is an altogether more fashionable affair. All stainless steel and white interior, the restaurant gets more urban points for its exposed brickwork and fittings. What might sound clinical and cold is anything but, as the friendly staff serve up an excellent seafood-oriented menu with an extensive wine and champagne list. Menu highlights for us included the Stornoway black pudding goat’s cheese and caramelised onions for starters, and spiced Atlantic cod and grilled lemon sole mains. Café Fish gave us an elegant dining experience which didn’t bruise the wallet.

Something that summed up our entire weekend north of the border.

The Electricity Showrooms, Hoxton

Those of us who are old enough to remember getting drunk in the nineties (which happened to be my friends and me on this particular evening) remember a very different Electricity Showrooms.

This bar is what it says on the tin - it is located in a refurbished showroom at where folks once shopped for toasters, Hoovers and the like. However the venue that we old-timers remember was rather different. All black leather furnishings and those ridiculously uncomfortable cubed seats. Nowadays it’s been reworked and re-branded, resulting in it looking like, well...a pub. In fact the Showrooms takes you back to a different nineties look popularised by the now legendary Eagle of Farringdon with its distressed leather sofas, wooden tables, and mix and match of school chairs - modern retro if you like. And all the better for it.

The crowd, despite being only half a stumbling mile away from the City of London, is Shoreditch/Hoxton cool - if that’s not an oxymoron nowadays. The Showrooms pulls the requisite crowd of designers, artists, and entrepreneurs split equally amongst men and women that tick all the requisite boxes in the 'my bar is fashionable' survey. It also does a pretty good range of top quality beers, wines and spirits but, as was firmly emphasised to me by one trendy young thing serving drinks, no cocktails. And apparently it also does darts and billiards and serves pie and mash. It’s almost like it's trying to be liked.

Which it really doesn’t need to, as with a pumping music mix, laid back ambiance, and some beautiful 20s and 30s fittings, the place is great. The Electricity Showrooms also makes a foray into the cheesy nightclub space, if the music emanating from the downstairs bar was anything to go by.

So this bar has something for everyone, which is obvious when you see how busy the place gets. 'Retro is dead' according to a car ad that is currently running. Perhaps, but the Showrooms prove that if you do it well it never goes away, although I’m not in any hurry for those cubed seats to make a comeback.

Giant Robot in Clerkenwell

For those of us brought up on a diet of 1950s Hollywood movies, the diner remains a powerful symbol of all things American. These shimmering stainless steel eating houses have made menu staples such as pancakes, French toast and grits, and bottomless cups of coffee as familiar to us as the traditional full English. By name at least.
Though London has recently become awash with diner-style eateries, there are not many as fresh as Giant Robot in Clerkenwell - the latest offering from the Rushmore Group, which brought us Milk & Honey, the Player, and the recently departed East Rooms.As you would expect from this team, Giant Robot is a good looking place. Dark brown dominates the interior from the oak floors to the diner style tables with leather booth seating, through to the exposed brickwork and rusted iron girders. This effect continues up to the ceiling itself, which is held together by an embossed sheet of cast iron. Restored radiators and antique light fixtures complete the effect. The kitchen and bar are distinguished by the white brick tiles, and colour is dropped in through the pastel yellow and blue plastic chairs, and the countless '50s and '60s fittings dotted around the place. Not exactly a diner in the traditional sense, but very easy on the eye.The staff are charming, attractive and plentiful. They literally fight over who gets to service you, which is good for those of us with status issues. They are a little too enthusiastic sometimes, as part-finished plates, and not quite empty glasses of wine had a habit of being cleared a too soon. They’ll learn.The food is an Italian take on tapas, which in reality means small portions of family favourites. Meatballs, pasta and sliders (meatballs in a bun) are on the menu, but the real star is the Giant Prawns, which were huge and apparently flavoursome. One for next time. It isn’t cheap, and some of the portions are a tad on the small side. Being served mains before starters was unusual, but not surprising given the organised chaos that the waiting team seemed to generate.The cocktails are strong and American super-sized - a dark rum-based punch and a whisky sour were the standouts on the night for us. The architects, graphic design and media crowd give the bar the cerebral, fashionable ambiance that we have come to expect from the Rushmore group, and music plays a support role to the alcohol-induced chatter that became shouting as the night rolled on.You won’t find the Happy Days experience at Giant Robot, but you will find a glamorous take on an American classic. And you may, just may be a little hung-over the next day.

Socio Rehab, Manchester

Anyone who says its grim up North has clearly not been to Manchester. Several decades of regeneration and reinvigoration inspired by the music, gay and student scenes respectively have, given it a social diversity and energy better then anywhere in the UK outside of London. And I don't mean that in a patronising way. But having been to Manchester many times in the last few years (to visit the Three Amigos - more of which later) both the Northerner and I have been struck at how much better and how many more top quality bars and pubs there are. Or perhaps that's because we're late in discovering them.

For our last few visits the Amigos have been taking us to Manchester's Northern Quarter - the 'creative quarter' of Manchester and home of many fashion designers, creative agencies, art galleries and quirky retailers. In this vibrant and lively part of the city, several blocks of former offices have been transformed into bars and restaurants as a sort of Hoxton of the North - and arguably much better.

Last weekend they introduced us to Socio Rehab - the reining champion of Manchester's cocktail bars and according to Amigo 1, home to some very good looking barman. On the corner of Edge and High street the bar's cool credentials are signaled early by the lack of signage. Large windows, low leather sofas and wooden flooring are offset by pastel blues and luscious purple walls. The places feels more advertising agency then bar, although any fears that you are in the wrong place are soon alleviated once you get a hold of the extensive cocktail menu.

No Long Island Ice Teas or Screaming Orgasms in this place. The cocktails are for people who know and enjoy a good drink. Amongst the ten or so that our crew consumed, the rum based David Banner and Big Hitters received top marks for the Amigos, as did another rum concoction - the Stingaree - and the vodka based Allo Poppet. Each a perfect combination of sweet and bitter flavours, and also seriously alcoholic. I took the unnecessary step of ordering a Midweek Roller which with its descriptor as being for the man who drinks during the week at the expense of his work and personal life seemed to sum me up in a glass. However the whisky, rum and vermouth based drink did more the hit the sides. One for the serious drinkers only.

The crowd are a mix of Manchester's hip and party crowd who manage to look fabulous but unlike their London counterparts don't take themselves too seriously. The music is a mix of modern indie, retro 80s and 90's rock, and a dash of dance, and for a small bar, the chat amongst the punters is loud. As all good Northern bars should be then. We didn't stay at this bar as long as I would have liked, as a dinner reservation needed to be honoured. However we did stay long enough to appreciate what a great little bar it is and mark it as a 'must visit again' for our next trip. Oh, and in case you were wondering, yes the bar men are very good looking.