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Also this issue: Duty Calls Icepack |
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August 8-14, 2002
naked city
 Photo By: Michael T. Regan |
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Ever since Jerry Thomas, the 19th century’s most famous bartender, came up with the Blue Blazer -- the first warm whiskey drink to be ignited with a match and tossed back and forth between tumblers, to create an arc of fire never before witnessed among gentlemen and drunks -- blue has been the tone du jour of my nights out. Cobalt in particular sets an icy noir tone to my evenings; it evokes the heartache one equates with dire romance and rain-glossed Manhattan nights. I suggest Lambert, Hendricks & Ross’ “Blue”on the hi-fi for my most recent trip down indigo lane, to Bleu Martini and Liquid Blue.
Despite the recherché notion of having "martini" in their past or present names (Liquid used to be the Martini Bar), neither is old-hatted or even high-hatted. In fact, both fascinatingly quiet spaces (you can hear conversation), despite private areas and upcoming VIP locations, share an open camaraderie that doesn't exist in tonier spots.
With neon cobalt lettering and the silhouette of a tilted martini glass reflected onto pulled-tight metal blinds (doubly backlit by pools of blue) Bleu Martini has the quintessential American '40s feel -- a late-night two-room saloon in a mellow mood, or a sleek diner (serving fare like caramelized figs and lamb loin) with a designer drinking problem. Whether crevice or sluice, there's blue light poured forth: from neon piping onto pressed-tin ceilings and tiles of varying size; onto long black lacquer bars back-walled by mirrors and a wall of mottled copper; onto stained-wood walls leafed by handkerchief sconces and ceiling beams inlaid with simple halogen pin-spots.
Banquettes of varying size divide the rooms that will, by October, explode into the neighboring address' two floors; one of which, a basement VIP lounge with truly limited capacity, cushy couches, bottle bar service, cigar room and lockers, sounds like the physical manifestation of Roberta Flack's sexy classic "Blue Lights in the Basement."
Liquid Blue, in its own way, is already Flack-like in that it has that sexy den thing down in a spartan setting. Rimmed in blue with votive candles on its ledge, Liquid's front sets a mood of modern romance at one with its aquatic house sounds creeping through to the street. Its first long bar, lit from below like the hotel bar in The Shining, backed eerily by sheets of mylar, is somehow quiet, a deceptive ambience. This narrow walkway leads you to the dark midnight blue back room, where one of 611 Records' stalwarts spins blissed-out mellow house. On one side, several tall round tables are haloed by faux Picassos, Motherwells and Boteros and lit by antique wall lamps and tabletop candles; on the other, there's a cute screened-in lounge spot with plush couches and cut-glass tables perfect for late-night supping. Past that, a long black bar space has a high-ceilinged roomy feel (perfect for when name DJs like Miles Madea spin, requiring more dance floor) heightened in sensation by a narrow blue balcony. With its minimalist comfy love seats, cocktail tables and antique lamps, even Liquid Blue's balcony has a quietly dizzying basement-make-out vibe.
With these two dimly lit locations seeping cobalt cool, spinning low-toned sounds, offering late-night nibbles and generally hooking it up in the name of sultry vibes, blue, suddenly, isn't a bad way to be.
Bleu Martini, 24 S. Second St., 215-940-7900; Liquid Blue, 622 S. Sixth St., 215-351-9001.
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