Two weeks ago yesterday, Hachiroku’s empire of local Japanese restobars gained its fourth outpost in three years: 116 Cocktail Bar by Hachiroku. Customers of the address’s former tenant, 116 Crown, a cocktail bar opened in 2007 that singlehandedly revived the format in New Haven, will find the same stylish atmosphere they already know, from the dark metal doors outside to the glowing onyx bar inside. The only notable decor change I spotted concerns the modernist bottle shelves, where a line of Japanese spirits now stands decisively in front of the rest—a visual metaphor for the cocktail menu, whose dozen debut options highlight Japanese elements.
My first order, the vodka-based Just Peachy ($15), arrived over a soundtrack of slinky lounge music, with an orb of ice peaking out like a frog from the pale gold drink. A vivid scent brought me back to the canned peaches I’d forgotten from elementary school, affirmed when a bartender explained that one of the ingredients here, the Wakamomo peach—a baby mountain variety from Japan—is similarly cured in a sugary syrup.
To taste, however, that note sat in the back of the class, with other ingredients more eager to catch the teacher’s attention. First it was the lemon juice, too eager, then the pineapple juice, the peach soy yogurt and, finally, the Japanese vodka. Maybe it was the expectation set by the name (and the inclusion of yogurt), but I would’ve liked a sweeter, creamier, less acidic experience overall. A garnish of one of the soft-eating Wakamomos was a juicy, exotic delight, offering flavors of peach, pear and white grape even while looking like a large green olive.
By this time I had also ordered some ‘real’ food: the Edamame Peperonchino ($7). Earthy, spicy, briny and nutty, with a mysterious balsamic sweetness and added texture from bits of chili and garlic, the dish was delicate yet unfussy given the way you have to extract the beans from their pods. I could’ve eaten it all day.
I had come for the cocktails, though, and felt like my next choice had to be the Yuzu Sesame Old Fashioned ($16), mostly because it sounded insane. Subbing in a light and floral Japanese whiskey for the classic recipe’s much sweeter and sturdier bourbon—plus black sesame, Mizunara bitters and yuzu sake for the usual sugar cube, Angostura and orange twist—it was a really big swing to take on a curveball, and I guess I needed to see if it would connect.
Sadly, while I could taste some of the edge notes of an Old Fashioned, this mad science experiment produced something irretrievably altered, losing more in richness than it gained in brightness. The sesame, which at first had come through beautifully on the nose, all but disappeared in the drinking, and the citrus element was all too bitter. Like the Just Peachy, the drinking experience did mellow along the way, and the presentation was beautiful and clean. But I’d still much rather drink an old-fashioned Old Fashioned.
By this point the alcohol was going to my head, which brought me back to the food menu, where a bartender approved of the Yamitsuki Cabbage ($9). “Yamitsuki” means “highly addictive,” he said (and the internet has since confirmed it), so I knew to expect something flavorful and satisfying. I didn’t know to expect a cold dish of fresh cabbage, not grilled or sauteed. Nonetheless, it was nicely umami-fied, with threads of salted kelp conjuring a textural fabric of noodles and a coating of chili oil sewing in a lace of spicy heat.
Finding that the eating had once again outmatched the drinking, I went back for another cocktail, hoping for a strong finish. I found an ironic one in the Fresh Start ($15), whose ingredients of ginger, lime and wasabi-infused rum combined for a wake-up call that was cool but spicy and clean yet tart. It was easily my favorite drink of the night—and a reminder to cut a place so new it’s still got recipe sheets on the back bar a little slack.
Written and photographed by Dan Mims.
