’Tisn’t quite the season, objectively speaking. But ’tis the season on the rooftop bar at Gioia, where Christmas lights, Christmas wreaths, Christmas presents, Christmas nutcrackers and Christmas specials now deck the bar, and where I was recently inspired to embark on a little seasonal bar crawl.
The festive atmosphere had me eyeing the Hot Chocolate, a silky non-dairy take you can opt to spike with a spirit of your choice. I first tried the non-alcoholic version ($10), which filled Santa’s head, or rather a mug shaped like it, with sweet notes of caramel, fruit and fancy but approachable Valhrona chocolate.
Gioia’s “Our Way” Hot Chocolate option ($17), featuring a recommended spike of Faccio Brutto Centerbe (a Brooklyn-made botanical liqueur conceived as an alternative to Green Chartreuse), was served in Santa’s more cavernous belly, legs and feet. The spike supercharged the caramel, concentrated the fruit and sent up evergreen aromatics perfect for Christmas, all while adding a boozy tang and tingle confirming this version of a childhood favorite isn’t for kids. I liked that both mugs were served with a torched marshmallow garnish, though I wished the chocolate had been served closer to piping hot.
Like Santa on the big night, I had to move along. Searching for something more immediately seasonal, I found it at Heirloom, where the Heirloom Fall ($16) infuses spiced apple and cinnamon into Tennessee whiskey and simple syrup, respectively, and blends them with Fernet-Branca and lemon juice.
In the dim amber light, the pellet-iced liquid sure looked like apple pie filling. It sure smelled like it, too. On the palate, however, the acid of the lemon and the bitterness of the amaro had other things in mind, preventing the flavors from settling into the mellow, softly spiced, ooey-gooey cohesion I was suddenly craving. Then again, in doing so, the drink had delivered on the menu’s promise of a “citrusy” drink “with a bold herbal finish,” so I really shouldn’t complain. And I did enjoy those sharper qualities the more I got to know them.
My third and final stop of the night was the Caribbean-inspired cocktail bar Anchor Spa, where a careful appraisal of choices, each posed as a journey to an island, brought me to the Carnival Swizzle ($16). From a potent description of spiced rum, ginger liqueur, lime juice, curry mint syrup and two types of bitters (Angostura and Peychaud’s), it was the classic cold-season flavors of ginger, mint and rum spices (cinnamon, clove, nutmeg, vanilla) that drew me in.
Served in a classy etched highball, the drink was a pale orange, which proved to be prescient. A lithe and leafy stem of mint wound halfway around the glass, then laid across the rim as if it were a chaise lounge. Unable to nose with all that going on, I eagerly took a pull from the straw, observing a big Creamsicle note I can’t easily explain. Beneath it was a complex balance of tart, bitter, botanical notes I can. Explicable or not, together they were delicious. Cam, my excellent bartender, smiled and nodded knowingly when I blurted out the Creamsicle finding.
Did this final glass of alchemy capture my sense of the season? No, not really. Did it capture my heart? Yes, really.
Written and photographed by Dan Mims.
