Under high chandelier bulbs dispersed and dimmed like the final fade of a firework, I was about to try The Luke’s “mini” cocktail flight ($19)—and to learn that it’s not so mini. I was also about to learn, from veteran bartender Chelsea Downing, that the flight is a dealer’s-choice arrangement. And that worked for me, as I get a thrill from letting the cocktail gods—or, in this case, goddess—decide.
Following a brisk flurry of blending, shaking and stirring by Downing, I started, from the left, with the Anjou Pear Martini, whose quartzy visage turned matte gold in the back bar’s light. A lemon twist led on the nose, with the pear trailing softly behind. To taste, the pear stepped forward, pulling even with the citrus, though I wouldn’t have complained if it’d been more assertive. The minty anise note of the Thai basil sewed them together, as the vodka blended seamlessly.
Next was the Vanilla Manhattan, its dusky Ray-Ban depths glinting with ruby flashes. This drink smelled like a study wrapped in stained wood and old leather with a very nearby glass of port or sherry. It tasted like that too. The vanilla was deftly handled, just present enough to smooth out the rye, while the sweet vermouth and bitters were allowed to cut through. Notes of nuttier-than-sweet praline and slightly medicinal cherry rewarded sipping slowly, as you would if you were sitting in that study.
Last was the White Mezcal Negroni, which sounds a little scary if you’re not a smoke hound, which I am not. But duty calls. As expected, an aroma of sooty agave curled invisibly off the surface. And yet, to taste, the smoke was surprisingly well-tempered by the botanical amaro and the fortified funk of the sweet vermouth. I still didn’t love it—mezcal just isn’t something I want in the lead, usually—but I applaud the guts and the alchemy.
Aside from the specifics of the experience, the major upshot here is that The Luke’s $19 cocktail flight is an incredible value, even if you aren’t using your Chaser to get one for free. Each serving was quite a good size, to the point that I was feeling half-cocked before I had gotten to half the liquid, never mind the mitigating effects of a complimentary bundle of rosemary bread.
In short, in an era when many things feel expensive, the flight did so in just the ways you want—and not the way you don’t.
Written and photographed by Dan Mims.
