much like skull & bones, there is an unspoken brethren of craft bartenders in seattle. murray may be the patriarch of the bunch, but evan, miles, and andrew are just some of the other local celebrities that take a seat at the communal table of seattle’s cocktail culture. there are similar bonds within seattle’s sister restaurants, serafina and cicchetti being one such example. as we dove into the happy hour menu, rolling waves of cicchetti rolled onto the counter in front of us. luminous globes of castelvetrano olives and white truffle popcorn clouds ($1!) punctuated tides of less memorable dishes. the drink menu, on the other hand, was hit after hit, all neatly organized with a table of contents that appealed to my ocd tendencies. after an introductory round of drinks, a shaken baby jesus with scotch float arrived (a drink i have now affectionately coined the ‘smoking baby jesus’). as the sunny afternoon turned into a sunsetted evening, we learned that the barkeep manning cicchetti’s helm of hooch also moonlights at vito’s, which is self-proclaimed as having “a history rich in cocktail culture, organized crime and east coast, family style italian food.” perhaps seattle’s craft bartenders aren’t so much a secret society, but rather their own famiglia.
when buxsome burlesque bombshells put out a call for help, i am always eager to oblige. consider me a new age medici, a patron of the arts. before showing support for sinner saint’s burlesque hall of fame fundraiser (anything to help send our local tarts to vegas), i met up with some of the girls for happy hour at ravish on eastlake. eastlake has always seemed to me a strange microcosm of randomness caught in between the bustle of university life and the 9 to 5 of downtown– somewhere you pass on the way to getting somewhere else. however, due to a recent onus on snazzing up the byway, many new eateries and businesses have popped up to cater to the bourgeoisie. ravish fits the bill, serving up an impressive array of small plates sprung from the proprietors’ catering business of 20 years (meatloaf sliders? fuck yes!) but enough with the small talk, let’s get down to the cocktails: in addition to passing my test of “how well is your bar stocked?” (fernet? check!), this place had my vote the minute i saw the lower half of the drink menu titled “how do you like your pimms??” now that’s what i call foreplay.