Martini Mezze

Next stop was the Chelsea Brasserie and Bar - with the emphasis being on the Bar.  Oh, it's a lovely place.  Situated in the Sloane Square Hotel, the staff are absolutely delightful (we've been there once before).  When we pitched up it was about 4pm, so practically empty and we were soon made at home by the lovely and self-deprecating barman/mixologist.

It's Martini time.  We started off with a classic Vodka Martini with olives.  Alas (not really, you'll understand why in a sec), it arrived served with a twist.  Now, this is not the biggest problem either myself or Scarlett have ever faced in our lives - not to mention that worse things happen at sea - like icebergs if you're aboard the Titanic.  We weren't bothered by it.  I mean we would have drunk it.  But we did mention it to our lovely waiter, who apologised profusely and made to take it away again.  The barman insisted that he would make another one, however, rather than waste the one he'd already made and if it wasn't too much of an imposition, he would give it to us for free.

Oh dear, poor us, it's Hobson's Choice or the Gordian Knot all over again - is this the solution, and is it the right solution to the dilemma we faced?  By the time we'd drunk the twisted Martini we decided it was an appropriate solution and so was the Martini.

The olive-bearing Martini was also delicious (I'm a twist girl).  Scarlett and I have developed an art to Martini drinking.  The method we've adopted is to order a Martini which we would like to drink - yes, I know, this is not unusual - and then we share each one as we go.  This way we get to taste many Martinis without drinking many Martinis.  That is, we drink quite sufficient Martinis (or perhaps a little more, but who's counting).  Actually Scarlett counts and has concluded based on rigorous testing - the kind that major multinational fast moving consumer goods companies producing washing powder don't do - after the last visit, the maximum Martini count for optimum satisfaction and ability to still get home while maintaining one's usual decorum afterwards is six.  That's three each, not six each.  Hence the title Martini mezze.  Analogous to a giant bowl of hummus, just one Martini would be too much or too little - several sipped and appreciated as individuals in their own right makes much more sense.  Although as Scarlett pointed out it's wise to impose some kind of limit as otherwise the mezze approach to Martinis will be the only thing that does make sense - a surfeit running the risk of making one insensible.

I only have photographs of two because I got a bit distracted by the delightful company and let's face it, by the Martinis.

Line 'em up.  We did.  In the foreground is the Butterfly Martini, which was very nice.  Actually, it's not.  The Butterfly Martini was one of the other ones which was clean and somehow grassy - it had Elderflower cordial in it, and mint. [thanks Google].  The Martini in the foreground is the Clover Leaf Martini - silly me - how on earth could I have forgotten that.

It was also really rather delicious, with raspberries, and garnished with a mint leaf. 

Unfortunately, the mint leaf had the unfortunate effect of making the whole drink taste minty.  Still experiential learning is very important as a research tool.  If we hadn't tasted it how would we ever know.

The shy little Martini hiding behind the big, butch (well it was with that mint taste) was the Lychee Martini.  Less sweet than you might think and not as sweet as the Pineapple and Cardamom Martini which would not be nice were it not for the Cardamom which shakes everything up a bit.  That is, the latter would basically be a Pina Colada or, ugh, do you remember that yucky stuff, Malibu, eeugh, eeugh - sorry, but I'll have to skip this and get back to...

the Lychee Martini.  Lovely (and I got the lychee - thanks, Scarlett).  And here's another shot which reminds me for some reason of 2001: a space odyssey.  I think it's because it just looks very sci-fi.

Do you not think it might be the embryo nestling in embryonic fluid belonging to an alien life form?  Or is that just me?  Answers on the blog please.

The sixth Martini wasn't actually a Martini.  We succumbed to a Margarita and it was delicious too with that nice touch of astringency you get in the best Margaritas and (happily) not a mint leaf in sight.

So here's the moral.  If you like the taste of mint, you'll love the Chelsea Brasserie and Bar - and ditto re: Martinis.  However, if you like Martinis without the mint then stick to: Classic; Lychee; Pineapple and Cardamom and do check with one of the charming and helpful staff before confirming your order.