As prohibition-themed speakeasies go, the new Nightjar feels surprisingly authentic. The dim lighting, plush leather banquettes and hunched over jazz pianist set the mood, and the frantic rush of the capital melts away. This authenticity somewhat wanes due to the fake candles, but the ornate cocktail diagrams bring it back as we peruse the 30-odd concoctions. Despise very few changes to the menu, this site is far more comfortable than the original, where the low ceilings and pillars border on claustrophobic.
Attracted to familiarity, we try the London Mule (£14) first. It replaces vodka with Tanqueray, and supplements the ginger beer with King’s Ginger liqueur and galangal. The result is excellent, adding a pleasing complexity to one of the simplest cocktails. Service is perfectly amicable, although some were still learning the exact ingredients of each cocktail.
Ready for more, we delve further with the barrel-aged zombie (£16). A traditional zombie is so potent that many bars only allow one per person. This is no exception, spiked with four (yes, four) types of rum, absinthe and brandy. As if this wasn’t enough, it also comes topped with a deliciously booze-soaked cake, which the staff happily blowtorch pre-ingestion. It’s worryingly drinkable given the strength, as all the various rums balance each other out.
We finished with the Honeymoon (£26), a subtle blend of geranium syrup, Grand Marnier and Johnny Walker Blue Label (a bottle of which will set you back around £170, hence the price tag). This one was a little too subtle, and the shallow bowl it came in felt wholly impractical.
While other bars might charge you over a tenner for a gin and tonic, most of the prices here actually feel justified. It does sting, however, when you fork out for one that isn’t to your liking. With thought-out ordering, this is an excellent place to escape the modern world with booze and jazz.