Chelsea Cloisters, 87 Sloane Ave, Chelsea, London SW3 3DW

“Let’s you and me go an nibble a couple..”says Big Moose to Philip Marlowe before forcing his way in to the speakeasy, shoehorning the private eye, in past the password protected peephole door with his ape-like bulk. If you aren’t a Raymond Chandler fan, ‘nibbling a couple’ means let’s you and me have a drink. Do keep up. That’s the vibe Bart’s of Chelsea are going for with their new comic book menu. You won’t find any mention of Silver Surfers, Iron Men, Dr Stranges or Spidermen in Uncle Bart’s Kingpin of the Chicago Underworld comic verse. We’re rolling strictly pre-Batman era DC, hard boiled detective genre comics this evening.

In true speakeasy style, it’s kind of hard to find Bart’s. We made a few trips around the block and luckily their neighbours are no good at keeping secrets, because we got there eventually. Having bypassed the peephole door with only charm for a password, we were ushered in to a quirky, red and cosy secret den.

The bar looked decent and well stocked, at first impression, so we took our seats. The décor is a dark, with a varied selection of brass luggage racks (very Orient Express), old clocks, old radios, lacklustre taxidermy, and some bizarre choice of wall furnishings, like the convex mirror mounted like a porthole above me. We won’t dwell on the confused presence of an ironically besmirched Mona Lisa print, or the painting of a cherub which someone had glued a comedy joint onto. They have a decent outdoor area, replete with mock Chesterfields and Spy prints on the walls.

Their cocktail menu is extensive – and I mean, almost unending. You can throw down 200 bucks on a giant teacup full of prosecco and passion fruit, or stick to the other cocktails ranging between £14 and £17 each. The menu itself is a comic book, although the cocktails don’t exactly tie in with the ‘story,’ as outlined – but who cares, I overconceptualise everything. The comic was well presented and you could tell they’d spent time on it, in that you could actually read it like a comic. They’re happy to play Frank Sinatra while you sink into your after work wind down, but I still feel they could amp up that pulp detective novel theme a bit more than they do. The young man who answered the sliding peephole was inordinately good natured as he repeated his demands for the password to each incoming party of guests. None of them had the password, alas.

On to the drinks! Our first pick is the Oak of Cointreau – a solid crystal tumbler filled with a coffee, orange, woody, frothed concoction topped with a torched marshmallow. This was tres boozy, very dramatic, and a one punch knockout kind of drink. Followed by what I have affectionately named “girl juice”: Chanel No 3, a peachy keen blend of – well, peach liquer, aloe, No 3 gin and gomme syrup. It came topped with a plump, sugar frosted red rose and cheered me right up. It was light, floral and almost tasted like it was good for me – probably one of the nicest cocktails I’ve ever had, in fact. Our bartender was happy to tell us a little bit about our drinks, but not anything I couldn’t have told you from drinking it – which is no bad thing, to be honest.

The service was a little slow towards the end of our visit, and the place is a little haphazard in general, but you could do a lot worse than drop in here if you’re in the area. Watering holes like this aren’t ten a penny in London, and certainly not in that part of town.

The post Uncle Bart’s Comic Book Menu appeared first on The Carouser.