If you live in New York City and its environs, one of the rare pleasures is finding a public establishment where you can indulge two of your favorite vices, a good whisky and a good cigar. The first image this conjures up is an unpleasant one: a smoky, wainscoted room filled with either celluloid collar stiffs with waistcoat and bushy moustaches, or sharks sporting oiled-down hair replete with gaudy suspenders and an Hermes power tie. With a $700B bailout looming over our heads, financial ruin looming on the horizon, blood draining down the sewers of Wall St and 2 candidates locked in a generational war over who gets to inherit this mess, this seems like an extravagant indulgence. But let’s remember what OneMalt is about: Single Malt Scotch not as a cudgel to bang out your sense of privilege and class distinction, but deconstruction and appreciation of a spirit that has survived economic up/down cycles and will continue to bring enjoyment to anyone who cares to spend some time with it.
So that brings us to Hudson Bar and Books on (you guessed it) Hudson Street in New York City. The first thing to appreciate is the absolute inconspicuous look of the bar from the street: a storefront in a row of other establishments, narrow and long with a small window overlooking the street. At any other time in its life, it could have been a butcher shop (it adjoins the Meatpacking District) a candy shop or, as it is now, a neighborhood bar. With just a few small tables and chairs on the sidewalk, this lack of pretention fits the area and is inviting. Inside, snug and elegant, dark woods, a medium sized bar with no more than a dozen stools and smaller cocktail tables. In the back, given its name, a small, semi-private sitting room with built in bookcases surrounding 3 sides. In the best sense of the word, it is romantic, evoking a small slice out of time where the world stopped when you walked through the door.
From a medium selection of Single Malt Scotch (I noticed they had more than one Bruichladdich, a good sign), I chose a favorite: Abelour A’bunadh Single Cask. The A’bunadh (“The Origin”) is, according to Michael Jackson, made from “Abelours less than 10 to more than 15 years, vatted together…all sherry aging, with emphasis on second-fill dry oloroso”. With a heavy sherry finish, it did not disappoint:
Nose: Sweet Honey, chocolate, cinnamon, heavy raisins
Mouthfeel: Oily with a medium spread, steady on the tongue
Primary: Raisins, dried fruit, sherry throughout
Finish: Astringent at first, then sweet sherry, full and long.
The whisky service is presented in a formal fashion, and the ritual around it is a reminder why it should always be sipped, savored and lingered over. My bartender, Eladio, presented a silver tray to me at the bar, and on it sat a cut tumbler containing a finger of A’bunadh on a lace doily. Alongside was a small glass pitcher of water and a small ice bucket and mini-tongs. Absolutely elegant, and at $18.00 per serving, we now know why there is a crisis on Wall St. My only nitpick would be to offer glass pipettes for dropping a few drops into the whisky, just enough to open it and with no risk of over pouring.
Next, I was presented with my cigar choice, La Aroma de Cuba Rubusto Nicaraguan. This cigar is a mix of Honduran seed and Nicaraguan tobacco and was a good balanced choice for the A’bunadh, as it had a good draw and its full flavor held up well to the strength of the drink. It is a nice presentation of medium brown tobacco, nicely veined and a stunningly decorated, colorful paper band. It was mildly spicy, which worked well with the sweet sherry of the whisky’s finish. Together, the lingering sensation in the mouth was almost exuberant, a wild mix of smoke and sherry that causes words in conversation to restively fall from your lips rather than bullet out. It makes your mind settle in, listen, wait and follow the trail of tastes that swirls around the back of the palette, full and lush enough to almost see them. My only nitpick was the uneven burn on the cigar, in spite of following the careful lighting procedure of first toasting the end and then long even draws upon lighting.
The cigar service is even cooler than the whisky. Another silver tray is presented, and on the lace doily sits a glassed candle, a solid pair of scissor cutters, a small glass tumbler filled with wooden tapers and a shot glass of water to douse them in after lighting. The heavy, crystal cut ashtray actually made the cigar look like a work of art. Again, at $16.00 (the least expensive on the cigar menu), I almost applied to the government for my own bailout, but together, the twin whisky and cigar services create the absolutely right atmosphere for enjoying the most out of each of these indulgences.
The verdict: not your everyday watering hole, Hudson Bar and Books is an urban oasis where serious consideration of whisky can take place among friends over lingering puffs of a good cigar. OK, now its September, 2008, and things are going to get rough around here for a few months, at least. So save the money, find a great occasion (Your Mortgage has been approved!) and slip down to Hudson Street to commune with the spirits of the Robber Barons of old.