In this "food fight," Street Editor Lin King assesses the cocktail situation at The Alchemist & Barrister and Agricola. Only one restaurant would prevail.
Ah, the age of 21. It is the capstone of collegiate birthdays — the one that graduates you from plastic cups of light beer to sit-down ambiance and professional mixology. The portal to a whole new world of Princeton beckons to you, urging you to sip from its ridiculously tiny straws.
I did not have the alcohol tolerance or the budget to sample every establishment in town, so I stuck with the two hotspots on Witherspoon: The Alchemist & Barrister and Agricola. The latter was completely filled by 8 p.m., and my friend and I made our way to the A&B.
A&B has two entrances, both lodged in a vaguely European alleyway. There are two dining rooms and a traditional pub to choose from, and we opted for the latter. The overall vibe of the dim taproom was quaintly casual, even homey. Someone was working on his laptop at the bar, and two middle-aged couples were on a double date with dark drafts. The hardwood furniture and tartan curtains would have made it quite easy to convince myself that I was in London, if not for the Nationals-Mets game playing on three flat screen TVs. The menu consisted primarily of wines and drafts, but being relatively ignorant in both these art forms, we chose to stick with the fruity specialty drinks. Of the eight options, I went for the Pear Martini ($10) and my friend chose the Apple Manhattan ($10).
The Pear Martini made a poor first impression purely because the outside glass was sticky all over. That aside, it was a sweet (but far from cloying) concoction, topped with a rim of salt and sugar. The ingredients were Absolut Pear, Stoli vanilla vodka and fresh lemon, and while I admittedly could not taste lemon, the citrus must have contributed to the lightweight aftertaste that was all pear, little-to-no vodka. This is not to say that the alcohol was imperceptible, but the mix of two flavored liquors accentuated fruitiness and guaranteed minimal burn. Conclusion? Easily downed.
Unfortunately, the Apple Manhattan was not nearly as well received. It did not taste bad, per se, but of the ingredients — Wild Turkey whiskey, amaretto, sour apple pucker and cranberry juice — the overpowering one was Wild Turkey, and Wild Turkey alone. At best, it was Wild Turkey with a tinge of cough syrup. My friend and I left this one mostly untouched, but to A&B’s credit, the bartender noticed this took it off our tab. Talk about great service!
Agricola was much less about the family-oriented service. What can you expect, though, from a place with marble tabletops, a bustling young crowd and cooler-than-thou bathroom sinks operated by pedals? To complement the fruity choices we made earlier, we ordered Aviation ($13), with Maraschino cherry liqueur, Greenhook gin, crème de violette and lemon, and Blood Rye Brew ($12), with blood orange, rye whiskey, Campari and white beer.
The Blood Rye Brew was a dangerous game: I am a huge fan of blood orange soda as well as whiskey, and this drink is a perfect balance of the two. The alcoholic taste was strong in the first sips, but the aftertaste alternates between the orange, which is left tingling on the tongue, and the whiskey, which settles somewhere deeper in the throat. After a while, the white beer surfaces and there is a distinctive, almost mead-like undertone to the citrus. I drank this a little too happily.
Aviation, on the other hand, was an even bigger flop than the Apple Manhattan had been. It smelled sort of like spearmint, which I disregarded mostly for the aesthetic of the blue drink. The overpowering ingredient was gin, and the lemon, instead of lightening the gin, only brought out the sourness of the cherry and crème de violette — and not in a pleasant way. This, too, was left mostly untouched, except with an extra loss of $3 and nobody to take it off our bill.
All in all, I loved the Pear Martini at A&B a bit more than I did the Blood Rye Brew, and hated Agricola’s Aviation a bit more than I did the Apple Manhattan. Don’t get me wrong — Agricola is an unrivaled choice for its delicious food and hip, flannel-clad waiters. But when it comes to late-night fun, Alchemist & Barrister has my vote.
Read More
J.S. Foodies review: Delicious, unique pancake spot just off Nassau
Lulu PettitThe Daily Princetonian reviews J.S. Foodies, Tokyo, a Japanese brunch place specializing in “kiseki pancakes,” or Japanese soufflé pancakes, which recently opened in Princeton.
The Daily Princetonian reviews J.S. Foodies, Tokyo, a Japanese brunch place specializing in “kiseki pancakes,” or Japanese soufflé pancakes, which recently opened in Princeton.
Club sports struggle to make ends meet with limited budget
Suthi Navaratnam-TomaykoIn conversations with club sport captains, Club Sport Executive Council members, and Campus Rec officials, The Daily Princetonian found that sport clubs draw from a fixed and limited operating budget, creating financial difficulties for these clubs.
In conversations with club sport captains, Club Sport Executive Council members, and Campus Rec officials, The Daily Princetonian found that sport clubs draw from a fixed and limited operating budget, creating financial difficulties for these clubs.
Bubble over football field allows practices to be held in all weather, increasing stadium usage
Andrew BosworthEach winter, a “bubble” is erected over Powers Field inside Princeton Stadium following the final football game of the season. The white dome allows varsity, intramural, and club sports alike to practice and compete indoors throughout the cold winter months.
Each winter, a “bubble” is erected over Powers Field inside Princeton Stadium following the final football game of the season. The white dome allows varsity, intramural, and club sports alike to practice and compete indoors throughout the cold winter months.
