That bartender knows where the hell it’s at…
Rocking chairs at the ready, blue rinses steady, it’s time to channel your inner granny and celebrate all things vintage at Bourne and Hollingsworth: London’s best OAP-chic cocktail bar.
This is the place where cocktails are served in teacups …sandwiches are served with cocktails …and a variety of other drinks are served in jam-jars with a side of shortbread. It’s totally bonkers and that’s why I love it. As will you.
My favourite aspect of Bourne and Hollingsworth is the decor. Seeing is believing when it comes to explaining HOW dedicated it is in paying homage to your granny. And my Granny. And all the Grannies in the world, in fact. Swirling wallpaper, frilly lampshades and a large decadent fireplace help set the scene of your average 1940’s front room. Chairs have been decoupaged with pink Financial Times print, mismatched table cloths cover tables and retro crockery finish off this throw-back to a wartime knees-up.
Best part is they’ve recently gee’d-up their cocktail menu, so along I went with an unsuspecting innocent in tow, who had no idea what kind of blurred-slurred drunken absurd mess was about to be incurred.
Our cocktail arrived on fire (The Zombie) -any cocktail which involves naked flames is surely guaranteed to land you in a gutter of blissful demise. Another cocktail arrived in a teapot. Ok then. Then finally, I had what I described as ‘liquidised Nutella’ -it was literally like someone had taken every breakfast I’ve ever eaten and turned it into a far-too-alcoholic cocktail. The drinks just got better and better. As we grew drunkerd and drunkerft.
Regulars to this website will know that I rate great cocktails as passing the ‘one sip and I’m drunk’ test. These cocktails only needed a sniff to pass the test. Yeah. I know.
So, in summary, imagine an old people’s home. Now add a bar to that. And finally …a rave. Because it all gets a wee bit ravey as the Grandfather clock ticks over in this place. The tunes get louder and better as each new song starts and before you know it, you’re surrounded by a minefield of empty jam-jars and tea cups, there seems to be two of everyone everywhere and you begin professing your love to the oh-so-capable cocktail waiters. Or maybe that’s just me.
To sum up, this place guarantees fun -and it’s the sort of fun your Granny would approve of. Ish.
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