Jon, via email, teases me about the “stump the bartender” game. To some extent, I’m guilty as charged: part of the fun of this blog is that I can experiment, try new places and order new drinks. Part of the “research” is seeing what exactly you can order and expect out in Boston. But my ultimate goal really is to find good places I can get well-made drinks, not to wallow in mediocre bars or to show up our city’s drinking establishments. It’s just that in seeking quality, you find a lot of mediocrity - a lot of flash without the substance.

It’s a matter of context: walking into a local pub or neighborhood bar, I’m not going to be testing the bartender on their Zombies or Pegu Club Cocktails or what not. But establishments that sell themselves as fancy, refined and expensive deserve any criticism that asks them to live up to their (self-) image. You expect well-made food when you go to an expensive restaurant. I expect a well-made cocktail if I’m spending over ten dollars for it.

Or is ten dollars now considered cheap in this town?

I should have been put off by the trying-too-hard-trendy cobalt blue lighting banks or the fact that every server was a twenty-something, buxom blonde – this place couldn’t be about the drinks, could it? But what kept me soldiering on was my quest to find a nice downtown bar free from the Young Professional Meat Market Syndrome (YPMMS) that afflicts such establishments like the Rack, Silvertones or McFadden’s. Thankfully, Vinalia, wedged in between Downtown Crossing and the Financial District on Arch/Summer Streets, fit the bill on that score. The suit-and-tie/Ann Taylor crowd were mostly there to socialize with friends after work, not pose and flirt.

Vinalia bills itself a wine bar, but most people were drinking cocktails during the after-work hour. Which is surprising because the cocktails were awful. My friend’s Maker’s Mark manhattan was suitably done, though watered down enough to make us suspect they use wet, crushed ice rather than “aged” ice appropriate for cocktails. The bartender didn’t know how to make a Between the Sheets, so I opted for a standard Sidecar. Or standard, so I thought. What came was sweet and clear. I’ve seen varied recipes for sidecars, and brandies of varying darkness. But none clear. Brandy had been nowhere near this. A look at the check revealed that they’d made it with Hendrick’s Gin! It was the most disgusting cocktail I remember having in a long time. I might have considered sending it back or at least drawing attention to it, but our waitress was providing such lackluster service, we decided just to cut our losses.

Vinalia needs to learn that a) there are plenty of non-blonde people worth hiring and b) they need to hire someone who knows how to make drinks.

Vinalia is located inside the 101 Arch Street building (second floor), between Arch and Summer Streets downtown.

Do readers have any particular drinks they have for St. Patrick’s Day? Besides the green beer? One reader, another Chris, saw my post on pousse-cafes and sent in his own recipe for a layered drink.

Irish Flag
Crème de menthe
Bailey’s Irish Cream
Grand Marnier

In order listed, pour a small layer of each liqueur carefully into a cordial glass. Float each layer on top of the next, allowing time for it to settle.

Not having the ingredients on hand, I’ve not made an Irish Flag or tasted it, so you’re left on you own.

Not that I’ll have a deal for you every week, but right now Marty’s (Comm. Ave at Harvard in Allston) is selling fifths of Plymouth gin for 12 bucks. It’s an unbeatable price for a great gin, which increasingly is retailing for over $20.

Eric Asimov, a New York Times wine critic, has started a new blog, The Pour. Its mission statement is promising:

This is a new blog about the pleasure of drinking wine, and beer and spirits, too. That’s drinking rather than tasting….

This is not to say that I’m turning my back on critical or analytical drinking. I’d be out of a job, and besides, most wine lovers can’t stop themselves, and I’m no different. The point is to talk about wine outside the clinical context. In The Pour, I’m going to avoid tasting notes like the avian flu. Instead, I will talk about the pleasures of drinking, about wines I have tried at home with family and friends or with people in the wine business. I will also take the opportunity to expand on issues that appear in the newspaper, either with the Times’ tasting panel or with The Pour column.

I look forward to more. He also lists a number of wine and spirits sites in his blogroll, some of which I’ll investigate and add to my own links as time permits.

There are a number of restaurant bars which function fine for people who aren’t even dining, or who just want to come in for cocktails and casual bar food. Then there are those like Icarus, where the bar is really meant as a side attraction to the food. Part of it is the layout. The wood paneling and Ethan Allen furniture made it feel more like a Maryland country club lobby and less like a tony South End eaterie. The bar itself is small and awkwardly situated en route from the entrance to the dining floor and is conspicuously visible to half the restaurant. When I went there were a number of nondining patrons lingering around their drinks, but I’m not sure they weren’t the exception.

So, no, I’m not expecting a destination restaurant bar like the Franklin Cafe, but even by its own standards, Icarus’s bar could probably do better. More importantly, the food at Icarus is excellent, but the drinks menu seemed mismatched, trading in many of the sweet vodka sensations that flashy nightclubs do. Space constrictions result in a smaller selection than you’d want and expect; they didn’t stock my favorite gin – normal enough, but the lack of a high-end rum surprised me. I ended up going with a gimlet and was served a watery, unbalanced cocktail that made me wonder if the bartender used the misguided “fancy” recipe of squeezing actual lime juice into the drink. Maybe I should have stuck with the glowing yellow mango drink the woman next to me was having.

If low-calorie cocktails are appearing at Park Slope (Brooklyn) lesbian bars, is there any force of nature that could stop them from sweeping up Boston-way? Or is some South End cocktailerie already up to such horrors?

At a brunch I went to yesterday, the host didn’t have any bubbly, so she made do with mock mimosas comprising dry white wine, sparkling water and orange juice. Not to be mistaken for the original, mind you, but they were refreshing nonetheless.

It started me thinking that wine spritzers have gotten a bad reputation from the mass marketing of the 1980s (the sickly soda-pop-like Bartles & James) and its connotations as a highschool girl’s gateway drink. But a well-made spritzer can be a good thing. I haven’t experimented in making them at home, so any suggestions are doubly welcome so I can prepare myself for warm weather refreshment, should spring and summer ever come.

There are two important things to note about maraschino liqueur.

First, while etymologically related to maraschino cherries, it doesn’t taste anything like the waxy garnish or even like cherries. It’s made from the fruit and pits of marasca cherries grown along the Adriatic coast. While once very popular, far less is made and distributed today: Italy’s Luxardo is a standard and particularly good brand.

Second, its distinctively-scented almondy-half-bitterness is an acquired taste, and hard to describe, though definitely worth the effort to acquire. Maraschino is dry and sophisticated – a nice break from more common, sweeter liqueurs. It also mixes well: open any older (pre-1950) cocktail book and you’ll be amazed just how many cocktails call for maraschino liqueur. It adds a complexity that fell out of favor in the postwar years, but one worth adding back to cocktails.

How does one serve maraschino liqueur? My favorite way is on the rocks with a generous squeeze of lemon to tame the spirit’s assertiveness. Weirdly enough, the lemon brings forth the underlying cherry flavor. Add a slim twist of lemon peel if serving for company and you have a perfect apéritif or digestif. It’s particularly nice for these almost spring days when you want something fresh-tasting yet when breaking out the rum or the Campari feels like pushing the season.

Alternately, if you’re looking for a cocktail to foreground maraschino’s distinctive taste, try the Aviation cocktail:

2 jiggers gin
1 jigger maraschino liqueur
1 jigger lemon juice

Shake and strain into a well-chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist or cherry. For you gin-haters, vodka can be substituted, further foregrounding the maraschino flavor.

Luxardo can be found at Marty’s, Mall Discount Fresh Pond and better-stocked liquor stores. Retail runs about $28 a bottle.

Zon’s, a small restaurant in Jamaica Plain’s Hyde Square, bills itself as gourmet comfort food. If that seems a contradiction in terms, you don’t spend much time in JP. The appeal of nice dinner out in a place that’s not intimidating or too expensive captures the ethos of the bohemian bourgeoisie perfectly. It’s dress-down fancy.

Zon’s pulls it off, fortunately. Eat and Destroy has a review of the food, but after a recent visit I thought I should mention that its bar itself is unfairly overlooked in a part of the city where Irish pubs are thick on the ground but where there are few other drinking holes. It’s a small space and the bar section is even smaller, but even on a Thursday night it wasn’t crowded and my friends and I were able to snag seats at a prime hour.

They do not have a full liquor license and instead are limited to cordials and sweetened liqueurs. Amazingly, given the limitations, they’ve been able to craft an appealing cocktail menu. It gave me a chance to imbibe sloe gin, which I’ve not had in years. The Charlie Chaplin cocktail was a nice after-dinner drink, sweet and fruity but an unexpected combination all the same. I haven’t tested the recipe out at home, but guides list the following:

Charlie Chaplin

1 jigger sloe gin
1 jigger apricot brandy
1 jigger lemon juice

Shake and pour into an old fashioned glass, garnished with lime.

And of course, instead of a cocktail you can always take one of their cordials neat or on the rocks.

Their beer selection was limited, but a seasonal Harpoon hit the spot. The wine selection seemed fuller. The bar staff were unfussy, friendly and capable. Definitely one to add to the mental rolodex of places to go for a nightcap, digestif, or even a glass of beer in a place that doesn’t smell like what you’re drinking.

Zon’s is located at 2 Perkins Street at Centre St. in Jamaica Plain, near the 39 bus.