I’ll admit I’m biased: I miss Triple D’s, the JP townie bar turned biker hangout turned lesbian karaoke joint. As my friend remarked last night, “How Boston is it to take a place that’s fun with an interesting mix of people and replace it with some bland notion of what a ‘big city’ restaurant should be?” Indeed the design cliches cross into blandness… the obligatory hardwood floors, the black concrete bar, the thick matte paint. Imagine a combination of Middlesex Lounge and Nightgale in the South End. It passes because it’s original for JP.

Alchemist is primarily a restaurant, but a sizeable bar area and a full liquor license make it the only full-service, non-pub bar in the neighborhood. (I’d reviewed Zon’s which has to make do with a cordials license.) Alchemist brands itself as a “lounge,” but it feels like a bar to me.

What do they do right? The host and bar service were all friendly and attentive. They have a decent beer selection; not unusual in a neighborhood of good pubs, but still a nice touch. And the cocktails themselves are decently good. I ordered a straight-up daiquiri made with a Nantucket aged rum. It lacked in fresh lime juice, but on a sultry summer night hit the spot. The bar, too, gets some of the details right, such as the nice concentric spirals for the lemon twists and the sleek, well-proportioned old-fashioned glasses. Finally, and importantly, the prices were quite reasonable. A seven dollar cocktail makes you glad for JP Exceptionalism.

Oddly enough, the bar doesn’t stock a full range of liquors, which seems a waste of a rare full license. Happily, they had Luxardo, though the bar staff didn’t know what it was nor were they aware they had it; it certainly didn’t touch my daiquiri, like it would have in an ideal world. The omissions, meanwhile, were glaring. No Campari?

Alchemist is still new and still packed (someone has to explain to me fire code regulations which would keep the bar area half empty). I’m curious to see if the bar grows and improves with age.

Alchemist Restaurant and Lounge is located at the corner of Moraine and South Huntington Av., at the intersection with Center Street in Jamaica Plain.

This ersatz English pub is odd at best. It’s ye-olde-England meets fern bar, a feeling not helped by the unwatched Arsenal matches on the TV or the deceptively cavernous dimensions of the place. On top of it all is the stranded feeling of the Financial District location, which thins out the crowd after the post-work drink hour and means that Elephant and Castle close shockingly early (midnight).

But there is one overriding reason to check out this place. It’s the only place I know in town that has Fuller’s on tap. A nice, full-flavored bitter ale, Fullers made a logical libation for the rainy weekend. Besides, it’s a great accompaniment to the deep-friend soft pretzels the bar serves.

The Omni Parker House named its retro-themed bar after the Edwin O’Connor book fictionalizing Boston politics, and true to form, drinks like the Politico fill the cocktail menu. But a lot of this is just gimmick as most of the specialty cocktails are nontraditional fruity vodka drinks – and even the intriguing Dickens Punch (”gin-based fizzy punch that Charles Dickens drank when he stayed here”) turned out upon further inquiry to be simply Pimm’s Cup.

But I was in the mood for a Plymouth martini, and Last Hurrah was able to deliver credibly. I asked for it not too dry, and got a decent balance of gin and vermouth. My only gripe was the oversized glasses combined with the mini shakers left at the table with the extra, if watered down, cocktail remaining inside. I know a lot of customers like this touch and feel they’re getting something a little extra. Me, I’d be happy with a smaller, well-chilled cocktail at a couple bucks less.

But perhaps the real draw is just that Last Hurrah is a nice, downtown bar that’s not overrun with a scene. On a quiet, rainy Friday night, sometimes nothing’s better.

The Last Hurrah is located inside the Omni Parker Hotel, at the corner of Tremont and School Streets.

This last weekend I headed over to dBar, a newish gay bar in Dorchester. I’d recommend it to those who haven’t gone – it has a nice neighborhood restaurant meets city lounge kind of feel. It’s nice to see owners putting thought into the design of a bar (even if that means leaving the woodwork from the former steakhouse), and hosts actually being friendly.

Drinks are big city prices, a pint five dollars and my not-terribly-high-shelf cocktail nine dollars. I can’t say I’m overly wowed with the bartending. Inexplicably the wheat beer had an orange wheel instead of a lemon wedge in it. And after having a frosty cold martini at DeLux,, my gimlet at dBar seemed downright tepid and uninspiring.

The thing worth noting is that like many these days, they squeezed fresh lime juice into my gimlet. I can’t say this is categorically wrong, but I’m convinced that the people who do it aren’t big gimlet fans. There’s something magical about the mutual bracing qualities of gin and Rose’s lime, and the real lime breaks the spell.

For what it’s worth, here’s one definitive statement, from Terry Malloy in Raymond Chandler’s The Long Goodbye:

“They don’t know how to make them here,” he said. “What they call a gimlet is just some lime or lemon juice and gin with a dash of sugar and bitters. A real gimlet is half gin and half Rose’s Lime Juice and nothing else. It beats martinis hollow.” (19)

I’m not a full traditionalist, and I find that a 4:1 ratio is much more suited to modern tastes than a 1:1 ratio. (You see a similar rebalancing in the stalwart martini.) Here’s how I make them:

Gimlet

2 jiggers dry gin
1/2 jigger Rose’s lime juice

Shake well in a cocktail shaker. If serving straight up, strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with thin sliver of lime floating on to. If serving on the rocks, strain into a rocks glass with ice and garnish with lime wedge on rim.

Like martinis, gimlets really are best very cold. Can they be made with vodka? Sure, but I’m not clear what the point would be.

Perhaps I’ve found the cheapest cocktail in town, perhaps not, but after the reviews of fancypuss bars, I decided to head to Delux for a decent, well-priced drink. The place was long one of my favorite places in town, but the affordable pints ($3.75) meant I didn’t ever think of ordering cocktails.

Turns out they do a credible job. My martini could have had more vermouth – hell, any vermouth – but it was ice cold, served in a properly chilled glass and garnished with two plump, tasty olives. Made with Tanqueray, it cost five dollars.

It’s been a couple of years since I’ve gone, and the place is both changed and exactly the same. The clientele, once mixed, is now completely straight, and on this Friday night it looked like the spillover from some gross Upper East Side bar was bussed in. Or maybe that’s just Boston in general. On the upside, while formerly packed to the gills, there was surprisingly plenty of room on a weekend night.

However the cozy rock-n-roller atmosphere is just the same – same record covers on the wall, same Cartoon Network playing on the TV screen. And the pints still $3.75. Bully for them.

Delux Cafe is located at 100 Chandler Street (at Clarendon) in the South End.

As a restaurant bar, Stella’s, on the edge of Blackstone Park in the South End, is in many ways ideal. There’s enough room in their front area to accommodate destination bar patrons, and on Tuesday night the mostly gay clientele filled the area. The bartenders are friendly, and the crowd has a real neighborhood camaraderie to it.

Some would praise the scene and the decor, but I found it too LA in spirit. Lots of off-white Corian surfaces and beige fabrics; heat lamps outdoors for those wanting to pretend we’re living in a warm climate; and half the bar patrons chatting away on their cell phones. Rather than have a full-stocked bar, the powers that be had put long glass shelves with underlighting to feature brand name bottles of vodka, whiskey, etc. It’s a mentality inherited from the 80s (let’s call it Absolutism) that prefers conspicuous consumption over quality; I find it affected and antithetical to fine drinking.

Given the limited stock of the bar, I went simple in my order and got a gimlet. The prices were reasonable for Boston ($7.50 for Bombay gin cocktail, $9.50 for top shelf). Unfortunately, the bartender made it with sour mix instead of strictly Rose’s lime. Bleh. To his credit he noticed a mint sprig floating in the drink and remade it, with a complimentary upgrade of liquor (what’s up with stray mint leaves these days?), but that didn’t save an unappetizing gimlet. The manhattans were better, but with too much of an unrounded bite, I’d put it in the OK rather than great category.

The affectations cut across other areas, too. Stella’s used a tub of crushed ice to chill the cocktails glasses, putting them top down in the ice until they needed one. Great idea, I thought, until I saw them pull glass after glass out, large bits of wet ice clinging to the inside of the glass and watering the cocktails down. The glasses didn’t even seem all that cold for all that fuss.

It seems that Stella’s has some atmosphere going for it, but is trying way too hard. Like the reviews that call the area SoWa, even though Stella’s is clearly north of Washington.

Stella’s is located at 1525 Washington St., in the South End.

As of yesterday I’m a year older and wiser, and my friends were kind enough to treat me to birthday drinks last night at the B-Side Lounge in Cambridge. It’s been open for a good while, and it’s a place people have always been telling me I need to go to - but it was my first time there. It won’t be the last. It should be the destination of anyone who likes fine cocktails done right.

The drinks menu runs the gamut from revived vintage cocktails to their own inventions. Their martinis were excellent, the sidecars not weird (this is the chanciest drink to order out), but the winner for me was a drink called the Last Word, a combination of gin, Chartreuse, maraschino liqueur and lime juice. It was one of the best cocktails I’ve ordered out. The bar staff are professional: after he noticed a stray bit of mint when pouring a sidecar, our bartender whisked away the drink and made a new one from scratch. The prices are reasonable, 8 dollars for most cocktails. The only negative was that the music played a smidge too loud; it was like they were trying too hard to play up the rock-and-roll diner theme. They should just let the drinks speak for themselves.

B-Side Lounge is located at 92 Hampshire Street, Cambridge, between Kendall, Inman, and Central squares.

It’s been at least a year since I’ve been to the Leather District, that narrow area Downtown wedged South Station and Chinatown. I was surprised to see how tony the area is becoming, with bistros here and there and well-manicured buildings. French restaurant Les Zygomates has been there many years, since 1994, before the post-Big-Dig facelift. Somehow I’ve never managed to go until recently.

The big plus about this place is that it manages to seem nice without being oppressively posh, trendy or stuffy. It’s a relaxed wine-bar and restaurant, with tiled floor, nickel fixtures, black-lacquered wood… essentially that 1920s “bistro” look. And though it’s also a restaurant, the bar space in the front is big enough to be inviting for those simply seeking a drink. The bar devotes more space to the wine than it does to the liquor, which means their selection is decent but limited. Still, my martini was well-executed and, a big plus, had the best olives I’ve ever had in a drink, olives you wouldn’t be embarrased to serve as an appetizer. Frankly, I’ve never considered using anything but the basic bottled Goya cocktail olives when making martinis at home, but now I’ve changed my mind. They were a nice touch.

I could have stood with more inspired beer options; the Kronenberg 1664 is authentically French bar fare, but a quality Belgian ale on tap would have gone a long way to make their offering seem special, not pedestrian.

The Man paid for this trip, so I didn’t get a gander at the check. I imagine it was it hefty enough, though.

Les Zygomates is located at 129 South Street, two blocks from South Station.

It’s been many years since I’ve been to the bar at Harvest - the Harvard Square regional-haute restaurant, that is, not the food coop - but I’ve always wanted to go back. The decor is traditional, with dark wood bars and paneling and leather seats, but it’s not stuffy. And given the paucity of decent places to go in Harvard Square, getting a good cocktail holds great appeal.

And they can make good drinks. I went with my old favorite, the sidecar, and wasn’t disappointed. I couldn’t see what make of brandy the bartender used (what other place has brandy among their well bottles, by the way?), but it was followed by Cointreau and a sour mix that had to have been made-in house, the result was just too good. Poured into a properly sugared glass, it was a finely made drink. The bartender, too, had the right combination of friendliness and professionalism.

Big drawback: it’s a restaurant bar with not a lot of space (about 10 stools) and others have already discovered it. I barely snagged a stool during Wednesday dinner hour. It also carries a tonier atmosphere than a casual drink out might warrant; I was glad I’d come still dress in office attire. The prices aren’t cheap - 11 bucks a cocktail - but that’s what I paid at Vinalia for a lousy drink. Might as well get quality and atmosphere that’s not faux-chic.

Harvest Restaurant is located at 44 Brattle Street, Cambridge, tucked away in the passageway behind the Crate and Barrel.

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.