Club Med

How Apothecary has revolutionized the Philly cocktail scene.

by Trey Popp

Shirley Nicole Fonner STANDARD & POURS: An Apothecary staffer concocts one of the bar/lounge's numerous haute cocktails, many of which feature rarefied liqueurs and tinctures. (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

According to the posted rules at Apothecary, a new, self-styled speakeasy on 13th Street, guests are prohibited from "yelling, howling, hollering, yollering or other loud vocalizations." Neither will management tolerate "horseplay, tomfoolery or high jinks." Not to mention hats. But that's just for starters. Patrons wear perfume, cologne or "natural scent" at the risk of expulsion. And when they do leave, departures must be executed "briskly and silently."

I don't know about you, but when I go to a bar, it's probably because I'm in the mood for a little tomfoolery. Horseplay, too — so long as the horses are properly shod, of course. (I'm not completely without manners.) And though I never knew what to call it before, I'll bet that most of my exits are lollygagging, drawn-out affairs chock full of yollering all the way from the stool to the sidewalk.

So why have I had more fun drinking at Apothecary than any other place I've opened my mouth in the last 10 years?

Maybe it's just because I have an expense account. After all, what's not to like about a place where trained staff pour top-shelf liquor into highballs and martini glasses until you say uncle?

Even the words "trained staff" are an affront to the creative enthusiasm and unpretentious mastery on display when you sidle up to a bar across from the likes of Phil Watts. Like his colleagues manning the bottles and bitters and countless exotic tinctures at Apothecary, Watts spent six days under the tutelage of artisan-cocktail evangelists Paul Tanguay and Tad Carducci. That doctoral-level coursework is what's behind drinks like the Two Sheikhs "Al Ikseer," which marries reposado tequila with green Chartreuse in the company of tart blackberries, salty beetroot syrup and a slightly earthy tincture of feverfew root.

Get Watts talking, though, and it rapidly becomes clear that the 20 exotic concoctions listed on the drink card are just a jumping-off point.

"When cocktail nerds come in — and I am one," he interjects, "the first thing they do is go off the menu." As of early July, there were 18 off-menu drinks programmed into the bar's computer software, ranging from Death in the Afternoon, a pre-war potion revived by the decriminalization of absinthe, to the Vesper martini, whose invention Watts correctly dated to the 1953 novel Casino Royale, in which Ian Fleming introduced his readers to James Bond.

But cocktail agnostics will find plenty to please — and sometimes challenge — the palate right on the menu (which will change seasonally, natch). It's hard to imagine a better summer drink than the Booty Collins, a refreshing blend of green-tea-infused gin, passionfruit, yohimbe, valerian root and seltzer with just enough tincture of cayenne to tickle the throat on the way down. What's more, that and several others are sweetened with agave nectar, whose glycemic index is so much lower than standard sweeteners, Watts again correctly noted, that it is even considered safe for diabetics.

Next cold spell, I'm going back for the Meditation on 13th Street, a bourbon-based nog whose admixture of allspice liqueur sets off an aromatic explosion only slightly modified by tinctures of holy basil and rosemary.

Food is a decidedly secondary concern, but Apothecary manages some tasty small plates, as well. Flatbread pizzas are splendidly thin-crusted affairs, with simple but well executed toppings like salami and shirred egg, or cumin-spiced beef and ribbons of red cabbage. A focaccia sandwich also hit the mark, as did a Moroccan-spiced chicken pastilla. Prices are more than fair, which is a relief given how much you're likely to spend on drinks.

The deep, narrow downstairs room is a little dark for my druthers, but the second level features a handsome roof terrace and a lot more sunlight inside. Both zones can get crammed on a weekend night, but for my money, this is the kind of drinking best enjoyed on a slow evening amidst a clientele that respects the cheeky house etiquette. That's when you might cross over into the rare pleasure of drinking something that doesn't even have a name.

"Whenever I'm not working," Watts confided, "I always wind up here, playing with drinks."

Once I'd spent enough time at the eight-seat upstairs bar one Wednesday, he threw together an impromptu mixture of Sazerac rye whiskey and ginger liquor over a muddle of lime and fresh ginger root, topped off with a dash of crème de cassis and a couple ounces of Reed's ginger beer. As a certified ginger fiend, all those layers against a solid rye backbone made me want to croon and shout.

I just hope I didn't yoller, because I definitely want to go back.

(t_popp@citypaper.net)

Apothecary Bar + Lounge |  102 S. 13th St.,  215-735-7500, apothecarylounge.com | Hours: Tue.-Sun., 5 p.m.-2 a.m.; closed Mon. | Cocktails, $10-$14; Plates, $9-$12 | Wheelchair accessible