Sometimes, when you feel like you may have run out of inspiration, you have to go back to the beginning.
Allow me to explain myself.
I sometimes wonder how much of a cocktail scene there is left to cover in the Coachella Valley. Most of my “research trips” land me in yet another Moscow mule or margarita joint—one after another. Don’t get me wrong; these can be fine drinks when properly executed. In fact, these are perfectly sane choices for many establishments, whose clientele or menus warrant keeping things simple and refreshing … but as far as I am concerned, I don’t think anyone wants to read the musings of a Moscow mule correspondent.
After more than a few of these outings this month, I was feeling a little uninspired. (By the way: Shoot me a line if there is a bartender/program you think I should spotlight, especially if it’s in the valley outside of Palm Springs.) Then I remembered that there was a glaring hole in my coverage.
I have never truly written about Seymour’s, located inside Mr. Lyons at 233 E. Palm Canyon Drive. Yeah, I mentioned that I worked there, and shared a recipe or two, but I never really wrote about it; some sort of journalistic integrity prevented me from self-promoting columns. It’s only now, after at least six months of being back in Palm Springs, that it dawned on me that I never gave one of the top cocktail bars in Palm Springs its due. Now that I work elsewhere, I can finally do so.
In case you have ever wondered how this vodka-bashing Boston curmudgeon began terrorizing your local bar scene … let’s just say I was here on vacation from the San Diego suburbs, and yadda yadda yadda, I got offered a job as the first bartender at Seymour’s (following co-owner Steen Bojsen-Möller). The rest is history. The two of us rocked it behind the stick for a few months, trying to get people to walk into a steakhouse and go through the heavy velvet curtain to find us. Then Zane Tessay joined the team, and the three of us put up with caravans of people walking through and rubbing their hands on everything, saying, ‘Ooh, great space!’ … and not buying a darn drink. Let me tell you: Building a bar clientele in a place without a sign or an address ain’t easy. But we did it. It took lots of pretzels.
The reality is that a bar is more than drinks, and Seymour’s is a perfect example. It has a great back bar, a two-way mirror that hides a TV (campy ’80s movies and commercials are regular features), a spectacular patio setup and a hip playlist; Seymour’s could serve only vodka-sodas, and I would show up. The drinks are really tasty, though, with a wide range of both classics and originals.
The Little Owl—Steen’s mix of rye whiskey, walnut liqueur, amaro and IPA syrup (take IPA and boil it down; then add sugar; and … actually, don’t do it; it’ll stink up your house)—is a bartender’s after-work favorite. “Zane’s Avocado Drink” (it will never have another name to me) is a creamy, spa-ready mix of gin, mint, lime and, yes, avocado. Avocado isn’t your thing? Try the Ocotillo Blossom, a mix of bourbon, bell pepper and egg white. Steen’s Desert Yardarm (vodka, yellow chartreuse, basil, lemon and soda) and Chamo Car (chamomile-infused brandy, lemon and black-pepper honey) are guest favorites as well.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention “Gin N Jams,” the Wednesday night tradition with discounted gin drinks and rockin’ old vinyl on a classic turntable. Feel free to bring a record or three from your own collection.
Speaking of former co-workers and beautiful bars, there is now, finally, Paul. I had the pleasure of working with proprietor Paul O’Halloran at Mr. Lyons during my tenure at Seymour’s. On our nights behind the bar together, it was a rare combination of New York and Boston—one part Broadway, one part Fenway. I have known for some time that he and his husband (also named Paul) were opening a bar (with food!) of their own at the corner of Vista Chino and Gene Autry Trail—so it goes without saying that I have been waiting to see this place open.
I am thrilled with the results. This place has personality. The original back bar looks straight out of a movie; the fact that it was previously sitting unloved in an empty place is a sin. The walls are a tasteful dark hue, and there are subtle faux-Chinese touches appropriate to the address.
Despite Paul’s background, this ain’t no “craft cocktail” bar. Yes, the cocktails are certainly crafted, but don’t look for a list of drinks with clever names and occult ingredients. Come here for a properly made dry martini—like the one I had on my first visit, with the lavender-forward Dorothy Parker gin. This, of course, led to my quoting her famous quatrain regarding martinis … which after a little digging, I learned that she likely never wrote—but she did at least inspire it.
Drink anything you want here—as long as it’s a proper drink. Want a margarita to go with the guacamole and chips? De nada. A negroni with your homemade meatballs? Prego. Have a Manhattan with your steak frites, or Cosmopolitans to live out your Carrie Bradshaw moments. While I am sure a Last Word cocktail wouldn’t be a problem, please don’t ask for muddled lychee and cilantro.
When I asked Paul if he had anything he wanted to say, he thought for a second and said: “No more than two checks.” Bravo.
The sign outside just says “Bar/Food,” and the place is wedged between a carneceria and what appears to be some sort of cannabis operation. Paul may look like it’s closed. It’s not. Bring a photo of your pooch for the nascent “Wall of Dogs.” I realize this just sounded like something Stefon would tout on Saturday Night Live. Trust me, it’s a real place.
Forgive me if this whole piece seems like a cheap endorsement of my friends—but if you haven’t been to either of these places, you really should go check them out. I would gladly drink a Moscow mule in either bar. That’s high praise.
Kevin Carlow is a bartender at Truss and Twine, and can be reached via email at firstname.lastname@example.org.