Ten minutes later we find ourselves inside Satan’s Whiskers - stuffed animals clad in funky props, throwback 90s hip hop tunes and very smiley staff galore. As long as the cocktails are worth it, I reason with myself, there’s absolutely nothing wrong now and then with a bit of kitsch and taxidermy.
The first order was an instant hit for us both - mine a Negroni Sbagliato, my other half hiding a conceited smile behind a Diplomat. No doubt, his is carefully selected for the ingredients and nothing to do with the name. I chuckle. The Sbagliato, a perfect harmony of fizz, bitterness and citrus. That’s the kick I am after. Seriously tempted by the prospect of a second one, but resist and delve into a dry daiquiri with strong passion fruit notes - a positively exciting experience on thy pallette.
Somewhere along the way we get lost in laughter and the very cheap and cheesy enchiladas seal the entente. The Pisco Sour convinces me that make up cocktails work as well, if not, dare I suggest better, than make up sex (note to sober self - one should probably work on improving one’s sex life).
Owing to their perfectly balanced nature, these are datenight saving potions. The menu changes each day and is therefore quite a popular spot, so book a table before you go and leave all pretentiousness at the door. It’s all about great cocktails and playful fun.