Sometimes I fantasise about what life would be like if born in a different era. I envision a more glamorous version of myself drinking strong cocktails aboard an opulent cruise ship. A jazz quartet mimics my mood as the alcohol in my coup relaxes me. In this vision, I am wearing a large hat and a well-tailored suit. I set sail round the world, one disastrous death away from meeting Poirot himself. Of course, the problem with my game of imagination is this: existing in such fiction would mean I’d have minimal rights. I’d have a great-fitting suit but no career. I’d be drinking cocktails to evade societal oppression and, I wouldn’t be writing this article unless penning it under a nom-de-plume.
Oriole is a cocktail bar and restaurant named after plumage of its own. The Latin-American inspired restaurant and jazz bar, from the team behind Nightjar and Bar Swift, is so called after ancient bird of same name and lavish feathers. And this place is definitely as decadent as its ornithological label.
The last time I went to Oriole, I was on a date in 2017. I arrived outside Smithfield market, following my GPS down an alleyway, concerned my date was about to take me to an Abattoir. I didn’t have a death wish, just a penchant for speakeasys. Oriole’s original hidden stairway was a gateway to some of the best cocktails of my life and the sound of soulful jazz. Not a meat cleaver in sight. Now, Oriole 2.0 is much easier to find. Re-opening in Slingsby Square, Covent Garden there’s no need to fear for your life on arrival but do fear for your head the next day - there’s so many brilliant cocktails on their menu, you’ll want to sample them all.
Start upstairs at the Bamboo Bar. They sell cocktails on draught. I know this sounds more rum punch than mixology, but trust me, they’re fantastic. Try: tequila and pink pickled ginger, Odyssey, or Chincha Alta starring vodka, absinthe, Moët champagne and guava whey. The latter was my first drink. Yes, I start with a cocktail sporting absinthe? Abattoir adjacent or not, it seems I may have a death wish, after all.
After a tipple at the bar, we descend the staircase to decadence. The interior design, akin to the original speakeasy, features woven bamboo ceilings, ochre velvet drapes and tropical walls. This place feels like a real jazz establishment. Here, I am on that opulent cruise ship. Low-level, ambient light, bright enough to ogle at your intricately decorated drink. Perfect for the mood; not so great for reading the menu.
The couple on the table adjacent pick up the gold table lamp to view the paper. Eventually, they resort to the iPhone torch. That’s the only time you see anyone on their phone here, though. Sitting facing a stage with performing artists wills people to remain present and engaged with their surroundings. It’s lovely.
As we peruse the cocktail menu, arranged geographically by Old-World map, we set sail across many continents. We launch in Argentina as we’re offered a cheese ‘Chirpa’ to snack on while deciding. I am chirping indeed. The salty, gooey centre of the cassava bun has kick started my hunger. And, looking at the menu, I want to eat and drink everything.
The food menu from Gustavo Giallonardo’s Argentinian heritage, celebrates fusion cuisines of Latin America, Peruvian-Japanese, Argentine-Italian and regional Mexican traditions. We devour the starters: the hamachi tiradito sees slivers of young yellowtail, drizzled with edamame emulsion and garnished with tiny kiwi fans – as delicious as it is delicate. At the richer end of the taste spectrum, the umami tang of shitake mushrooms, cured egg yolk atop soft arepa blows my mind. I didn’t know a mushroom could taste this meaty, until now.
It's rare to be able to drink cocktails throughout a meal without it ruining your food. Here, it is possible. If the Chincha Alta didn’t have enough kick, then Cities of the Plain from the Americas map pips the post. A smoky mezcal, pine americano drink with a bitter, cacao-like after taste. Think negroni’s better-travelled, sexy cousin.
We then jump to Europe for refreshing, gin-based Route Napoleon, while we sample mi cuit trout with velvety beurre blanc. The man on the piano transports me back to America, ‘Mississippi’ washing over us in his laid-back lyrics. Throughout our meal, he plays bluesy covers of Clapton, Redding and Presley. I am loving the music, but it upsets me that I keep putting down my cutlery to applaud him because it prevents me from scooping the remaining silken chestnut served alongside the perfectly pan-roasted mallard and its deep, treacly orange mole sauce.
Talking of caramelised things, don’t leave without dessert. The chocolate and hazelnut delice is worth ordering for the quenelle of tonka ice cream accompanying it. Let’s face it, the chocolate and hazelnut part isn’t exactly hardship. ‘Delice’ translates to ‘pleasure’— exactly what it says on the tin.
A La Carte here will set you back around £150 for three courses and a cocktail. Although, Wednesday-Fridays the set menu is incredibly reasonable at £60 with a fee for musicians (£8-12 depending on the night of the week).
It may have lost speakeasy status, but Oriole makes up for it in more ways than one. So, whether you visit like me, to live out your nom-de-plume, cruise ship fantasy, or you just fancy a night out with great food, even better cocktails and live music, this is a place where you are guaranteed to feel glamourous.
7-9 Slingsby Pl, London WC2E 9AB; Oriole
