Gallery Bar at Ace Hotel, Shoreditch

OFF übercool Ace Hotel’s vlogger-magnet lobby - ‘a place to congregate, socialise, work or wind down’ (while you wait to be spotted by an Italian photographer casting the next big budget  campaign to feature Made in Londra 'real people') your inner hipster will gravitate towards its Gallery Bar; a post-nuclear cubbyhole in which to spend ‘a long afternoon of lap-topping', sipping cocktails until well past midnight and ‘noshing snacks.’ Buttermilk fried chicken burger, and crispy fried cauliflower are the sort of stomach liners to load up on before ripping into a 100-strong whisky range that ain't for wusses that buy into Davy Boy Beckham-for-hire's Haig-Club nonsense. Scandinavian, Indian, Japanese and Australian single malts and Taiwanese cask strength rarities take on the tartan army; Tomatin 30 one among  a selection of Scotland’s finest on a list that’s also big on premium gin, rum and Tequila. ‘Rogue afternoon’ drinks involve Aussie Regal Rogue vermouth served (white) with yellow Chartreuse and tonic, say, at £6.50. A seasonally evolving selection of after-dark vamps might include Sucker Punch (Bulleit, Benedictine, lemon, pineapple and kombucha tea) or Simply Red (pictured),  a Glenmorangie and balsamic strawberry old fashioned that’s decidedly more current than Mike Hucknall. And this being Ace Hotel, you're a sashay away from another ace spot with a decent bar: Hoi Polloi, David Waddington's 1950's American-style dining room that is as sleek and well put-together as Eve Marie-Saint and as camp as Cary Grant in North By Northwest.

100 Shoreditch High Street E1 6JQ 7613 9800 www.acehotel.com/london 

Joyeux Bordel, Shoreditch

What's with the French? Sewer-minded Johhny Foreigner will insist on opening London joints named after knocking shops. If it's not Le Chabannais (see previous post), it's Joyeux Bordel. At the risk of sounding (heaven forbid!) like Shami Chakrabati, I doubt any emaciated, heroin-hooked hooker, trafficked from some former Balkan hellhole, held hostage by a psycho pimp, will find much 'joyeux' about her enslavement in a Berwick Street bordello. What's that? 'Joyeux bordel', in this context, roughly translates as 'a jolly old mess'? Ah, I see. Given the potency of this new bar's universally fine but fatal fixes, 'jolly old mess' might jolly well describe your demeanour after a serious session within. A dishy, dark Deco-inspired dive-deluxe, it's the latest from Pierre-Charles Cros and Co whose other high-end Gallic gaffs include Chinatown’s ECC http://tinyurl.com/oh98en2, Covent Garden’s Compagnie des Vins Surnaturels http://tinyurl.com/l7ubopu and a string of Parisian hotties such as Prescription, Beef Club and Hotel Grand Pigalle. Priced from £9, well turned-out temptation includes the likes of Suze and chilli-spiked gin martini; Black Beard (two rums, Aperol, Fernet Branca and custom-distilled falernum); a mezcal and pink grapefruit margarita; and the bar’s rye and pear liqueur, chocolately, bittersweet eponymous house signature.  Soundtracked by vintage vinyl, this sophisticated hole-up is aimed at discerning flâneurs, if not Shoreditch's weekend invasion of Joey Essex boys, Hummer-borne hens and Tango-tanned slappers - their screeching like, diplomatically dismissed by JB's Monsieur le doorman, s’il vous plaît!

147 Curtain Road EC2A 3QE http://www.joyeuxbordel.com

(adapted from my review for Square Meal) 

Canvas, Shoreditch

“We are cocktails and art" proclaims new DJ-lates bar Canvas, hoping to explain what sets it apart from the herd. Let's see: "Whether it's through paint, print, interior design, or even our cocktail menu created by Jumbles St. Pierre, everyone and everything in Canvas laments (sic) the importance of passion, art and creativity within our unique and ground-breaking concept." By the look of the art on Canvas's blank canvas tonight, I'm not sure the acquisitive Mr. Jopling will in the  long-term lament not opening his cheque book to its young creators. There again, I'm more  Corot and Courbet than White Cube contemporary; so WTF do I know? What I can spot, is a decent cocktail. And what Jumbles St. Pierre (oh how I love a good Jackie Collins' read) has come up with is more persuasive than rough and ready decor that lies somewhere between Warhol's Factory and a Wild West saloon; Canvas's barmen in black, more Milky Bar Kid than Johnny Cash. Three to try, are dark diplomat (a chocolate-orange twisted 'Diplomatico rum Manhattan’), banana cabana (if you're sweet on sweet), and Wild Turkey and Frangelico, fruit-flavaoured slug, wild angel. Canvas sits midway between Hoxton Square and the lurid late-night chicken cottages of Old Street Roundabout. If the area's pallid peculiars are to adopt Canvas, its 'greeters' will have their work cut out, repelling repellant boozed-up oiks looking for the grotty cheap pub it replaces and visitations from plagues of Hummer-borne Billericay Fake Bake Biancas out on Saturday's rapacious razzle. However tasty ‘upcyled’ (sic) Patrón Silver, mango and lime, chilli-frosted punch, this weary old banging DJ bar-avoider would rather drop £12 at nice Nightjar, Loves Company or Happiness Forgets around the corner. 
235 Old Street EC1V 9HE 7336 0275 www.canvasbar.co.uk

Soho Grind, Soho

I'm at the launch party for this Soho cellar-ette, a cocktail bar on a coffee theme from Silicone Roundabout's mocha pimps, Shoreditch Grind. The PR chick - whom I've never met before - is on fire. Even after sixty shots of her client's richest ristretto coffee, I'd be lucky to be a tenth as bouncy, bright-eyed and upbeat as this beaming bird. If she ever jacks in the day job, she'd be a natural in Tenerife - selling time-shares by the dozen to even the most recalcitrant of tourists. An evenings-only funky white retro styled squeeze box, the basement shakes to banging beats. Cue He's The Greatest Dancer. PR girl, seemingly incapable of standing still, is down with the Sisters Sledge; throwing disco shapes, and Soho grinding like a dervish rubber dolly. Alt career plan C: pole dancer? Through a hatch, an ex-Tramshed shaker slings espresso martinis and flat white Russians (Chase vodka, espresso, Kahlúa and microfoam steamed milk), Tommy’s margarita, barrel-aged ideas and gin-out the jams - a smart way to use up your Mum’s Tiptree rhubarb and ginger jam, combined here with gin and Antica Formula. Beginning to feel hyper, I'm off. Is my edginess down to the caffeine or PR prancer who reminds me of a brunette Michaela Strachan, pasty Pete Waterman's partner in perpetual motion on essential 90's kitsch late night viewing for wired clubbers, The Hitman and Her. As I exit, I offer a parting shot. In the gay heart of W1, they've missed a trick: why no cocktail called Soho Grindr? 

19 Beak Street W1F 9RP http://www.sohogrind.com/ 

Portside Parlour, Shoreditch

Originally a pop-up, in Spring 2014, the good ship PP set sail from Broadway Market, docking in Shoreditch, its new permanent mooring. Formerly a hairdresser's, the new premises' Grace Brothers'-style window display appears to have been salvaged from a Chatham chandler's yard circa the sinking of The Titanic. Mercifully, there's so far been no sighting of old gushy gusset, Kate Winslet, a ludic' luvvie so full of hot air, it's little wonder she floated while others sank like stones to Davy Jones' Locker. Inside, all darkly-lit metals and black leather booths, the mood is v Querelle - benders on a bender as imagined by Fassbinder (only not so gay, or at all threatening) - with gallons of good-times grog housed in mesh-fronted lockers. Get off your rocker on autopilot, an absinthe-laced triple rum punch as lethal as any U-boat torpedo, or sink a poet - Johnnie Walker Black ‘re-blended’ with Talisker single malt, sherry and bitters in a Chartreuse-rinsed glass - a dark destroyer to wax lyrical about at £9.50. Non-rum recipes such as Hendricks, nettle, elderflower, orange blossom water and mezcal long drink, lawnmower sling, are similarly ship-shape. ‘Private dining curated by Sager and Wilde’ is set to come on board soon and, served until 11pm (with wine from £20) a selection of piscine tapas includes baby octopus terrine, seafood croquettes, and devilled whitebait. Portside Parlour is a sophisticated cocktail cabin: more Otis Ferry than Calais ferry, it floats my boat.

14 Rivington Street EC2A 3DU 3662 6381  www.portsideparlour.co.uk

Hand Of Glory, Shacklewell

The Shacklewell Arms has long been the sort of lo-fi music pub where you'll spot faces that grace - or create - the pages of edgy style mags with titles like Wound, Bruise and GBH. Now, thanks to The Shrubbery - a garden-themed cocktail bar at popular cafe/ social hub The Russet - and Hand of Glory - the latest gig from Shoreditch stalwarts DreambagsJaguarshoes - this pocket off Kingsland High Street just got even more interesting for the style barometrs, bloggers, club monkeys and skanky posh bird junkies whose habitat is deepest Dalston. Latterly a dreary wine bar - and before that, the old Amhurst Arms - this rebooted boozer/ music venue's name describes the fate that befell the light-fingered back in the days before convicted thieves were given a conditional discharge, a team of social workers to help them resolve their issues, and group hug therapy on an adventure weekend in Dorset at the taxpayer's expense. JK Rowling fans will know the withered Hand of Glory, severed at the wrist, as Draco Malfoy’s pet talisman, while an older generation will recognise it as 'The Thing.' The bar's low-rent Gothic decor involves wiccan art, pagan trappings, a life-size fellow made out of straw, Morris dancing malarkey and, on the bar top, a petrified stone cat / gin dispenser (pictured) that cost £1,000, we're told. "More like a fiver at the Homebase garden centre sale," reckons my chum. I'm particularly drawn to a display case featuring esoteric avian taxidermy turned into the sort of millinery the late Isabella Blow would have teamed with a McQueen ballgown to go pick up a p-p-p-Penguin and a pint of milk at her local Spar. The overall vibe is cod-creepy: think The Wicker Man or the sort of in-breds' village pub John Steed and Emma Peel would be called on to investigate. Barrel-aged negroni and boulevardier, Thundering Molly cider and local Crate, Kernel and Five Points ales should help settle any nervousness. Rock up too for 'rural fare' from Austrian pop-up street foodies, Fleisch Mob - plus beer-sticks, pickled veg and sundry snacks in screw top jars that might stump any amputee tea-leaf looking for a fresh start behind the bar.

240 Amhurst Road E8 2BS 
@HandofGloryPub
  www.jaguarshoes.com  

Loves Company, Shoreditch

(Been there, got the t-shirt) 

In the classic bittersweet ballad "I Wanna Be Around', performed by everybody from Tony Bennett to Edyie Gorme ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eNpb8WsF6bc ), it's said ‘misery loves company.’ Based on the self-pitying crap I've endured over the years, cornered by maudlin drunk acquaintances in bars, and too nice to hand them the number for a decent counsellor then walk away, it's a spot-on observation. Despite duller-than-Doncaster-in-December decor, new dive bar Loves Company’s drinks are anything but miserable. If you’re not drawn to its ungainly muddy brown street level lounge served by a tiny bar, head downstairs to its much bigger basement. Rudimentary furniture that might have been assembled by rookies studying for O-level carpentry and, bizarrely, a white porcelain pedestal washbasin that looks incongruous, to the point of disturbing, behind the bar, do not augur well. See past this and you will be amply rewarded by a range of deeply doable drinks. Typical calls on a menu that would hold its own in Williamsburg - this new duplex dive’s spiritual home? - include a fiery mezcal bloody Maria with a bacon salt rim; chilled flame (a pisco, Pedro Ximinez and grapes sour); a house martini that introduces lemon (in both marmalade and juice form) and olive brine to Jake Burger’s Portobello Road gin; and a rum-bunctious zombie ‘you know is going to kill you.’ Prices certainly won’t: drinks are not deadly at just £7.80 for most. If you can’t face the full-on Shoxditch stramash or you don’t have reservations at Nightjar (directly opposite), these boys would love your company. Give them a spin.

104 City Road EC1V 2NR 7253 https://www.facebook.com/pages/Loves-Company 

adapted from reviews fro Metro and Square Meal.

Far Rockaway, Shoreditch

When I lived in New York,  reliant on the kindness of strangers, my Brooks Brothers shorts and Sebago deck shoes' days were spent at East Hampton or Fire Island Pines...the latter, as close as I ever got to Queens...as in the borough that's home to that big-in-the-1960s pleasure beach at Far Rockaway (the inspiration for this vast new Shoreditch bar/ diner on the site of the old Elbow Rooms) as opposed to the Greenwich Village People variety. Here, in eye-bleedingly busy Slush Puppy-tone colour-clash, it's the New York scene circa Basquiat, Keith Haring, Shannon's Let The Music Play, Flashdance and neon-lovin' fashion designer Stephen Sprouse that is referenced. Welcome to 1983 - complete with skateboard sculptures, album sleeve collages, a library of 4,000 Marvel comics and a DJ booth made from old ghetto blasters. To my been-there-got-the-t-shirt-and-framed-it eyes, it's all a bit ersatz - like that other 1983 NY phenomenon, Madonna - but although this is not, by some stretch, my idea of the coolest Shoreditch bar, I like its pose and swagger immensely. It's full-on, frenetic and fun (and not aimed at me, doh!) For the weekend TOWIEs that pour into the 'Ditch from London's equivalents of Far Rockaway (Southend/ Clacton/ Canvey Island), however, I'm guessing this big brash commercial brute, open until 2 am, will become the go-to DJ party shack, fuelled by lemon meringue pie, peanut butter cup, and purple haze cocktails, frozen margaritas (how very 1980s!) crack baby shooters and hot bitches (Babicka vodka, passion fruit, peppers, vanilla sugar and black pepper) at £7. In the diner - think post-disco Happy Days - pizza, franks, clubs, mac'n'cheese, meatball hero, wings, ribs, cheesecakes and brownies are the sort of eats avaialble 24/7 Stateside that remind me how, had I stayed in America for good, I'd be the size of Brooklyn, Queens, Manhattan and Staten Island too by now.
97 - 113 Curtain Road EC2A 3BS 8305 3090 http://www.farrockaway.co.uk

Upstairs At Nancy's, Shoreditch

En route to tonight's Plan A (see following review), I squeeze in the Press launch of this new wee upstairs hang-out, away from the fray, at the packed Crown and Shuttle - a low rent strip joint turned groovy distressed pub - below (see http://tinyurl.com/bn9k3aj ). A room that would, by oily London estate agent standards, constitute 'a generous space for entertaining' (or in my native Edinburgh New Town, 'a walk-in wardrobe) has been got up like a film set. Full-scale shopfronts - their window displays packed with retro wares - describe a Spitalfields square circa Poirot. Theres even a Victorian gas lamp under which to loiter, should the local tart wish to spotlight her display rack. Cute, but I am reminded of a similar set-up I've seen before -  a cod-Oirish village square, deep in the bowels of Waxy O'Connor's in W1 (Not so cute). A tiny candlelit bar dispenses London gins and craft beers (Partizan, Redchurch and Five Points), wine from the barrel, and a couple of cocktails such as Nancy's signature - La Penca mezcal, Kamm and Sons and Sacred vermouth (£8). With food from downstairs' kitchens available, this would make a great party space for up to 30. (Private hire is available) I forget to ask who Nancy is but presently I spot, and join, some familiar faces outside the village apothecary. The conversation turns to Naomi Campbell's witchy barbs on The Face; Madonna hits; David Beckham's pants; Tess Daly's Strictly awful frocks; Selfridges' discount cards; and moisturiser - as it inevitable does when you join a table of tweeting Nancy boys and their female admirers. 
226 Shoreditch High Street  E1 6PJ 7375 2905   www.upstairsatnancys.co.uk

London Cocktail Club, Oxford Circus

With owner JJ Goodman's London Cocktail Clubs 1 and 2 firing on all cylinders in Goodge Street and on Shaftesbury Avenue, opening numero tres in a basement just off Oxford Circus makes commercial sense. After all, who doesn't need a stiff drink, shell-shocked after the cacophonous assault course that is Topshop where, last year, I spotted some Comme des Garçons tribute brogues I fancied. "Them (sic) shoes are the nutz, mate. What size is he after?" pipes up a pipe-cleaner styled as Harry Styles, motioning towards the entirely unrelated 18-year-old hovering beside me. Clearly, I am of an age when I should be shod exclusively by advertisers in the back pages Daily Express magazine. Next up, Comfi-Fit leisure slacks with elasticated waistband? I doubt the desirable chaussures I took a shine to were the work of Topshop heiress Chloe Green -  designer of towering infernal heels as drooled over by acrylic blonde Romanian pole dancers and midget tea-bag tanned slappers from Stoke. Next time Chloe pops in to ogle the shekels rolling into her inheritance's tills, she'd do well to fall into LCC3, located just across the street from Daddy's flagship schmutter emporium, afterwards. Garish, trashy, graffitied Chicano gangsta's crib; why, this dark dive bar could be in Miami or South Central LA. Or, indeed, East Harlem, once home to J-Lo's Latino salsa star ex hubby, Marc Antony- currently, lil' Chlo's beau. (Is it just me, or is this unlikely pairing up there with Simon Cowell and whatever his American babymother's name is in terms of "REALLY?") What she'll find, is a raucous rock'n'roll party pit, its fit-for-fun-lovin'-criminals rinses mixed by badass brutes that come on like wild-eyed Hells Angels but are probably called Clive and Colin, and take in stray kittens at the Cockfostersbungalow they still share with Mumsy. LCC3 is big on tequila - try a seriously hot-tempered chilli sling - as well as wacky LCC signatures such as squid ink sour or pineapple and cheese martini. Hungry? Feed your face chilli squid with margarita dip, hush puppies, and ‘Snoopy Doggy Dog’ from a range of franks in buns. Next up for Goodman, launching in 2014, is LCC 4 in Shoreditch - a hood that, to Chloe and her Made In Chelsea ilk (or in her case Made In Hampstead Garden Suburb, I imagine) - is as edgy as it gets. 

4 Gt Portland St. W1 7580 1960 

www.londoncocktailclub.co.uk

"potofgold" shoe and more like it are available from 

www.cjg.com/collection/‎

#R3D Market, Shoreditch and Camden Beach, Camden

If the July heatwave decides to head back our way, there’s still time to catch some rays at two of this year's cool crop of summer pop-ups. Set in a disused lot in Shoreditch, the sun will finally set on #R3D Market on 16th August. Until then, it's open on Thursday and Friday evenings when DJs and live music, strawberry and prosecco cocktails and rum lychee and Ting are the ting. Slinging good grub to grab, there's Mark Hix’s FishDog, Burger Bear and Mei Mei’s Street Cart. For Slim Shady, sofas under a giant awning are where to shelter from the sun (or the rain).  Meanwhile, over in NW1, if you can’t afford the crazy cost of a high season villa on Ibiza or, cooler still, Formentera; there's the Costa del Camden by way of a stay-cation. Its palm-fringed sandy beach comes with cabanas, deckchairs and crowds only otherwise experienced at a free fishbowl and foam party in Faliraki. The entertainment here runs to retro arcade games, ping pong and free live gigs on Fridays. Drink Pusser’s rum punch and 2-4-1 cocktails weekdays from 5pm -7 pm from its tiki bar and feed your face fish and chips, burgers, wings, ices and candy floss  Come 24th August, that's your lot as this lot is cleared and your Mum whips you off to be kitted out, to your undying embarrassment, in a grim grey uniform from George at Asda as the school bell beckons.

#R3D Market:  5 - 7 Rivington Street EC2A 3DT http://www.redgallerylondon.com

Camden Beach: Roundhouse Chalk Farm Road NW1 8EH 0844 482 8008 www.roundhouse.org.uk

#R3D Market, Shoreditch

Milkshakes brought the boys to Kelis’s yard, but at this Shoreditch vacant lot,  £7.50 cocktails such as rum, lychee, lime and Ting, and gin and strawberry prosecco twinklers courtesy of Background Bars, are what to expect. In this built-up 'hood, any summer pop-up in a disused space is a handy City escape; but this is a really good 'un. Chill on sofas under a large canvas marquee - an insurance policy lest our current Saharan spell revert to the sadistic Jet Stream-inflicted norm - and groove to live bands and DJs spinning a chunky boogaloo stew. Enjoy a good goss - this week's topic: which major UK rock star/ responsible father reportedly fears he'll be dumped by his wife in the daddy of all lawsuits after allegedly spawning an extra-curricular sprog in the US? - and fire into good grub from a street food market on-site. There's meaty patties flipped by Burger Bear, Fishdog (‘the Rolls Royce of fish finger sandwiches’), pizza, Chinese comfort food from MeiMei’s cart, and a Caribbean BBQ at this fun free hang-out, open on Thursday and Friday evenings only until midnight. The backlot party is set to run until the end of August at which point, the space will be covered in naturally formed ice, most likely. Anticipate a pop-up skating rink with glühwein, pretzel and oompah bands in lederhosen come the first week in September, and enjoy this hottie while you can 

5 - 7 Rivington Street EC2A 3DT http://www.redgallerylondon.com

NOLA, Shoreditch

Like fraught fellow dipso Blanche Du Bois, as imagined by Tennessee Williams, I too have "always depended on the kindness of strangers." A free meal here, a Press trip there, the occasional (sole) useable content of a goody bag, and a bottle of a client's dubious rocket fuel, palmed off on me by their hopeful PR. Vile booze that is finally succumbed to in desperation - faute de mieux at 4am - unleashing a one-man Country and Western cat's chorus and much hollering from those poor bastards I've just woken up, fellow slum dwellers in a ramshackle tenement that , anywhere else but in K and C, would be rented out for 10 quid a month - 'roach spray not included. Yes, I really should have stuck with that 'promising job' in the City but. oh now-long-dead sneery old careers master - you who sniffily suggested this pupil woulds be lucky to get a job flogging lucky bags at his local tuck shop - would life, however precarious, have been so much fun? And just how many duvet days can a high-paid/ bored rigid wage slave at Deloitte take without getting fired, by the way? Tonight, in a fairly faithful pastiche of a steamy seen-better-days Big Easy pile, I am relying on the kindness of a lovely Big Apple-born door whore called Elle to score me drinks at a bar besieged by greedy hooch Hoovers. Result! Not only does said stranger/ guardian angel set up me up with a nob-stiffeningly sexy sazerac, the barman recognises me from God-knows-where and decides I'm cool enough to be plied with de la Louisiane and similar New Orleans swallows. Joy!  Meanwhile, Blues Brother Dan Aykroyd - flown in for tonight's heaving launch party - whips the place into a frenzy with his roisterous line in boogie woogie and hellcat rock. The launch is a happy-fuzzy blur but I've been back since. All in all, I find myself most taken with NOLA, a bar that comes on like a crazy Shoreditch night back in the days before dick-head ad agencies moved in and - always the kiss of death, this - Italian Vogue latched on (about 3 months before the blonde breadsticks at British Vogue did, I shouldn't wonder). Take the Overground Train Named Desire to the ' Ditch. Yes, even if you're well over the ol' 'hood,  I urge you to check out this peeling sepia tone Basin Street film set,  not least for its fine range of drinks inspired by that other fact of N'Orleans life - hurricanes: in NOLA's case, stiff breezers fit to blow your toupee off.
66 Rivington Street EC2A 3AY http://nola-london.com/

Crown and Shuttle, Shoreditch

Once, a seedy pole-dancing joint patronised by lonely Polish plumbers ("for cash I do you good deal, Mister sir") and dodgy Del Boy wankers - literally -  the Crown and Shuttle has reverted to its historic role as a public house. And a rather nice one that reflects the new beer fancier's needs, it is. Its mission? To slake thirsts with fine London ales such as Redemption Urban Dusk, East London Nightwatchman, Redchurch Old Ford stout (£3.60) and quality foreign brain-blasters. Wines from £17 include Pinot G at £26 and tasty street scran from a van - all gleamy 50s chrome - is one reason the urban courtyard garden out back is packed out. Another, is the chance to play table footie and ping-pong. The decor - all downbeat-bare-brick-distressed with a few 50s chairs lobbed in the mix - harks back to the days before this neighbourhood figured on most folk's radars. My date, who worked across the street in a branding agency before it felt compelled to move on to Plaistow, East Ham, Becontree or some other far-flung District Line exotic I'll no doubt be reporting back from, come 2015, as the new Shoreditch, sniffily dismisses some of The Crown's punters as 'suspiciously Barnsbury.' Meanwhile, due to cunningly placed signage, I'm about embarrass myself by mistaking a storage room for the bogs - and no, on one bloody Mary I am not bloody well pished! As it is, nobody notices. As far as the check shirt nu-Edwardian hirsute hipsters and shaven-headed Shoreditch pale and peculiars are concerned, interloping West London boy is invisible. 

226 Shoreditch High Street E1 6PJ 7375 2905  http://crownandshuttle.com/ 

Queen of Hoxton, Shoreditch

Question: do I really need to attend... Summertime on the Rooftop?

What: hip happenings and open-air cinema in a Shoreditch boozer’s roof-top garden.

Where: The Queen of Hoxton, 1 - 5 Curtain Road EC2

When: from May until September see www.queenofhoxton.com for details

Pros: Keep On Movin’ to old skool summery sounds from guest DJs Jazzie B, Norman Jay at al at Headphone Disco. Get your best cossie’n’sarong on and create a splash at Hot Tub Tropicana parties. Watch Some Like It Hot, Taxi Driver and other cool classic flicks at the Queen’s nightly alfresco cinema paradiso (also showing).

Cons: surely no amount of iced tea cocktails could compensate for sitting through Jaws, again? That rubber shark is just not scary any more. Did someone say hot tubs? Warm bubbling liquid petri dishes = hypochondriac hell

Go with: Piz Buin Factor 30. ‘Burn baby burn, disco inferno’ is not to be taken literally.

Well and Bucket/ 5cc, Shoreditch

Reversing an invidious trend, here's an old boozer that, having kicked the bucket, has come back from the dead as the Well and Bucket. Presumed lost when the previous pub shut in the 1980s, the place was until recently a rag trader's shonky showroom. That was before the Barworks team (Electricity Showrooms, The Slaughtered Lamb, etc, etc)  got to work on it. As part of its inspired nu-Edwardian steampunk makeover, the old Shoreditch boozer's original (listed) glazed wall tiles have been uncovered, much to the delight of ossified Jack The Ripper era dandies, captured in creepy Gothic portraits, that oversee the buzzy brasserie-style ground floor space. At its copper-topped island bar, choose from a dozen draughts such as Old Dominion Double D from the USA and Ink by Camden - stout and porters a perfect match for oysters presented, comme il faut,  on ice-laden vintage stands, or wrapped in bacon with crushed hazelnuts and creamed leeks (£14). Bivalve avoiders might prefer memorable 3 for £7.50 sliders filled with lamb shank pomegranate yoghurt and walnuts, ginger beer chicken and spicy slaw, or a cracking chilli and cheese dog (don't be deterred by its scary Alien-like assembly). If I admire the main room (and I do), then W and B's downstairs drinking den, 5cc has got me all loved up. Done out with flair, care (and a lot of spare cash), its butch captain's cabin pose recalls another East End gig I dig - Hawksmoor's cellar bar. As chez Will Beckett, the Bucket's cocktails are the biz: call a creamy Vesper using Black Cow vodka made from Dorset moos' milk or try colonial old fashioned, cosmo daisy (£9), honey sour and boulevardier - like this gorgeous gaff, another rave from the grave I'm mad keen on.

143 Bethnal Green Road E2 7DG 3664 6454 https://www.facebook.com/WellAndBucket 

Looking Glass Cocktail Club, Shoreditch

Callooh Callay may have got there first, but that has not prevented this nearby newbie from also referencing Lewis Carroll.  Given its owners' other bar is The White Rabbit in Stokie, 'Looking Glass' fits the overall brand, I suppose. What next? The Queen of Hearts - where punters down free mezcal, Aftershock and meths shooters to cheers of 'off with their heads?' Tweedledum - a niche Hoxton venue aimed at thickos - and Tweedledummer, its Brentwood twin for the TOWIE cast to hang out at? To those not used to the currently fashionable London pursuit of  'hunt the hidden door', this cocktail joint will seem a bit on the poky side. You, of course - wise to their game - will instantly identify the white framed looking glass as a portal to another dimension, in true Alice style, a magnified mirror image of your current surroundings. Into the room's concrete industrial shell - the place was formerly a rag trade wholsealer's - chuck tacky antiqued Louis XVI furniture as found in geriatric Jews' Golders Green villas ('Why buy a load of old schlock for thousands of pounds when you can find the same thing, only brand new, for a pony in a sale on the Edgware Road, bubeleh?') To this, add DJs, live bands, burlesque and cocktails that just keep getting curiouser and curiouser. Pop Goes The Walrus (a buttered popcorn-infused bourbon and caramel sundae) and Looking Glass Fizz (stewed ‘brambly’ apples, blackcurrant, gingerbread and prosecco) may not scream 'DRINK ME!' (to me), but if High Tea (vodka, strawberry jam, milk and rum'n'raisin ice cream) is your cuppa, hare down to Hoxditch and discover Wonderland! 
49 Hackney Road E2 7613 3936 http://lookingglasslondon.co.uk  

Underdog, Shoreditch

For its first stab at a cocktail bar, Scottish indie craft brewing success story BrewDog has created a moody speakeasy in the basement of its second London premises - at what used to be Mason & Taylor and, before that, Green and Red. Figure out how to get in -  having Marvel Comics mutant Kitty Pryde's special powers will help - and you'll enter a dimly lit, atmospheric, post-punk take on a Deep South juke joint circa Calvin Coolidge - complete with a gutsy growling rhythm n'blues soundtrack, occasional live music and bartenders straight out of a Walker Evans portrait. Are the drinks as downbeat as their Great Depression-era surroundings? Not a bit of it! Any joint whose head honcho, lightly probed as to what bar he rates in London (his excepted), cites Happiness Forgets is playing my tune. Priced between £8 and £9, ideas such as Boil Your Maker (Glen Garioch Highland single malt or Buffalo Trace with a choice of floral, rich or bittersweet home-made vermouths) are top dog. As in an Ardbeg-based julep and The Beer Meeting (Diplomatico Anejo, Dead Pony and Libertin Black ales, verveine cordial and orange bitters) BrewDog brews inevitably sneak into the mix wherever practicable -but the guys aren't beer zealots to the extent that they won't knock out a Negroni..or Dead Pony-Groni if you let them have their way.  Underdog has the makings of a great Shoreditch bar. So what if only popcorn is available to eat? There's a Depression going on out there, don't ya know? Two 'Snakebiteritas' to the good; like you care?

51 - 55 Bethnal Green Road E1 6LA 7729 8476  www.brewdog.com/bars 

Barrio East, Shoreditch

I once shared an apartment with two Latinos in downtown Manhattan. Boy, when one hot-tempered Puerto Rican falls out with his even more volatile lover over over a hickey he's attempting to pass off as hives caused by a fiery Scotch bonnet pepper, the collateral damage makes Hurricane Sandy look like a storm in a teacup. Furniture trashed; clothes shredded; but more distressingly, a hail of broken black vinyl raining down on Broadway twenty floors below, chucked from our windows.  Hector Lavoe; Ralfi Pagan; Willie Colon; Celia Cruz; Orchestra Harlow; The Fania All-Stars: all were smashed to smithereens on the sidewalk as Romeo the Ricky Martin lookalike set about cheating Chico's prized record collection with a vengeance. Such a waste. I owe my great interest in all musica latina to those rowing roomies. In underground dance clubs in unfashionable Zip codes, they really got me into it those Nu Yorican beats, patiently teaching me how to dance salsa like I was raised in San Juan (from the knees down and with clenched butt cheeks). That I heard the DJ drop some of those old skool beats is reason enough for me to commend Barrio East  - numero tres from the hombres behind Islington and Soho’s smaller Barrios.  I dig this cool cantina's dime store plastic kitsch and zingy fiesta colours. Me gusto mucho its glass pineapple scone lights - I want, I want, I want!  Holed up in an old caravan, we load up on street food and £8.50 tropi-cocktails - Gingerbread Colada and The Hoodrat (vodka, chill, red pepper vanilla and apple). On the Boom Boom Room’s busy dance-floor, Shoreditch scenesters attempt (and fail miserably) to shake it like J-Lo and Marc Anthony back in the day. I'd have paid good money to witness that barney - and the shredded clothes from Barney's -when those two firecrackers were splitting up. 

141 Shoreditch High Street E1 www.welovebarrio.com

The Old Shoreditch Station: guess where!

The posse behind perennially quoted watering hole Dreambagsjaguarshoes have annexed the long-defunct North London line station at Shoreditch for their second venture. Its punters look similarly derailed. A bar-cafe-gallery-shop, here's a perma-catwalk for beautiful freaks into skinny jeans and matching lattes. Grungey, goth decor includes skip trawl booty and low-flying upside-down potted plants. To slake the thirst of proto Mark Zuckerbergs and wannabe Tracey Emins, there’s Erdinger, Kirin Ichiban and Red Stripe on tap, a good selection of rums, whiskey cocktails, various malts - Talisker, Dalwhinnie,  Auchentoshan et al - and wine from £4 a glass to Macon Lugny at £24 a bottle. Hearty mutton and venison stews and lamb hot-pot are a snip at £5.50 and there’s sandwiches, panini, cakes, pastries and really good organic, free trade, Brazilian bean coffee fresh-milled to order.  Pews in a slouchy anteroom behind the bar are at a premium. A trip to dank loos is not for OCD sufferers (a project for Aggie and Kim, perhaps?) and the punters spent precisely one hour and twelve minutes to look like they threw it all together in the dark in under ten seconds. My 'Shoreditch Look of the Month' award goes to one spectacular tranny for managing to channel 1970s glam rockers The Sweet, a stick of Blackpool rock and Marge Simpson with a bad case of impetigo in one stunningly original look.  1 Kingsland Road E2 http://www.jaguarshoes.com/?page_id=88