A few assumptions to start: You're out of precious vacation days; you need a break; you enjoy a good midafternoon buzz; and your boss isn't already sitting at the bar. Good, then yelp in pain, announce an urgent need to visit the dentist and call it a day. Sevy's attracts brokers and bankers and fully gruntled postal workers and housewives--just about anyone. The dress code ranges from casual on up. The kitchen serves a special afternoon bar menu. Bartender James Pintello spins out stories as well as medicinal doses of alcohol (remember the toothache?). It's a bright, quiet and friendly space, with a clear view of the doorway, just in case the boss gets the same idea. Plenty of time to duck into a corner or dash out to the patio, jump the fence and make your escape. Oh, yeah--almost forgot the underground parking garage. Good thing if you wish to avoid detection.
Think back to freshman-level science, when we first learned the essential value of coffee and alcohol. Life cannot exist without these two elements. Indeed, journalism cannot exist without these two elements. Yet they occupy opposite ends of the spectrum. They are, metaphorically, yin and yang, heaven and earth, Franken and Limbaugh. Attempts to meld coffee and alcohol generally fizzle: Kahlúa and cream, for example. Despite the obstacles, bartenders at Kismet managed to combine the electrifying buzz of high-octane coffee and the mind-numbing anesthetic of alcohol into one incredible concoction. The Turkish coffee martini is a blend of strong, bitter coffee, vanilla vodka, white chocolate liqueur and the aforementioned Kahlúa--potent in more ways than one. At once sweet and bitter, the cocktail provides something for everyone. It's visually appealing, slightly complex and laced with alcohol. Unfortunately, it goes down so smoothly that patrons may exceed their credit limit in a matter of a few minutes. It's that good and that easy to drink.