Note for the reader:
Pour yourself a drink and play the song above to fully enjoy what you're about to read...ready?
Night. I was wandering around the streets of Shanghai…what can I say? I always dreamed about visiting this city, so modern yet so full of contrasts, it was one of those nights to keep in mind once I’d be sadly back home.
But…a friend of mine, a musician, called me around midnight. We'll call him Stig. He just finished singing and he doesn’t felt like coming back to his hotel: “Want to see a place? Ok meet you in 20 minutes in front of Element Fresh in Xintiandi. Then we can walk there, it’s not close but it’s nice outside.”
I have to admit I was slightly worried: this guy is a bit…say…unpredictable and "it's nice outside" meant 7°.
After just about half an hour of cit chats I found myself in front of a shop selling cook books and household products. Oddly enough it was still open. He red with amusement my doubtful look.
With the daring face typical of all Opera singers, he whispered something to the clerk behind the counter. This lean guy, nodded with a blank face and turned to a library full of Chinese cook books.
I thought he might want to buy one for me, even though I didn’t quite got why, since we’ve know each other for a while and he knows I don’t really cook…
and then the magic happened: the lean guy slid the library along the wall, like in Young Frankenstein and revealed a narrow corridor, with red brick walls, barely illuminated. It can’t be real, I couldn’t believe it. My friend whispered in my ear “Hold your jaw, it’s not all yet.”
The corridor led to a top floor where I found myself in a small bar, wooden furniture and amber lights. We were in a sort of small club, where you can have a drink while listening to jazz music. In the hearth of Shanghai this place makes me feel like I’m in New York during Prohibitionism.
Amazing.
The room looks already full with the few customers who were already in in. We kept running the wooden stairs but after a few steps we had to stop. The stairs ended on a blind landing.
He told me to “Push the map on the wall” and so I did: I placed my hand on an old map of Shanghai, faded by the time and something clicked: the wall moved and we enterd the privèe.
An even smaller counter, a bar-woman behind it and six stools. The warm lights made me feel at ease and the sound of a Sax warmed up my ears. Moments of astonishment mixed with happiness.
I was in a movie and no one told me about it.
The bar-women looked very young, she has delicate features but she handled the shaker with confidence behind the counter.
Her name is Faye, she’s Japanese and she’s the Bar manager. She told me they don’t just make drinks, they prepare real cocktails, elixirs of pure joy for your eyes and palate. The products they use are top quality, meticulously measured to create their special recipes, most of which are secret.
The decor is not casual: the nuances of the wood, the lights, the interiors, the aged metal of the counter…everything is designed to make you feel like who’s behind the counter is not just an element but the main character.
At this point I’m game and I order a Charlie Brown, so well presented that I almost feel bad to taste it.
My friend plays Humphrey Bogart and ask for “the usual”, even though he points out that is a “Stormy Weather”.
When I saw Faye serving him the drink with a coaster that looks like a music score I get why we chose a Stormy Weather. He likes to be stylish even with his drinks.
What can I say? In a place like this where the lights are not strobing and the music makes conversation easy, time goes by so nicely but unfortunately relentlessly.
An hour later on a taxi, on my way back to the hotel I asked myself if it really happened, wondering if it was just a dream. Then I look down at the playing card with Charlie Brown & C. still in my hands and I convinced myself that yes, it happened and if one day I want to go back there it wouldn’t be a problem I wrote down the address on the back of Stormy Weather coaster…
What? Do you want it too? No way, it’s too easy, you have to ask Stig…
Intrigued? Be sure to come back for my next post...
I thought he might want to buy one for me, even though I didn’t quite got why, since we’ve know each other for a while and he knows I don’t really cook…
and then the magic happened: the lean guy slid the library along the wall, like in Young Frankenstein and revealed a narrow corridor, with red brick walls, barely illuminated. It can’t be real, I couldn’t believe it. My friend whispered in my ear “Hold your jaw, it’s not all yet.”
The corridor led to a top floor where I found myself in a small bar, wooden furniture and amber lights. We were in a sort of small club, where you can have a drink while listening to jazz music. In the hearth of Shanghai this place makes me feel like I’m in New York during Prohibitionism.
Amazing.
The room looks already full with the few customers who were already in in. We kept running the wooden stairs but after a few steps we had to stop. The stairs ended on a blind landing.
He told me to “Push the map on the wall” and so I did: I placed my hand on an old map of Shanghai, faded by the time and something clicked: the wall moved and we enterd the privèe.
An even smaller counter, a bar-woman behind it and six stools. The warm lights made me feel at ease and the sound of a Sax warmed up my ears. Moments of astonishment mixed with happiness.
I was in a movie and no one told me about it.
The bar-women looked very young, she has delicate features but she handled the shaker with confidence behind the counter.
Her name is Faye, she’s Japanese and she’s the Bar manager. She told me they don’t just make drinks, they prepare real cocktails, elixirs of pure joy for your eyes and palate. The products they use are top quality, meticulously measured to create their special recipes, most of which are secret.
The decor is not casual: the nuances of the wood, the lights, the interiors, the aged metal of the counter…everything is designed to make you feel like who’s behind the counter is not just an element but the main character.
At this point I’m game and I order a Charlie Brown, so well presented that I almost feel bad to taste it.
My friend plays Humphrey Bogart and ask for “the usual”, even though he points out that is a “Stormy Weather”.
When I saw Faye serving him the drink with a coaster that looks like a music score I get why we chose a Stormy Weather. He likes to be stylish even with his drinks.
What can I say? In a place like this where the lights are not strobing and the music makes conversation easy, time goes by so nicely but unfortunately relentlessly.
An hour later on a taxi, on my way back to the hotel I asked myself if it really happened, wondering if it was just a dream. Then I look down at the playing card with Charlie Brown & C. still in my hands and I convinced myself that yes, it happened and if one day I want to go back there it wouldn’t be a problem I wrote down the address on the back of Stormy Weather coaster…
What? Do you want it too? No way, it’s too easy, you have to ask Stig…
Intrigued? Be sure to come back for my next post...
xx
C
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Nota per il lettore:
Nota per il lettore:
Versatevi un drink e date il via al brano qui sopra per assaporare a pieno quello che state per leggere...pronti?
Sera. Una passeggiata randagia per le strade di Shanghai...che dire? Per me, che ho sempre sognato di visitare questa città così moderna e così piena di contrasti, era già una serata da conservare per i momenti un pò tristi, una volta tornata.
E invece...un amico musicista mi contatta verso mezzanotte. Lo chiameremo Stig. Aveva appena finito di cantare e non aveva voglia di rientrare in albergo: “Ti va di vedere un posto? Ok, tra 20 minuti davanti Element Fresh a Xintiandi. Poi ci arriviamo a piedi, non è vicinissimo ma stasera si sta bene fuori”.
Ero un pò preoccupata, lo ammetto: il tipo è un pò imprevedibile e la serata calda di cui parlava segnava sul termometro 7 gradi.
Dopo poco meno di mezz’ora di chiacchiere mi trovo davanti ad un negozio che vende casalinghi e libri di cucina. È stranamente aperto. Lui legge divertito il mio sguardo interrogativo.
Con quella faccia di bronzo che solo un cantante lirico può avere, bisbiglia qualcosa al commesso dietro la cassa. Questo, un ragazzo smilzo dallo sguardo imbambolato fa un cenno affermativo col mento e si volta verso la libreria con sopra i volumi di cucina cinese.
Vorrà regalarmene uno penso, anche se non ne capisco il motivo, visto che ci conosciamo da un po' e non ho mai cucinato...
Ed ecco che inizia la magia: lo smilzo fa scorrere la libreria verso sinistra, lungo il muro, come fossimo in Frankenstein Junior, facendo apparire un corridoio stretto, poco illuminato, con pareti di mattoncini rossi. Non è vero, non ci credo. Il mio amico si avvicina al mio orecchio e mi fa “aspetta a perdere la mascella, non è finita.”
In effetti il corridoio porta al piano superiore, dove mi ritrovo in una piccola sala bar, arredata con legno caldo e luci ambrate. Siamo in una specie di piccolo club, dove si servono cocktail e si ascolta musica jazz. Nel cuore di Shanghai un posto che fa tanto periodo proibizionista a New York. Fantastico.
La saletta è già piena con i pochi avventori che vi possono entrare. Continuiamo per le scale, ora di legno, ma dopo pochi passi dobbiamo fermarci. La scala finisce su un pianerottolo cieco.
“Push the map” mi dicono è così faccio: appoggio la mano su una vecchia cartina di Shanghai ingiallita dal tempo e faccio scattare il meccanismo: la parete scorre e siamo nel privèe.
Un banco ancora più piccolo, una sola barman dietro il banco e 6 sgabelli. Il Sax mi scalda le orecchie, la luce mi rilassa. Attimi di attonita felicità. Sono dentro un film e nessuno mi ha avvertito.
La barman dietro il bancone sembra giovane, lineamenti dolcissimi ma movimenti decisi ed esperti con lo Shecker.
Si chiama Faye, è giapponese ed è la Bar manager. Qui non si fanno bevute mi spiega, si preparano veri cocktail, elisir di puro gusto non solo per il palato ma anche per gli occhi. I prodotti usati sono solo i migliori, le dosi studiate, rigorose e, in alcuni casi, segrete.
Anche gli arredi non sono un caso: le nuance del legno, delle luci, della tappezzeria, il metallo invecchiato sopra il bancone...tutto è pensato per catapultarti nell’atmosfera in cui chi sta dietro il bancone non è un elemento ma protagonista.
Ormai immersa nel gioco ordino un Charlie Brown, tanto ben presentato che quasi mi dispiace berlo. L’amico fa Humphrey Bogart e chiede il solito, precisando poi però uno “Stormy Weather”. Quando vedo che Faye glielo serve su un sottobicchiere su cui è stampato uno spartito, Stormy Weather appunto, capisco perchè ha scelto quello. Stiloso anche nei cocktail, lui.
Che dire? In un posto così, così pieno di personalità, dove le luci non sono laser e la musica agevola invece di impedire, la conversazione, il tempo scorre piacevolmente, rilassato. Ma purtroppo inesorabile.
Poco più di un’ora dopo, mentre in taxi rientro in albergo, mi chiedo se è stato un sogno. Poi guardo la carta da gioco con sopra Charlie Brown & C. E mi convinco che sì, è successo. E se un giorno avessi la possibilità di tornarci, non avrò problemi: l’indirizzo me lo sono segnato sul retro di Stormy Weather...
Come? Lo volete anche voi l’indirizzo? Neeeeeee, troppo facile, dovete chiedere a Stig...
Curiosi? Vi aspetto al prossimo post...
xx
C
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