Like many other new adherents, this summer Capri Club joined my shortlist of favorite actual bars, which includes Thunderbolt in Echo Park, Everson Royce Bar in downtown’s Arts District and Genever on Beverly Boulevard in Westlake. There was the tequila-spiked cherry limeade at Saffy’s and the perfect gin martini at Bar Moruno (which I’d argue is more restaurant than bar) that Dave Kupchinsky made from a stronger formula of Beefeater he stockpiled before it was discontinued. The scene could have been anywhere in the world.Īt Causita, the winner was the Girl From Lobitos - cachaça, Oaxacan rum, vermouth, passion fruit, ginger, lime juice and shiso foam, resembling a green smoothie but far in taste from any juice bar cliché. The patio misting system was going full-blast, and it turned the view of the cityscape beyond into a bright, watery blur. I stood close by with five or six others in the near dark, waiting to order drinks and looking out toward the street.
It was happy-hour time.ĭusk had already reached the bar’s farthest corner - the one with the most coveted of the four leather booths, where the wood paneling meets a wall mural depicting a mountainous curve of the Italian coastline. At the room’s center, shadows had started inching along the semicircular bar and the two dozen people gathered around it only half of them were lucky or aggressive enough to grab one of 12 stools. Up front, along the tables on the sidewalk and just inside the open picture window, the crowd still had the air of day-drinking: Most people sipped punch-red spritzes or Negroni slushes the color of orangesicles. Around a quarter to seven on a recent Wednesday evening at Capri Club, the sun had nearly set behind the apartment buildings across the street, and the changing light was creating microclimates in ambiance around the bar.
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