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Lounging around
Sip and sit a spell at one of the Hub’s hip, low-key watering holes
BY RUTH TOBIAS
Where to find them

• Anthem, 138 Portland Street, Boston, (617) 523-8383; www.anthemboston.com.

• DeVille Lounge, 10 Scotia Street, Boston, (617) 266-2695; www.kingsbackbay.com.

• Living Room, 101 Atlantic Avenue, Boston, (617) 723-5101; www.thelivingroomboston.com.

• Lucky’s Lounge, 355 Congress Street, Boston, (617) 357-5825; www.luckyslounge.com.

• Rustic Kitchen, 1815 Mass Ave, Cambridge, (617) 354-7766; www.rustickitchen.net.

— RT

As described by Billy Strayhorn — who knew whereof he lyricized — the lush life unfolds in all "those come-what-may places" where "jazz and cocktails" set the midnight-blue mood. To us, such places sound like lounges. Not a bar, not strictly a nightclub, the true lounge must exhibit at least two, preferably more, of the following characteristics: 1) couches (or other such furnishings that allow one to engage in the namesake act); 2) a subterranean or otherwise windowless setting, connoting a lack of interest in — if not healthy antagonism toward — the efficient goings-on of the workaday world out there; 3) hours of operation that conform to the schedule of your average barfly rather than to that of your average decent citizen; 4) retro décor; and 5) a piano — preferably somewhat the worse for wear.

With those criteria in mind, we’d like to introduce you to some of our faves. If you’re in the area, swing by and say hi sometime. We’re bound to be around.

To assert that respectability has no place in the lounge setting is not to imply that all lounges are dives. Rather, if it’s true that the downscale lounge tends to manifest a more-or-less-endearing seediness, its upscale cousin wallows in edgy decadence. This expresses itself décor-wise in a fondness for LED panels and see-and-be-seen seating arrangements, à la 33 and Saint — of which the lounge at funky North Station eatery Anthem is an agreeably low-maintenance version. Sure, scenesters are bound to gravitate to the center of the rock-walled room, where plush-sofa "islands" form conspicuously around backlit pillars, but a more-casual scattering of banquettes and armchairs offers a haven to spotlight-shunners. A decidedly peculiar color scheme — juxtaposing plum and oyster-gray, russet and avocado — further dispels any humorless pretensions. Ultimately the vibe is as comfortable as it is clandestine. Meanwhile, a more sheerly elegant experience awaits upstairs in the lounge area of the restaurant proper, where diaphanous silver curtains offset jewel-toned love seats and low benches. All told, you might say Anthem’s chic shows a little cheek, and the best cocktails follow suit. Especially sophisticated, yet easy on the taste buds, are the rose martini ($9), whose splashes of Chambord and lemon juice only enhance the floral savor of Shaker’s Rose Vodka; the pomegranate martini ($9), tart and juicy with Belvedere Pomarancza and pomegranate juice (plus triple sec and sour mix); and the striking blood-orange cosmo ($9), blending Charbay Blood Orange Vodka with the eponymous juice, as well as spritzes of cranberry and lime. And don’t miss the Maker’s Mark infusion (also to be found at City Bar, where Anthem chef Robert Fathman does double duty); hints of caramelized fig, cinnamon, and vanilla can make even stuffy old bourbon seem sexy.

Somewhere near the airport in Oxnard or Omaha, there sits a small, decades-old roadside motor lodge. In that lodge is a cocktail lounge, dimly lit, near-empty, and quiet but for the sounds of canned laughter on the TV in one corner and an old love song — say, "Bluer Than Blue" — on the jukebox in the other. It’s to that sort of lounge that the DeVille Lounge, part of the Kings bowling-alley complex in the Back Bay, pays homage. And if you go there just as it’s opening, before the Gap-clad gaggles arrive, and seat yourself at the bar, you may even feel as though you’re in Oxnard or Omaha, awaiting a flight to, say, Oklahoma City, singing along under your breath, "You’re the only light this empty room has ever had ..." Yes, the décor at DeVille is that evocative, with its maroon walls lined with black-and-white portraits of long-gone starlets and boxers, its caramel-colored banquettes, and its two-tone swivel stools with vinyl piping. Of course, the cocktail menu reads "Libations"; and of course, for the full nostalgic effect, you must knock back a few, with feeling. Try, for instance, DeVille’s tarted-up take on a fog cutter ($10), which replaces the standard orgeat syrup with crème de noyaux and adds a splash of pineapple juice; or hit the zippy Ten-Pin Tea ($9), which spikes with rum a mixture of iced tea, ginger beer, minted simple syrup, and lime juice. Meanwhile, keep your eye out — you just might spot a kindred lonely heart, ready and willing to share a laugh and an ultra-rummy, almond-tinged Big Ball Bowl for Two ($26).

Depending on the light, the Living Room — with its dramatically draped picture windows and its color scheme of crimson and gold, stone and black — resembles variously the foyer of a Corsican villa, a Chinese lacquered jewelry box, and some campus faculty lounge where the professors meet each Christmas for wine and cheese and a bit of extramarital groping. What it doesn’t look like is your average American living room. Even so, it’s easy to feel at home here — especially on weekday afternoons, when, as at DeVille, you’ve got virtually the whole place to yourself. Just push aside the piles of pillows — plump, embroidered, fringed — and perch yourself in a velvet armchair, sprawl across a plush sectional, or curl up on a divan with a friend, a book, or even a portable board game; then settle in for a few hours of earnest lounging. To keep up your strength, you’ll want to order one of the Living Room’s specialty cocktails ($10.50). Often whimsically garnished (here a melon ball, there a brown-sugar rim), they range from shameless appeals to your nasty inner kiddie — such as the Chocolate Kiss, with vodka, Godiva liqueur, and milk, served in a chocolate-dipped martini glass — to more-refined bids for your attention, like the Rising Sun, which blends sake, plum wine, and Champagne with mango nectar and Chambord. And if your book starts to bore you or you’re losing the board game, lose yourself instead in whatever’s on the big-screen TV in the corner (usually Walker, Texas Ranger), or by watching the fish in the wall-mounted aquarium. In short, just veg — hey, this is your Living Room.

As a motif, retro cool is risky. Authenticity is paramount, since any trace of affectation reflects just as badly on the patrons as it does on the establishment they choose to frequent. If Lucky’s Lounge enjoys copacetic cachet, it’s not because of studied adherence to the Rat Pack theme, but rather by virtue of a good-natured laxity that itself seems in keeping with the aura of the era. Its unmarked location in Fort Point Channel speaks to the paradoxical glamour of the back street. The two-room interior emits a slightly shabby, shady vibe — think dim, heat-lamp-like lighting; bars lined with burgundy-vinyl swivel stools; and walls lined with booths, banquettes, and a modicum of memorabilia. It eschews most kitsch, and only the faux-wood paneling, a small electric fireplace, and a few of those backlit Marlboro-country landscapes bother to wink. Excluding live-music performances, the soundtrack favors the eternally cool (Al Green, Dylan) over the Vegas throwback. And as for service — well, let’s just say it’s leisurely in the off-hours, but nonetheless kindly. Be kind to yourself in turn and order a Lady Luck (raspberry vodka and raspberry liqueur, twisted with Sprite and fresh lime juice) or a snappy watermelon martini with citrus vodka, peach schnapps, Midori, and watermelon purée (all specialty drinks are $9). But be warned that until the pace picks up after five, you’ll be the only cocktail hound; beer is the drink of choice among Lucky’s midday smattering of flies in ties.

In the new Rustic Kitchen in Porter Square, the lounge area seems to have been an afterthought, occupying just a few square feet between the café and dining rooms. But as afterthoughts go, this is a smart one. The dark and cozy nook is library-esque, with muscular armchairs and ottomans in brass-studded brown leather, shelves lined with handsome knickknacks, and heavy ochre-and-claret drapery. Speaking of claret, there is of course a decent wine list here — which soon will feature the debut of Rustic Kitchen’s very own private label (Napa vintner Sequoia Grove has produced a cabernet-merlot-syrah blend exclusively for the restaurant, and plans to release a pinot grigio next year). But you’re here to lounge, not to sit and sip. For that you’ll need cocktails, such as the festive, punchy Bellinitini ($11), combining Stoli peach, fresh-peach purée, and prosecco; the Grape Santini ($11), a blend of grape-based Ciroc vodka and white-grape juice, garnished with frozen grapes and a purple-sugared rim; and the Italian Sunrise ($11) — which despite the name is better for bedtime than breakfast, containing both raspberry and citrus vodkas, Chambord, Cointreau, and limoncello (as well as fresh lemon and lime juices). Incidentally, chef Bill Bradley has just introduced an after-hours menu boasting all manner of savory snacks — raw-bar specialties, cicchetti such as fried, anchovy-stuffed olives and grilled squid with smoked paprika, and more. They’re just the things to pair with your pick of liver-picklers.

Ruth Tobias can be reached at ruthtobias@earthlink.net.


Issue Date: October 22 - 28, 2004
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