One balmy evening, full of jetlag and in dire need to wake up for a Pharcyde concert, I strolled around Shoreditch in search of a cure. I found it pretty instantly at The Cocktail Trading Co. in Shoreditch. The window open to the street featured a dino head AND peacock feathers, so I knew it would be perfect.
The beer menu made me laugh.
While this wasn’t my drink, I was intrigued by a pink cocktail with a creme brulee perched on top.
For me, an espresso martini was in order. Ok, maybe two thanks to the birthday party next to me who insist I join in their festivities. They were English ambassadors they said; really, I think they were not amused by my Saturday night book reading at a bar. Thanks to them, I learned a few new English phrases and that men can also be called Loren.
A couple of the birthday boys.
Solid spot in Shoreditch that I’d recommend to anyone in the area. I even ran into the bartenders a couple nights later who had to inquire about my random evening. A neighborhood staple, for certain.
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