Hotel Bars Pour for the World Posh Pubs Include More Sophisticated Patronsóand Drinks by Sanjay Talwani There are hundreds of places in Washington to get a drink. And for thousands of visitors, the quickest and easiest choice is at the bar in the very hotel theyíre staying. Some dismiss hotel bars as quick stops to make before heading out to other, more visible bars. But here, the endless stream of visitors and the abundance of large, high-end hotels means that hotel bars are destinations in their own rightófrom trendy lounges with daring dÈcor to classic rooms filled with dark woodwork, impressive supplies of single-malt scotches, and the feel of English gentlemenís clubs. Here, local regulars can mix with the international set, patrons donít have to battle each other to get the bartenderís attention, and people can talk to one another without shouting. ìWeíre a neighborhood bar to the world,î said Chuck Englehardt, bartender at the Melrose Bar in the Park Hyatt Washington on M Street. His regulars include people who live in the neighborhood, those who stay at the hotel on frequent Washington visits, and other travelers who might not ordinarily go to a bar alone but do go to their hotel bar without a seco nd thought. Here, strangers chat with strangers with ease: ìA hotel bar is very, very different,î said Englehardt. For many visitors, the hotel bartender might be the first person in the city they chat with. Bartenders serve as tour guides and city planners in addition to the typical roles of psychologist, confidante and news, sports and weather guy. ìTheyíre looking for a lot more in a hotel bartender,î said Englehardt. ìI frankly think we should get checks cut from the chamber of commerce.î In the Melrose, as in many other hotel bars, the atmosphere is more subdued and less crowded than in some of the youthfully hip spots in Dupont Circle, Adams Morgan or Capitol Hill. Music typically comes from a tuxedo-clad jazz combo or a group that attracts a dancing crowd. The Melrose Bar at the Park Hyatt and the adjoining restaurant are not flashy, and the bar hasnít been renovated in more than a decade, an eternity by industry standards. Like many hotel bars, the atmosphere changes almost nightly, reflecting what nations or industries are visiting town. It may be the cast and crew of a movie shoot one day and a wedding party the next. A much newer bar is the International, which opened in October in the fabulously 1960s-style Washington Plaza hotel in Thomas Circle. Back in the í60s, the hotel strived to emulate the vibe of that new icon of sophisticated hipness, James Bond, according to bartender Jeff Henriquez. Now, Bond movies run most of the time on widescreen televisions in the bar, and the place has what Henriquez calls a ìneo-retroî look, with foam-filled furniture in funky shapes and colors that one might have thought were lost forever. ìIn the í60s, it was the hottest hotel in the city,î said Henriquez, a graduate student in art at Howard University. ìThat was the era of the martini.î Agent 007 might have liked his martinis shaken not stirred, but at the International, he can order them from a menu that includes flavors such as chocolate mint, goldfinger (with real gold flakes) and more. Henriquez himself has invented six martinis, including ìJungle Fever,î a hearty concoction that goes down like honey. The proliferation of new martini styles, bartenders say, jazzes up hotel bars and nurtures the reputation of both bar and bartender. Martinisóthat being a polite term for dressed-up shots of premium vodka, with little resemblance to the gin-vermouth-olive version of the pastónow come in two sizes. The larger is served in something akin to a small cereal bowl on top of a thin stem and costs north of $10. This new variety attracts lots of 20- and 30-somethings with older drinkers more likely to stick to the basics. The martinis, and in particular the unquenchable thirst for cosmopolitans, have been at the forefront of a re-emergence of hard liquor in bars over the past decade, say many bartenders. ìIn the late í80s and early í90s, you were lucky to serve any type of liquor,î said Englehardt. Then, during the Clinton years, conspicuous consumption followed the rising economy into its cigar-bar heyday. Now, a segment of drinkers arenít content with the scotch and waters or Heinekens that their parents used to order. ìThey want color, texture, flavor, razzle-dazzle,î Englehardt said. ìPeople go for the glass. It makes you look like you know what youíre doing in a bar, even if what youíre drinking is red or green or blue.î With the fancy drinks has come quality. Forget about $10 buffalo wings: At the International, even the chips (warm, thick, with plenty of garlic) are about the best youíll eat anywhere. Appetizers include tidbits such duck quesadillas and scallops wrapped in bacon. Even in some more traditional atmospheres, the neo-martini has found a new niche. At the Town & Country Lounge in the Renaissance Mayflower Hotel on Connecticut Avenue, head bartender Sambonn ìSamî Lek offers a menu of 101 martini choices to a clientele that includes workers from local shops, such as ABC News and the White House. ìWeíre ëCheersí to the six-figure income crowd,î said Anthony Bonanno, the hotelís director of restaurants. Lek has become somewhat of a celebrity himself. He started at the bar 27 years ago after coming from Cambodia, where he returns every year to build schools, dig wells and do similar projects. Back at the bar, Lek knows his regularsóthousands of themóby name, and he sends Christmas cards to all of them each year. He performs magic tricks, heís been on the cover of both the ìFoodî and ìStyleî sections of The Washington Post, and heís been named bartender of the year and month by various trade magazines. The history of The Mayflower is hard to conceal. Opened in 1925, the hotel was the site of the celebration of Charles Lindberghís historic round-the-world flight, Franklin D. Roosevelt wrote his ìWe have nothing to fear but fear itselfî speech in the hotel, and former FBI director J. Edgar Hoover ate lunch there nearly every day for 20 years. ìThe history of the hotel goes hand in hand with the history of the country,î noted Bonanno. The Town & Country has a classic feel that will outlast trends, yet it has also responded to the demands of the times. Like many bars, it has different waves of regulars: Itís an after-work bar in addition to being a cool spot for a younger crowd later in the evening. Thatís the group more likely to order a martini with a name like ìRum Aroundî or ìThrilla in Vanilla.î Lekís signature martini, called ìSam I Amî (with Absolut Citron, cranberry juice and Amaretto), is a big seller. So too are his cosmos and other fruity fare, such as apple martinis. Others scoff at the martini trend, which Jim Hewes, bartender at the Round Robin Bar at the Willard Inter-Continental Washington, said is on its way out. The Willard knows longevity: The property was bought by Henry Willard in 1850, although the hotel shut its doors in 1968 for 15 years. ìIn order to establish a significance, you have to stay the same,î said Hewes, who has tended the bar since its reopening in 1986. ìYou have to honor your heritage.î Thatís not too say that the Willard doesnít pride itself on progressive service and presentation, but itís a place where a martini is made with gin and served straight and chilled. The Round Robin has a drink menu but instead of flashy shooters, it offers classics such as manhattans and mint juleps, which were first served in Washington at the Willard when Henry Clay brought the formula over from Kentucky. ìPeople are going back to the classic cocktails,î said Hewes. ìWashington is always about three years behind the real world.î The Round Robin Bar (which is, in fact, round) is a meeting place even more than a drinking place, explained Hewes. But being at the epicenter of Washington power means itís not usually ordinary folks who are the ones meeting. At George W. Bushís inauguration, for example, there were 50 separate parties in the hotel. Still stopping in are various politicians, foreign delegations, rival attorneys in Supreme Court cases, lawyers and lobbyists who travel like rock stars, and actual rock stars who just want a drink. It can get overwhelming for even experienced Washington celebrity spotters. Like any crowd, the drinkers at these bars share some of themselves with the people who pour their drinks. High-end bartenders follow a code of loyalty of sorts, hearing, seeing and speaking no evil about their guests. They want their high-profile guests to return and to avoid reputations as gossips. At the Melrose Bar in the Park Hyatt, Englehardt said that some years ago, when Michael Jackson and his entourage stayed at the hotel, a local radio station offered a cash prize to anyone who would reveal what hotel the King of Pop was in. No one told. Even more pressing was Ken Starrís investigation of Bill Clinton, whose adviser and friend Vernon Jordan ate regularly at the Park Hyatt. One day, investigators showed up at the homes of hotel workers trying to determine if the fabled insider had used his influence to land Monica Lewinsky a job with Revlon in exchange for her silence about her relationship with Clinton. The hotel stepped in and demanded that employees only be questioned with a hotel lawyer present. Englehardt was among those interrogated about Jordan and his dining partners, and whether he overheard any details that might help impeach the then-president. Ultimately, the bartenderís lips were sealed. Sanjay Talwani is a freelance writer in Arlington, Va.