Fancy cocktails have a funny way of making perfectly reasonable people come up with increasingly unreasonable ideas.
My friend had already decided Baijiu was our second destination for the evening, and after one cocktail each, we came to the obvious conclusion that five drinks seemed like the appropriate sample size.
Don't judge us.
We're committed to the craft.
About two drinks in, we discovered a problem we hadn't anticipated. Every cocktail was so different that the flavours kept bulldozing each other. One minute it was bright citrus, the next it was smoke, herbs, then spice. Our taste buds didn't know what they were supposed to be doing anymore.
So we asked Jake if there was such a thing as a cocktail palate cleanser.
Without hesitation, he disappeared and came back with a bitters and soda.
It worked perfectly.
The fact that he didn't even blink at our ridiculous request told me everything I needed to know. Jake knew the menu inside and out, genuinely enjoyed talking about the cocktails, and had the kind of confidence that makes great customer service look effortless.
We were sitting close enough to the DJ that I eventually had to ask the bouncer whether our server's name was Jay or Jake.
Turns out it was Jake.
It could've been the music.
It also could've been a side effect of being over 30.
The man had charisma.
Every recommendation came with enough effortless confidence that we couldn't decide whether he was an incredible salesman, an even better bartender, or just flirting with both of us.
Honestly, it might've been all three.
We started with the Mango Tango.
It wasted no time reminding me why tequila has the reputation it does. Bright, refreshing, and carrying just enough bad decision energy that ordering another felt like the only logical choice.
Then came the Trilla in Manilla, which ended up being one of my favourites.
That tiny cucumber garnish isn't there because someone thought it looked nice. Pull it out and the drink becomes something completely different. Not in a bad way, just… different. It's amazing how much work one little slice of cucumber is doing.
The Tom Yummy Margarita was where my vocabulary disappeared.
One sip.
"Oh… shit."
That's all I had.
This thing doesn't ease you into the evening. It grabs you by the hand, drags you into a back alley, and you're never quite sure whether it's about to kiss you or bend you over a dumpster.
Either way, you're probably ordering another.
Then there was B-A-N-A-N-A-S.
I spent the entire drink waiting for the banana to arrive.
It must've gotten caught in Edmonton construction.
Instead, I got something closer to a light, spritzy lemon water.
I finished it hoping the banana would eventually show up.
It never did.
The Okinawa Nitro Espresso Martini was exactly what I hoped it'd be.
If coffee wore a velvet velour suit.
Smooth as fuck.
By this point we'd finished our drinks, paid the bill, and figured the night was over.
Then Jake walked back to the table carrying two more glasses.
"I’ve got one more for you guys to try."
On the house.
That's how we ended up with the Henny & Green Tea.
This one was a conundrum before we even took a sip.
It arrived in two separate glasses with absolutely no instructions. We looked at the drinks, looked at each other, shrugged, and unanimously decided,
"Guess it's a drop shot."
So we sent it.
First came the Hennessy.
Then the green tea.
Maybe that's exactly how it was intended to be enjoyed. Maybe we completely butchered the experience. I genuinely don't know, and I'd love for someone at Baijiu to tell me if we accidentally missed the point.
The flavours matched the name perfectly, so I can't accuse it of false advertising. It just wasn't my thing. Hennessy and green tea is an acquired taste, and it's one I don't feel the need to acquire.
Thankfully, my experiment in questionable beverage choices came free of charge.
As for food?
Who needs food?
The cucumber garnish technically counts as a vegetable.
Baijiu leans into a dark, moody atmosphere with a DJ spinning newer hip-hop beneath an enormous Biggie Smalls portrait.
I spent the evening looking at Biggie while listening to music that wasn't Biggie.
It felt like false advertising.
Between the inventive cocktails, the atmosphere, and Jake somehow making us feel like ordering palate cleansers between cocktails was a perfectly normal request, Baijiu gave us exactly what we were looking for.
A night of trying drinks I'd happily order again, one I'll happily leave for someone else, and one that still has me wondering if we drank it correctly.