Sidecar

Sidecar has consistently made it to best bars of Asia lists, and there are several reasons why. We’re not gonna stick to those. Instead, bear with the ragged synapses of my brain that have been built up over my several good times here, because there’s much more to this M Block royalty than technical craft.

The music

I'm not being hyperbolic when I say they play better music than most bars in Delhi. And I know that sounds like a thing one says, but stay with me. Most bars treat music like a texture, something filling the silence. Some places get too precious about it, going full coffee-shop jazz. But at Sidecar, they’re doing something right. 

Show up at 5.30, and you're in slow jazz territory. Not dirge-y, more like patient, setting you up. As the evening pulls in, the pace picks up, and you don't notice it happening. By 11, they have raging blues going, but it never overpowers conversation. Usually American blues and jazz from until the 90s… I don't think I've ever heard anything beyond that. They've got this absurdly extensive playlist, so repeat visits don't mean repeat songs. 

The cocktails

The menu keeps changing (barring some classics), mind you, but it's always done with a (not overdone) concept in mind. I tried rifling through Google to jog my memory about their latest ones, but I think it’s best I left it to the honest bits. There was this Authors menu early on: drinks supposedly favored by Philip Larkin, Tolstoy, Mark Twain, that sort of thing. (The Mark Twain drink was ported, almost aggressively.) Then came a much-adored Dear Delhi menu, which was actually just exploring the drinking traditions of the city itself.  I won't pretend to remember all of them because truth be told, the menu's deep enough that you could go a dozen times and keep finding things. Get a friend who isn’t paralysed by decisions, please. A few drinks of the past have stuck with me so far.

The Cilantro is something I think about when I'm not at Sidecar. Bright green pudina chutney (which I happen to otherwise despise) in alcohol, improbably glorious. Nutty Soda is a gin-and-peach situation with some nut thing happening that keeps you guessing. I don’t have it in me to be a misanthrope about the crowd-favourite Potter’s Touch, because it really is worth the hype. From the classics, also: Ceylon, which ambitiously combines smoky vodka, miso coconut liqueur, cold brew and truffle, or the Myrtle, a mix of St Remy VSOP, myrtle leaf cordial, and lime. Or the cute sticker-adorned Enchanté.

The food

I'm going to level with you. Sidecar is not where you go to eat. They're reworking their kitchen constantly (ramen, fried rice, all of that) and it's competent, but food is just the thing you do while you're drinking here.

That said, their pork belly is some of Delhi’s best. Fatty, crisp-skinned…which carries over to the jerk chicken too. There are also these super bloody good masala peanuts, sweet and spicy, that they aggressively guard the recipe to. 

I also want to mention the winter menu. (Most bars stick to seasonal-izing just their cocktails.) Everything becomes thicker, richer, warmer. There's this white pork gravy situation that a friend had once and has been trying to find again. I've basically memorised what it looks like from his words because we need to know what it's called next time we go. Ask the people at the bar and they'll track anything down for you. 

Where to drink: the terrace and the bar counter

By late evening, Sidecar’s rooftop is a parallel party. People bring speakers, guitars. Someone I don't know the official title of – the owner's friend? A very committed regular? – sometimes shows up with a speaker and offers the terrace his vinyl collection. There are singalongs, and dancing, all on that tiny rooftop. And any Sidecar regular knows you’re bound to get into some whacked conversation there. It's intimate and spontaneous, a rare feeling for a cocktail bar.

They also have live bands sometimes. I'll be honest, I haven't been impressed by the ones I’ve seen. But that's fine, not really the point.

The place to perch your bags at first though has got to be the bar counter. There are bars where you sit at the counter and it feels like you're waiting for a real table… not here. Eight bartenders could move around in that counter without elbowing each other, which matters because they do international bartender exchanges. Some nights, the counter becomes actual theatre, with flair and flame. But that’s not why you sit. The counter is a privilege. You chat with the bartenders, and as you get progressively drunker, you see exactly why the tables should be an afterthought.