It’s a Miracle! A Christmas one!
You don’t even need to be wearing your cleverest of clogs – you know the ones, make your ankles pop – to know that Christmas is the most *checks notes* wonderful time of the year.
And in news fresh from the press release our lovely chums over at Covent Garden’s glittering Henrietta hotel (it really is props gorge) sent us, their annual boozy ode to the silliest of Santa seasons has just opened its tinsel-laden doors. It’s called Miracle at Henrietta, it’s a Christmas cocktail bar, the kitsch is off the scale – even those scales! – and this year the kitsch has a 70s kick to it, which is a relief, really, as that ceiling garland – you know, the one with the foil peeling off a bit – has barely seen the light of day. It’s like walking into your Aunty Jean’s semi in 1977 after she’s spent all her fag money at Woolies. Which was a very good year for music, seeing as you ask.
And all the cocktails have a Christmas kick, too. It’d be silly otherwise. So there’s the Christmopolitan (vodka, elderflower, vermouth, and absinthe mist) and Jingle Balls Nog (we totally know him!) and the Fruitcake Flip (brandy, Jamaican overproof rum, Amaretto, fruitcake, cherry bitters, whole egg) which we might have to skip ‘cause, fruit in things. Ew. And the Bad Santa (we totally know him!), which is a hot toddy of cider, sherry, cinnamon, and popcorn and bacon butter. We’re sure there’s a non-alcoholic one but, well, that’s like talking to yourself. There are nibbles, too. Nice ones.
All of Bethlehem is a-buzz.
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