"Despite great cocktails, I’d rather sip beer where something’s actually happening"

Added Tue 07 Jul 2009 by Leila

The uncomfortable furniture was my first niggle. The tables were too low for the benches, I had to slouch forward and felt like I was sitting in a high chair, feet dangling. The chairs however were too low so those of us on benches found ourselves constantly looking down at those sat opposite.

I have wandered into Chocolate twice on a Friday after work and have promptly had to leave as it was too crowded. An encouraging sign, we booked a table for a Saturday evening. It was far less busy, there was also far less atmosphere. In fact, there was none. Everyone seemed to be cautiously sipping their soft drinks and talking quietly so as not to create noise. If I closed my eyes I could have been in the local library, or a school’s parent’s night.

To give the bar credit their cocktails are made to a very high standard. My Bar Chocolate Martini was so truly wonderful I refused to drink anything else in case it paled in comparison; the venue had already let me down with the ambience and furniture. Vodka, Crème de Cacao and grated chocolate round the rim of a martini glass, it was heavenly. My friends’ Chocolate Raspberry Martini was also naughtily tasty, a blend of vodka, Chambord and chocolate liquor.

The staff do seem intent on satisfying the customer, and our waiter was deeply apologetic for making us wait for our drinks (which we hadn’t really noticed, other than they each arrived separately) and brought us three limoncello shots as an apology whilst promising it wouldn’t happen again.

Feeling peckish we ordered a Mediterranean board to share which had grilled chorizo, large pieces of authentic Greek feta, hummus, olives, and two types of bread. The large platter was enough for all five of us to graze on, just as well as it cost £11.50. Cocktails aren’t particularly cheap either, at £8 it’s amazing how easily you can rack up a hefty bill.

On the whole Chocolate is unimpressive; I’d rather sip a beer where something’s actually happening. I was also distinctly unimpressed when another member of staff dropped the card reader with my card inside, then said he would “be back in a minute”. “Has he broken it?” one of my friends asked. Luckily for both of us, he hadn’t. “Don’t drop it again” I said only half-joking as he inserted the card into the machine for a second time.

When we left he was standing outside smoking and winked at me as I walked past, mistaking my intimation for flirtation. At least there was one anecdote to take away from the place…