Death of a cocktail bar

My favourite cocktail bar has vanished.

I was in Brighton last night, visiting a friend, and I dragged him and his girl to the spot where I thought Zoot Street was meant to be. I kept walking up and down Queen's Road in the hope I'd somehow mislaid it. Eventually a shopkeeper told me it had closed six months ago and I had to admit defeat.

So now there's nothing left but slightly hazy memories, and a bunch of reviews still floating about in cyberspace like so much ethereal junk.

Fortunately, we stumbled across Oki-Nami, a new-looking place apparently co-owned by Norman Cook, the DJ. We got seats on the little balcony upstairs with a great view of the newly-pedestrianised New Road and I ordered a cucumber martake, their "eastern" take on the martini, with sake, hendrick's gin, creme de lychee and a slice of cucumber (one of my five-a-day). It was good, although it should have been served colder, and it wasn't Zoot Street.

Fortunately I recently discovered (thanks, F&C) another, amazing bar which I'm sure will help me get over ZS's passing. It's called Raoul's, in Oxford's Jericho district, where I had my first Sazerac, the official cocktail of New Orleans, no less.

And thus the wheels of booze keep turning.