It’s safe to say any Catholics in the crowd at last night’s Bénédictine party were sufficiently offended. The fete’s faux-monastic theme felt rather Eyes Wide Shut to the casual observer: Sexy monks in clingy robes (is that an incense burner in your pocket?) roamed about a cavernous room at Latrobes in New Orleans’ French Quarter. Barely dressed human statues dangled bottles of B&B (Benedictine and brandy) and two plastic replicas of wax seals acted as tokens, redeemable for an übersweet punch and a fortune-telling (ours: we’re a peasant who will live long and work hard. Prescient indeed).
Ever the geek, we’d have preferred a class about the history of the mysterious French liqueur to the orgy-at-any-moment vibe proffered by last night’s bacchanal. And it wasn’t until after 11pm that we spotted NYC talent rolling in: Don Lee of Momofuku Ssäm Bar, Jim Meehan (PDT), booze man at large Allen Katz, Jason Littrel of the Randolph at Broome and all manner of dolled-up local press reps.
It’s said that the key to surviving Tales of the Cocktail is taking it easy on Tuesday night, so we turned in early—things just get nastier from here.
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