Adam Handling is a name synonymous not just with blistering talent in the kitchen, but with a Midas-like approach to hospitality. A flagship restaurant in Covent Garden? Check. A gastronomic bolthole in Cornwall? Naturally. A pub? Of course. And why stop there; add to the mix a chocolate shop and you begin to understand that where most chefs are content with one expression of their craft, Handling creates a constellation.
So, it comes as little surprise that there’s a cocktail bar in the mix, too.
Though “comes as little surprise” is doing a disservice to Eve. Tucked beneath The Frog in Covent Garden, Eve Bar has been quietly enchanting the cocktail cognoscenti for a while now. It’s dark, intimate, discreetly opulent. A hidden alcove for no more than a dozen or so lucky souls. And therein lies its magic, it’s about word-of-mouth whisperings, not billboard fanfare.
This summer, they’ve released The Garden of Eve: Chapter IV – a menu that reads like a mythical reverie; a cocktail compendium where each drink showcases a singular botanical or fruit. Think Eden via mixology, where each concoction reimagines a classic, through Eve’s lens of fermentation, foraging, and ferocious creativity.
First up, Raspberry. It’s a riff on a Negroni, yes, but silkier, richer. Sapling raspberry and hibiscus vodka provides the fruit-forward punch, mellowed by Luxardo Bitter Bianco and white vermouth. But what elevates this is the cocoa butter fat wash; a decadent whisper of chocolate that comes through with each sip, wrapped around a crystal-clear, embossed ice cube. At first medicinal, it morphs into fruit and bitterness in perfect tension.
Equally seductive is Cherry. It wears the suit of a Manhattan but strolls through a Kyoto garden in springtime. Cherry Macallan 12YO, cherry bitters, and not one but two cherry vermouths – red and blossom. Deep, complex, and charmingly nostalgic; you half expect a jazz record to start playing when you take a sip.
This being below The Frog, Handling’s hand in the snacks is unmistakable. Case in point, the bitesize mushroom tart: an umami-rich crunch bomb that could go ten rounds on any fine dining menu. Then there’s the ‘chicken’ bread: warm, crusty rolls paired with liver parfait, chicken butter, and gravy – a dish that confirms Handling’s place as the spiritual heir to Blumenthal, with less theatre, more soul.
But Eve isn’t just a cocktail bar with good snacks. It’s a place where ingredients are cycled and recycled with ingenuity. Surplus or off-cuts from The Frog kitchen filter into the bar’s bar food, and what doesn’t make it into dishes finds new life in the cocktails. The result? Culinary synergy at its finest.
Nowhere is this more evident than in the savoury doughnuts. Prawn, cheese, and lamb – each one molten and mercilessly moreish. The cheese? Like Welsh rarebit stuffed into a fluffy cloud, finished with a Parmesan snowdrift. Larman tried the lamb and continued the wintry metaphor, waxing lyrical about how it was “deep and crisp and even”. It may be sinful, but I dipped the last bite in the leftover chicken gravy – and it was divine.
Then, the centrepiece: a chicken ‘sandwich’ presented under a ceramic chicken cloche of smoke, resembling a terrine masquerading as a club sandwich. It arrives with a flourish, but it’s all flavour and no gimmick.
To cut through the richness, I go Gooseberry, Eve’s take on The Last Word. Sharp, citrusy, and herbaceous, it swaps Maraschino for gooseberry liqueur, and standard Chartreuse for an in-house creation. Sapling Gin and lime round it out, resulting in something brisk and invigorating – a palate-flicking high note. Apricot, meanwhile, is summer in a glass, a light, crisp spritz of Boatyard Gin, Sahara spirit, and fig-orange soda lifted by a splash of elderflower English sparkling wine.
Now, it wouldn’t be Tipples piece without a nod to a post-prandial pick-me-up. The Coffee, described simply as “dessert in a glass,” is a revelation. An Espresso Martini made with Mr Black, amaro, butter-washed Papa Salt gin, and – brace yourself – a cloud of tiramisu foam. Inspired by barkeep Mario’s mother’s take on the dessert, you don’t sip this so much as dive into it. Each mouthful is like falling into a feather pillow laced with booze and caffeine.
For the finale, Miso, their Old Fashioned. If you look at the ingredients, it simply shouldn’t work. Roasted miso and clarified turnip syrup, with not one but two Highland Parks – 12 and 18-year-old, and topped with a crisped sage leaf. But it does work. Oh, it does. It’s the sort of drink you ponder; savoury, layered, and meditative, and sip in a private listening room lined with vinyl and velvet, where the playlist is all Miles Davis B-sides and the world slows to 33 RPM.
Barkeep Mario deserves his own round of applause; equal parts guide, raconteur, and mixological mind-reader, he walks you through the menu with ebullience, fine-tuning your flight like a sommelier of spirits, gauging and guiding selections that perfectly match mood, taste, which to have when, how they complement the food. Handling clearly not only has talent in the kitchen, but attracts talent into his orbit everywhere.
What’s most tantalising is that this is merely Chapter IV. Eve’s garden is growing. The narrative continues. And if this menu is anything to go by, Chapter V won’t just be eagerly awaited, it’ll be inevitable.
The Garden of Eve is available now at Eve Bar, 34-35 Southampton Street, London WC2E 7HG. Bookings recommended, especially if you want a seat among the twelve.
