lavalounge.jpg

A weekly Voracious feature in which we walk into a bar unannounced and ask the bartender to make us his or her favorite drink.

Establishment:

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First Call: Lava Lounge

lavalounge.jpg

A weekly Voracious feature in which we walk into a bar unannounced and ask the bartender to make us his or her favorite drink.

Establishment: The Lava Lounge, 2226 Second Ave.

Barkeep: Zack or EZ, whatever you want to call him.

Liquid Courage: A Rainier and a shot of Cazadores

Holy shit, EZ, you don’t mess around: Well, you asked me what I would get if I were you, so here it is.

When you ask a bartender to make his or her favorite drink, they usually try to show off and the result is lots fruity syrup. EZ, on the other hand, doesn’t stray from his ideals, but doesn’t kick out the creativity either. He took this tried-and-true drinking man’s combo and made it his own. The key? The orange covered with cinnamon in place of the lime and salt.

Listen boss, I appreciate you forgoing the fruity-ass foofoo drinks here but I’m a bit skeptical of oranges and cinnamon: I hate limes and salt. Try it, you’ll like it.

So, down the hatch with the tequila, control the gag reflex, and chomp down on the orange and cinnamon. This is usually the part where I’d suck in a bunch of air, stick out my tongue and holler, God DAMN! But the orange and cinnamon take care of business and just like that, the bite’s gone. And unlike salt and lime, it actually tastes good. So now, it’s time to bump elbows with the regulars, sip the Rainier, and take it all in.

The Lava Lounge is one of the last holdouts of old Belltown. As my buddy puts it, “It’s the last place in Belltown that doesn’t suck,” which, in my opinion, is quite true. You’ve seen Belltown: all trendy furniture and dress to impress, fake hair and fake bank accounts. EZ on the other hand, with his cue-ball cranium, beard, chopper T-shirt, and tat sleeves, wouldn’t fit in anywhere else in this neighborhood. The Lava Lounge is metal, both on the stereo and in the air. It’s darkly lit and what’s visible is vaguely Tiki -- torches, boats and the like -- but plenty of gnar and dark colors to keep the place Seattle. The rest of it, like EZ, doesn’t fit in Belltown either: wooden tables polished smooth by years of elbows and bathrooms labeled "guns" (guys) and "roses" (girls). Then there’s EZ, and his tats.

What’s on your arms? Skulls and shit. Why skulls? I got lots of flowers and stuff all over the rest of my body. I wanted something mean.

Skulls, Cazadores, and Rainier, huh? I think you got plenty of mean, brother. Yup, you want another one?

 
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