I zone out on the banter, and the music becomes a fading background noise as I take my first sip of my long-awaited martini. It'd better be good — it's $7 in the new joint! The inaugural sip hits my lips, and the first thing that comes to my mind is cold, rancid olive juice with loads of vermouth. I grimace, and almost spit it out. (Perhaps, the bourbon has messed with my taste buds.) I give it another big gulp and choke it down. What the hell is this? My friend asks me what's wrong, and I reply, "This is the worst martini I've ever had!"

She can't believe it, but when it comes to booze, she knows I'm always right. I rarely ever turn back a drink, but in this case, I call over the barkeep and tell her something is seriously wrong. She takes it from me and shyly retorts, "I'll give it another try."

I stop her with a quick, "No. Just bourbon, please." In the words of the great master Yoda, "Try not. Do or do not. There is no try."

Chez Nous: Grainy as it ever was.
Tom Carlson
Chez Nous: Grainy as it ever was.

Details

Pig Points: Darkness, no windows, cash only, great patio/smoking area; kool bands, wallpaper and booths like those at the old haunt; broken water feature; big parking lot (either to get a blowjob or for ease of getting out without accidentally hitting another car); photo booth, so you remember where you were last night.
Pig Shit: Zero martini-making knowledge (either change the sign or the bartender); no condom machine, no soul — not yet.
602-266-7372, »web link
Hours: Daily, noon to 2 a.m.

Think Booze Pig blows? Want to tip him? Write to »e-mail link
Chez Nous, 915 Grand Avenue

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I come to find out that the barkeep, as she spins it, is the main gal on their busiest nights, Thursday to Sunday, and that she attained her great knowledge of mixing drinks at her last gig . . . at Famous Sam's. Both our jaws drop, and I figure the barkeep is pulling my leg. The idea of having a Famous Sam's bartender who can't make a martini at the legacy of one of Phoenix's oldest, most famous dives is the equivalent of going to the Super Bowl with a high school quarterback.

We sit in the dark (pun intended) for a while longer, listening to a great band with lots of soul, and I silently wonder if this place will find its soul again. I sure hope so, because the place is fucking cool and, frankly, I still remember the great blowjob she used to give me. I'm still in love — in love with the way she rocked my world.

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Love the Dark
Love the Dark

The previous commentor is waaay off. For one you can be a dive and be cool but Chez Nous is not a dive and it is very cool. The Booze pig may be correct about a bad Martini but Chez Nous is not Ikea-ized. If the pig had been in the original location then he would know that the new location is a mirror of the old, and not a ikea version. Chez Nous is a landmark and it is great fun. Big deal, you got a bad Martini, who cares?? Hell, you could have been a man and politely instructed the bartender on how you like it. If you like it one way then just like at Subway you have to tell the person making it or you won't get it the way you want!Chez Nous is great for a date or just to relax. That is why it has won all the awards that it has! Hell, why wouldn't you put your awards and adulations up on the wall? This is probably coming from someone that hasn't won an award yet and doesn't know how it feels!Keep being a great bar Chez Nous!

Murray
Murray

Well, once again Booze Pig has enlightened my world through his words. I never knew that Phoenix could be so appealing, but this wordsmith crafts such a picture I am tempted to leave the frozen tundra of the Midwest and move to the SouthWest. I do, however, question this place and not sure I would go there based on the write-up. How difficult is it to make a martini: chill glass, pour gin (not vodka) in a chilled shaker, shake, pour into empty chilled glass and consume. If you want to get fancy sure put an olive or garnish in, but why bother? And just wave the cap of the vermouth bottle over the drink. All vermouth does is get in the way of the gin. Done.

I digress, I just pause when I think of the pro bartender flubbing a 'tini. Also, this place with it bad mix of IKEA, big stuffed pillows, yet, it has the moving beer sign, is confused on its identity. Be one or the other, but you can't be hip and a dump. If you strive for both one becomes tragically hip and then just laughed at and mocked. Here's a suggestion: Martini: $5 Ginger Ale and whiskey: $3.50. The glasses should be 5 oz and the width of a standard juice glass. And yes, the booze pig's cock is bigger than that.

Why am I so unhappy? Because, the Booze Pig is unhappy. I don't like this place at all. Who's the NY Times writer? Hottie?

cheers,

Murray

 

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