I have never been a particularly religious person, but the concept of Lent has always fascinated me. For the uninitiated, Lent is a 40-day period (depends on how you count it, but the number 40 is a go-to in scripture) when some Christians, e.g. Catholics, engage in prayer, penance, repentance of sin, almsgiving, atonement and self-denial.

Chances are you have known someone who “gave something up” for Lent. Some fast, which is more strict than the practice of simply abstaining from something. I have known people who gave up chocolate, wine, and various other vices during Lent.

Being mostly secular and a pleasure-seeking hedonist, I’ve often wondered what it would be like to practice the opposite of Lent. What if, instead of giving up a vice for 40 days, I made it a point to succumb to that vice for 40 days? As the old saying goes, “Everything in moderation, including moderation.” (Oscar Wilde)

My thoughts went immediately to booze, which spurred the name “Bent,” instead of Lent.

So now that you know the backstory, here’s the plan:

Bent will occur in the months of December 2015 and January 2016. Bent does not coincide with Lent. During Bent, I will go to 40 bars in the Coachella Valley. The bars/restaurants may not be part of a national chain. I will have a different cocktail at every bar. If the bar makes a signature drink, I will order that drink. It is not necessary that the visits occur over 40 consecutive nights, as that just may not be possible, but I will visit 40 bars before I leave Palm Springs on February 1. I will write about each bar separately in consecutive order, and when Bent is completed I will compile all entries in one article.

Bottoms up!

Bar Number One

Bar/Restaurant: Lord Fletcher’s
Established: 1966
Area: Rancho Mirage
Typa Joint: Historic/Old School
Signature Cocktail: The Brandy Ice

Lord Fletcher’s is hands-down my favorite restaurant in the Coachella Valley. It hasn’t changed a bit since 1966, and as Anthony Bourdain said in his review, “That’s what I like about it.” Most significantly for me is that Francis Albert Sinatra loved the place.

Lord Fletcher’s is open Tuesday through Saturday. The valet parks your car every night of the week, busy or slow, even though there is a huge parking lot with ample and accessible parking adjacent to the building. It’s the little touches like that that make Lord Fletcher’s so cool.

The coat rack is full of gold and silver lame’ and faux and real fur. If you’re lucky you’ll arrive when Mr. Fletcher himself and his wife are there. They are in their 80s now, and he visits the restaurant every day. His son Michael Fletcher, a handsome, tall drink of water with a smooth baritone voice, literally grew up at the restaurant. He now runs the place, sometimes sharing his memories of Sinatra, politicos, dignitaries, and movie stars.

The table by the fireplace was Sinatra’s table. He did not care for the photo the restaurant hung on the wall in his honor, so one day the portrait that hangs there now was delivered to the restaurant.

Sinatra was known to toss $20 bills under the table, commenting that the cleaning crew would get quite a surprise in the morning.

Over at the bar, Andy has been with Lord Fletcher’s for 11 years. Michael, Andy’s predecessor, tended the bar for 30 years. There was one other bartender prior to Michael. In 45 years, Lord Fletcher’s has had three bartenders.The only way to describe Andy is superb. He remembers your name and your drink, tells a great joke, and entertains you with mechanized toys kept behind the bar. This time of year, most of them are holiday – themed. Behind the toys is an impressive collection of Royal Dalton figural mugs.

Andy knows everyone who walks through the door, and he makes introductions. By the time you leave Lord Fletcher’s, you feel a part of its family and community.

On my first visit, I took a photo of Sinatra on the wall, and Michael Fletcher immediately asked if I would like a photo with the portrait.Andy mentioned the Bourdain review, and he played it for me on the DVR as I sipped my cocktail. I was all ready to write my review when I realized I violated one of the few rules of Bent: I did not order the restaurant’s signature drink.

I returned last night to have Lord Fletcher’s signature Brandy Ice, an after-dinner treat of Brandy, crème de cacao, and vanilla ice cream. I got there just in time for happy hour, and two prime rib sliders with potato salad for $6.95 fit the bill. There were lots of patrons at the bar, and Andy introduced me around. I sipped a potent Mai Tai with dinner and chatted with Jo, a spirited and beautiful 80-year-old woman who danced with Sinatra and Spiro Agnew in the 70s.

I am so glad I returned to Lord Fletcher’s for that Brandy Ice, because Michael Fletcher regaled us all with some wonderful memories and stories that night. He recalled the times that he had to tell Sinatra that his table was not available. He laughed at the memory of one night, when he returned sheepishly and fearfully to Sinatra’s table, twice, to tell him that the money for the bill was short. Sinatra took it all with aplomb.

Michael told us that Frank never left his table to greet other stars; they always visited his table. The one exception was the night that Sinatra walked over and sat down with Lucille Ball. As for the general public and the hoi polloi, one of Michael’s jobs was to steer them away from Frank. One night Frank told Michael to allow an elderly woman to say hello. She told Frank she saw him 35 years before, in Pittsburgh, and how wonderful he was. He replied, “I remember! You looked beautiful that night!”

Then there was the night that Frank and astronaut Alan Shephard got behind the bar and sang “Fly Me to the Moon!” Can you just imagine???

Michael remembers a kind Sinatra – the man who gave the Fletcher family front row, center seats to his concert in London, addressing them first when he came onstage before even saying hello to his audience. When a busboy fell ill, Sinatra called the hospital and paid all the medical bills.

I chatted so long with Michael and Andy that the valet brought me the car keys so he could go home; I was the last car in the parking lot! (Mind you, this was 10:30 p.m.!) The Brandy Ice was on the house, and I floated home on a cloud of goodwill and great memories.

Bar Number Two

Bar/Restaurant: Melvyn’s
Established: 1975
Area: Palm Springs
Typa Joint: Old School
Signature Cocktail: Not Really (I had a gin martini)

 

 

This is my third trip to Palm Springs, and I have visited Melvyn’s each time. How can I resist? It was a Sinatra hangout. He and fiancé Barbara Marx had their pre-wedding dinner there. (NO, all you Trip Advisor and Yelp reviewers – they were not married at Melvyn’s, and their wedding reception was not held there. Get it right, will you?)

Did you know that Barbara was previously married to Zeppo Marx, one of the Marx Brothers? Anyway, I digress…

During the first trip, Maria and Bob and I had a lovely dinner. I was greatly entertained by the photos of famous people hanging in the bar and the book written by proprietor Melvyn Haber about the celebrities who have been to Melvyn’s (all proceeds from the book go to charity), including Lucille Ball, John Travolta, Cher, Mr. and Mrs. Bob Hope, Barry Manilow, Jerry Lewis, Joan Collins, Larry King, Liberace, Liza Minnelli, Frank Sinatra, Sidney Sheldon, Donald Trump, Gerald Ford, Goldie Hawn, and Arnold Schwarzenegger. I bought the book and kept one of the bar napkins with a dapper Sinatra printed on it as a memento.

On my second visit, my friend Jamie and I were in Palm Springs for PS Modernism Week and stopped by Melvyn’s for a cocktail. That’s when we met Maître D’ Brian Ellis, who gave us some solid recommendations for other places to visit and even gave us his phone number in case we had any questions. What a swell guy.

On this trip to Palm Springs I have been to Melvyn’s twice; on Thursday I took a walking tour of historic inns, sponsored by the Palm Springs Historical Society. The tour included the Ingleside Inn, built originally in the 1920s and temporary home of many a celebrity, in its day.

I returned just a few nights ago, on Frank Sinatra’s 100th birthday. I was there to toast Frank, to see the old place again before I wrote the Bent review, and to carry a message to bartender Mark Myrick, who has been bartending at Melvyn’s for 30 years; Andy at Lord Fletcher’s told me to tell Mark to stop by for a visit.

I arrived a little after 10:00 p.m., when Mr. Haber and Roxy were just leaving. I expected it to be packed in honor of Ol’ Blue Eyes, and also expected live music of the Great American Songbook variety, given the occasion. Well, it was not full, and there was DJ’ed music from the 60s, 70s, and 80s on tap (the piano player posted a sign which said he had laryngitis).

I sat down at the end of the bar closest to the front door, next to a woman of indiscernible age. That’s about the only thing she was hiding. She was in a dress cut down to there and cut up to here, with lots of sparkling jewelry. I hoped her tan was obtained in a booth and not poolside, for her skin’s sake. Her white-blonde hair had a hint of yellow, but maybe that was the bar lighting. She seem to know everyone, waving to the oposite side of the room on several occasions.

Having been to The Nest in Indian Wells recently, I felt this woman would have been much more in her milieu there. As my new friend Jo, a beautiful 80-year-old woman I met at Lord Fletcher’s said about The Nest, “When going to The Nest, pack your penicillin.”

The woman swayed and gyrated in her seat to the beat of each song, flirting with any man within a two-barstool radius. Within that radius sat Barney, who claimed to have been the drummer for Journey back of the 1980s. Google that shit – no one named Barney was ever in the band – 1980s or otherwise. By the way, I tried Barney as both a first name and a last name in my search.

When dealing with pathological liars, it has been my experience that everything they say has a kernel of truth in it; they spin and layer it from there. Perhaps Barney was a roadie or something like that. He added another layer, saying that he had just spoken to Steve Perry on the telephone a few days ago, and Steve was doing well. I wanted to break out in song, “Oh Barney, your lies, go on, go on.” (With apologies to the song “Oh Sherry.”)

With Barney to my left and Blondie to my right, flirting feverishly (a comment was made about swallowing, which sounded more like a sure thing than innuendo), I ordered a gin martini. It felt right for the occasion. I asked the bartender to make it pre-Prohibition style, with one shot of vermouth for every two shots of gin. By the way, that bartender was not Mark Myrick; Mark was not there on Saturday night.

The bartender actually argued with me a bit, being rather dismissive to tell you the truth. I think it was my blue hair. “We usually don’t put any vermouth at all in a gin martini.” Well, thank you for that “This is how we do it,” Montell Jordan, but just like Frankie, I’m havin’ it my way.

I eventually got the drink I wanted, when from behind came a familiar voice. I looked in the mirror behind the bar to see the reflection of Brian, the Maître d’. Brian helped me off with my coat, to the apparent dismay of some of those around me, given the tattoos on my shoulders. Brian asked me about them and introduced himself. I told him of my prior visits and thanked him for always being such a gentleman. He kissed my hand and thanked me.

Brian Ellis has been the maître d’ at Melvyn’s for 39 years. Here’s a photo of him with Barbara Marx:

Brian Ellis is the only thing that redeemed Melvyn’s for me that night. Frankly, I don’t think I need to go back, ever again. I’m sure it will continue on just fine without me, but it’s true what they say: You can’t go home again, and the third time is the charm.

Bar Number Three

Bar/Restaurant: Blue Coyote Grill
Established: 1992
Area: North Palm Canyon
Typa Joint: Southwest/Tex Mex Restaurant
Signature Cocktail: The Wild Coyote Margarita

(Image below from the menu – too cute!)

My new friends John and Holly, Sun City and Seattle residents, recommended Blue Coyote for dinner and margaritas. They knew about Bent – my quest and pilgrimage to visit 40 bar/restaurants in the Coachella Valley before February 1. When I first formulated the rules of Bent, I decided that I could not have the same drink at any other bar or restaurant. They assured me it was not a waste to burn the margarita card at Blue Coyote. Besides, said Holly, as long as the next bar or restaurant makes the margarita differently, it’s not the same drink, is it? (I was relieved to relax this rule a bit, as one of my readers, Gina, told me I could not miss the margarita at El Jefe at the Saguaro Hotel. After all, I am in the California desert near the border of Mexico; there are going to be a lot of cool spins on the classic margarita around here!)

Opened in 1992, Blue Coyote is on North Palm Canyon Drive. Right now it is across the street from a massive construction site, so sitting on the patio isn’t picturesque at the moment. The whole space is bright and colorful, with murals by local artist Snake Jagger. One of my readers, Kelly Callaghan, recommended that I meet Snake while in Palm Springs, so it was a cool surprise to see some of his work.

But enough about all that – let’s get to the margarita! Blue Coyote’s signature drink is the Wild Coyote – gold tequila, lime juice, and orange curaçao.

Orange curaçao! Why didn’t I think of that? I have always been a bit of a margarita purest and snob. When it came to the orange, it was only Cointreau for me, never triple sec, which I dubbed “the poor man’s Cointreau.” I never cared for the flavor of Grand Marnier. In a pinch I would substitute Patron Citronge for Cointreau, especially as it is half the price of the French import. But orange curaçao? It never occurred to me. An extra added benefit of using curacao is that it’s madly inexpensive when compared to Cointreau or Grand Marnier.

The three of us started off with a single:

We enjoyed that so much we opted for a pitcher, a good deal at $47. (I was so busy drinking it I didn’t think to take a photo, so here’s a stock photo from the restaurant’s website.)

Thankfully we had a lot of walking to do after dinner, which included Village Fest and Robolights!

For dinner I had the Trio de Brochetas – one skewer each of chicken, shrimp & scallops, served over rice with jalapeño cream sauce. I have been dreaming of that dish ever since, and I must return to Blue Coyote to have it again before I leave. Once again, I was too busy scarfing it all up to photograph it, so here’s a photo from the website:

What a great experience at Blue Coyote, all the way around. I think I’ll buy a bottle of orange curacao before the trip to Mexico. I have a feeling I’ll find plenty of limes and tequila when I’m down there.

Bar Number Four

Bar/Restaurant: El Jefe
Established: 2012
Area: Deep Well-ish Neighborhood of Palm Springs
Typa Joint: Modern/Hipster
Signature Cocktail: The Charred Pineapple Margarita

Palm Springs got wise. You don’t need an already-cool space to make a modern marvel. Take the Saguaro Hotel.  Following in the footsteps of The Ace Hotel, which was once a Westward Ho/Howard Johnson’s, the Saguaro was formally a Holiday Inn. Add cool signage, a sprawling canopy entry, splashes of color, and modern furniture, and voilà.

The Saguaro also has two destinations for food and drink: Tinto, a tapas restaurant, and El Jefe.

On the advice of Gina, a blog reader, I stopped at El Jefe for its signature charred pineapple margarita. Fruit margaritas (strawberry, pineapple, or watermelon) at El Jefe can be made “Cantina Style,” with silver tequila, orange liqueur, and lime juice ($11), or “El Jefe Style,” with Don Julio Reposado, Combier and fresh lime (gulp! $15!).

I must admit I had not heard of Combier, which is an orange liqueur made in France since 1834 and was the country’s first triple sec. It has only recently become available in the United States market.

The bartender explained how the charred margarita is made. Pineapple is charred on the grill, then mashed into pulp. The result is absolutely freaking tasty.

And it’s no surprise that the drinks, and the food, are delicious. Iron Chef and James Beard award winner Chef Jose Garces is behind it all. My lunch of chorizo and camarones tacos was well – suited to the margarita.

The interior is rustic with just a hint of industrial. I visited at a time of day when it was rather  empty, but I imagine it is quite the hipster hangout at night.

I enjoyed El Jefe and the charred pineapple margarita, but 15 bucks is pretty steep.

Bar Number Five

Bar/Restaurant: The Purple Palm
Area: The Movie Colony Neighborhood Of Palm Springs
Established: 2007
Typa Joint: Renovated Old School
Signature Cocktail: The Purple Gang

Tucked away in the Colony Palms Hotel in Palm Springs, in lush gardens adjacent to the pool, is the Puple Palm restaurant. The hotel itself is also tucked away; if you’re driving down Indian Canyon you will miss it if you aren’t looking for it. There is no adjacent parking lot, no large signs to direct you. There is only a small valet sign, then a couple of steps into the hotel.

The restaurant is on the opposite side of the pool, and I arrived after dark. I caught a glimpse of private Moroccan style desert tents, but I was too busy looking for stepping stones and trip hazards to really take it all in. I am a sucker for ambience, but the path was a little too dark for my taste.

The restaurant’s name references the Purple Gang, a Prohibition-era mob syndicate out of Detroit, because gang member Al Wertheimer built the hotel in the 1930s. At that time it was known as the Colonial House. The speakeasy/brothel in the basement under the present location of the bar is used for storage.

The Purple Palm is not as purple as it used to be. I have seen photos of its earlier incarnation, with purple walls and purple chairs. Now, the space has a decidedly Moroccan influence, with French-style style café chairs that give it all a very eclectic and warm feeling.

My friends and I were in attendance on Saturday, December 12, 2015 – Frank Sinatra’s 100th birthday. The Purple Palm was celebrating with a special Frank Sinatra menu and a jazz singer who channeled Frank and the entire Rat Pack.

The Frank menu was pricey, so I opted for a nice dinner of beet salad and scallops, not particularly memorable but delicious.

I was thrilled to be dining and celebrating Frank’s birthday with Palm Springs local Burt Spivak, an erstwhile hotel owner who knew Frank and many other celebrities. Burt is now 90 years old, drives his own car, enjoys a good martini, tells a great story, and plays tennis several times a week. He and my adopted mom are members of the same tennis club. Meeting and conversing with him is one of the fond memories I will take with me from my winter in Palm Springs.

The Purple Palm takes its cocktails seriously. I was pleased to find a craft cocktail list, which included a drink called The Purple Gang.

I am a girl who loves a theme, so I ordered the drink. Made of vodka, lemon and muddled grapes with a float of Pinot Noir, it was surprisingly delicious.

We had a wonderful time at the Purple Palm, commemorating Frank Sinatra, enjoying good food and drink, and listening to the old standards.

Bar Number Six

Bar/Restaurant: The Nest
Established: 1965
Area: Indian Wells
Typa Joint: Old School
Signature Cocktail: The Burning Mandarin

The Nest has been a mainstay in Indian Wells since 1965, making it the oldest continuing bar and restaurant I have visited in the Coachella valley. (The Nest beats Lord Fletcher’s by one year.) It has two very distinct personalities: the dining room, and the bar.

THE DINING ROOM

The bar menu has an extensive selection of $7 entrées from 4:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m. nightly. (It is also available in the dining room for “early birds” from 4:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m.) One person in our party was not able to sit at the bar tables in the bar, so The Nest extended the bar menu prices to us in the dining room, even after 6:00. That’s a class act. The dining area is classic old-school, with large black booths, brick walls, white linen, leather chairs, and gilded mirrors.

Our waitress was superb. I was happy to find a cocktail list, and I opted for the Burning Mandarin – a fairly sweet concoction using Absolut Mandarin, jalapeño, and fruit juices. It was neither bad nor memorable.

My friends and I ordered several plates, sharing tapas–style. Everything we had was delicious, and at $7 per plate that is a bargain in the Coachella Valley.

THE BAR

I heard two things about The Nest’s bar before I ever set foot in it. The young man who came to fix my satellite dish, barely 30 years of age, told me that when he first arrived in Palm Springs, his friends told him to go to The Nest if he wanted to bag a “cougar.” (If you are not familiar with that term, it is already passe, so don’t bother to look it up!) The other tidbit I learned from Jo, a beautiful 80-year-old at Lord Fletcher’s, who advised wryly, “When going to The Nest, pack your penicillin.”

We finished our meal and headed through the bar to the restrooms. Things were already beginning to heat up in the bar, which has live entertainment seven nights a week. The median age of the patrons is somewhere in the 40s/50s.

It was subtle, and I did not notice it at first. Then I saw the large hooks dangling from the ceiling and circling the room. As people entered they hoisted themselves up onto the hooks, jerking and swaying along through the space, garnering attention from the spectators and scores from the judges.

A meat market! At our age?

Shudder.

I have not been looked up and down that much since college. The women surveyed me as potential competition. The men surveyed me as potential prey. Men wore their best polo shirt and khaki pants. Women sported tanning bed bronze skin, ridiculously high heels, and tight-fitting dresses.

My friends and I found the whole scene a bit depressing and surreal, so we opted not to stay for the live music. Though it wasn’t to our tastes, The Nest’s bar offers good times for aging Generation X’ers and straggling Baby Boomers, longing to re-live the “glory days.” It is certainly a great place to people watch!

Bar Number Seven

Bar/Restaurant: Trio
Established: 2009
Area: Design District of Palm Springs
Typa Joint: Modern
Signature Cocktail: The Stick Up

Trio is next door to the Shag store in the Design District area of Palm Springs, so it must be effing fabulousness! The restaurant is situated in a mid-century bank building. The decor did not disappoint, with whimsical lighting and a palette of white with large splashes of orange – one of my favorite colors. My family and I ate there before taking in a play at the Palm Canyon Theater.

Palm Springs restaurant prices can be sky high, so the Trio prix fixe three-course dinner for $19 was very refreshing. OpenTable rated Trio as one of the most-booked restaurants in Palm Springs. Trip Advisor rated it in the top 10 percent of restaurants worldwide, and it’s easy to see why. I opted for the baby beet salad, cod, and bread pudding. Everything was just wonderful.

Our waiter was a handsome young man who was very attentive, and interested in the way I ordered my pre-prohibition gin martini. When my mom Maria explained that I was on a quest to visit 40 bars in the Coachella Valley and that I was blogging about my experiences, he gave me a copy of the menu so I would not forget the details. Nicely done.

Martini out of the way, I ordered one of the cocktails from the specialty menu: the “Stick Up.” It was made with Death’s Door gin, lemonade, El Corazon tequila purée, and mint, yet it seemed to lack flavor somehow. The price seemed a bit steep at $12, especially considering that my entire meal set me back only $7 more.

Mediocre, pricey cocktail aside, I had a great meal and great service at Trio, and I hope to return before I leave the Coachella Valley.

Bar Number Eight

Bar/Restaurant: Shame On The Moon
Established: 1985
Area: Rancho Mirage
Typa Joint: Traditional
Signature Cocktail: The Mirage Moon

Shame on the Moon opens at 5 o’clock, and cars materialize in the parking lot a few minutes before the appointed time. Patrons queue before the double doors or sit on the bench outside. The doors open from the inside, and Shame on the Moon is ready for another evening of dining and cocktails. It’s been this way for 30 years.

If Shame on the Moon had a theme, it would be, “Why mess with a good thing?” The interior is reminiscent of the decade in which the restaurant opened.

The menu is chock-full of standards and mainstays. When was the last time you saw liver and onions on an upscale restaurant menu? The meatloaf is also a customer favorite, though it did get an update with veal as the main ingredient. Johnny the bartender prefers Bols triple sec to other orange liqueurs, and Rose’s lime juice is in the repertoire. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

(Photo of Johnny from the restaurant’s website)

Johnny and the restaurant have a loyal following, many of whom belly up to the bar and greet the other patrons as they pass, headed to tables and booths. On the evening of my visit, an aging patron who knew everyone by name told the tale of tripping over the cat, resulting in a fall and some broken ribs. Shame on the Moon’s customers are definitely approaching or already in the “fall risk” demographic.

You might think from reading thus far that this is a negative review, but it is far from it. Shame on the Moon has a recipe for success, and consistency is the key. The other customers were charming and friendly and interested in my Bent pilgrimage. Johnny had just returned from Texas and has a charming Texas accent. He is full of energy and takes great pride in his cocktails. I shared the photos I took of the restaurant to the approval of the regulars.

I wasn’t terribly hungry, so I opted for the half avocado with lobster meat and hearts of palm salad. It was tossed with truffle oil. So simple and yet so delicious!

When I asked Johnny if the restaurant had a signature cocktail, he recommended the Mirage Moon – a cocktail honoring the City of Rancho Mirage’s 40th birthday. The cocktail is made with vodka, pomegranate liqueur, Rose’s lime juice, and triple sec. I enjoy a sweet drink, and it hit my palate nicely.

If you are seeking cocktail tinctures, shrubs and shandies, and/or avant garde entrées, Shame on the Moon is not your oyster. If you want to solid meal, a strong cocktail, and friendly people, this is the place for you.

Bar Number Nine

Bar/Restaurant: LULU California Bistro
Established: 2011
Area: Heart of Downtown Palm Springs
Typa Joint: California Bistro
Signature Cocktail: I can’t even repeat it here

LULU (why are you shouting?) California Bistro occupies some prime real estate in downtown Palm Springs. It sits in the heart of the village, in the middle of it all, across from the Village Green. Streams of people go in and out. The outside patio to see and be seen, multiple levels, white horseshoe booths, bright colors, chandeliers and glass, make it pretty to look at, but I generally avoid any restaurant with the words “California” and “Bistro” in its title. Also, let’s not get cute with the capitalization, okay? The restaurant is self-described on its website as ” The Hippest restaurant in Palm Springs.” Oh, darlings. Don’t you know it’s no longer hip to be hip?

I must admit my review is for cocktails only. I had already been warned off by one Palm Spring resident that the food was not good. Interestingly, another resident told me the food was great. So there you have it. LULU is like Winston Churchhill’s description of Russia: a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. And hip.

I met a friend at LuLu on a Friday night; I heard they were serving a specialty cocktail in honor of Sinatra’s 100th birthday month. The bartender searched high and low behind the bar for a book or a flyer or a memo for some sort of recipe, until he threw up his hands and said he could make me what he called “The Sinatra Pom-Pom.”

The Sinatra POM fucking POM? I hated it already. The only thing that made it remotely Sinatra was the Jack Daniels. Then there was pomegranate juice and sparkling water and some sort of other frilly, juicy bullshit that Frank would have hated. I didn’t even finish it, much less take a photo of it.

If you love the place, tell me so. Maybe I was just there on an off night. But I swear I’ll slap the next bartender who tries to pass off any cocktail with pomegranate juice in it as a Sinatra homage.

Bar Number Ten

Bar/Restaurant: The Parker Palm Springs
Established:2004
Area: East Palm Canyon Drive
Typa Joint: Hollywood Regency Style Boutique Hotel
Signature Cocktail: Not really, but I had a Sidecar

I just adore the Parker Palm Springs. On my first visit in 2006, it had been two years since the remodel, and it was my first experience with immersion in Hollywood Regency style. Sure, I had seen a lamp or a rug or two, but nothing on this grand scale.

The property has a rich history. It opened in 1959 as California’s first Holiday Inn. In 1961, it was Gene Autry’s Melody Ranch, used to house his baseball team, the California Angels, during spring training. In the 1990s it was transformed into a resort reminiscent of French designer Givenchy, and thusly-named. Merv Griffin purchased it in the late 90s, and it became a hotspot for celebrities.

If you aren’t looking for the Parker, you will likely miss it. It is situated on East Palm Canyon Dr. and Cherokee Way, away from the madding crowds of the village, but it is tucked away behind trees. The only thing visible from the road is the white brick wall which reads “Parker Palm Springs.” You can self-park, but let the valet do it; this the Parker! You’ll know you’re in for a treat when you see the white brick façade and orange lacquer door leading inside.

Hotelier Jack Parker asked Hollywood Regency designer Jonathan Adler to redesign the Parker in 2003. The results are ambitious and whimsical. Adler has been quoted as saying that he wanted the decor to “Unite happiness and chic.”

The “bar” is a little alcove consisting of some liquor bottles and a few stools. But, the place to imbibe your cocktail is over by the fire pit, which Adler has been quoted as calling, “The hookah chill out zone.”

There was no signature drink per se, so I opted for a Sidecar. It was delicious, and it was also 20 bucks! Hold on to your wallets at the Parker. I did not have dinner at Mr. Parker, the restaurant on premises, but I’m sure it is just as pricey and just as good.

If you visit, be sure to walk the property, with its vignettes and secluded alcoves.

You will also see the private villas peppered throughout the property. I read that Barbra Streisand had a wall removed between two of the villas during her stay. This is also where Brad and Angie stayed in separate rooms in 2005, before they announced their coupling. Hey, maybe they stayed in the villas that Barbra joined together!

The Parker turned 10 in 2014, and there’s no doubt it paved the way for the re-designs of other boutique hotels like The Ace and the Saguaro. But they can’t hold a candle to the Parker.

Bar Number Eleven

(Johnny and Frank, photo palmspringslife.com)

Bar/Restaurant: Johnny Costa’s Ristorante
Established: 1976 (in a different location)
Area: The south end of downtown Palm Springs (South Palm Canyon Drive)
Typa Joint: Italian Restaurant
Signature Cocktail: The Costapolitan

If you have been keeping up with me in Palm Springs, you know I have two major goals: 1. Bent, of course; and 2. Soak up as much Sinatra as I can. Like Lord Fletcher’s and Melvyn’s, I killed two birds with one stone by visiting Johnny Costa’s.

Now, Frank never visited this restaurant, unlike Lord Fletcher’s and Melvyn’s. He and Johnny met in Hollywood in the 1960s at the Villa Capri restaurant in Hollywood. Johnny was a sous chef there and made one of Frank’s favorite dishes – “Steak Sinatra.”

Johnny moved to the desert in the 1960s, where he was the chef at Club Trinidad, a favorite hangout of Steve McQueen and the Rat Pack. He had also cooked at the Sands Casino in Las Vegas, where Sinatra performed regularly and owned a portion of the casino. In the 1970s, Johnny opened his first restaurant in Desert Hot Springs. Around that time, Frank hired Johnny as his personal chef at the estate in Rancho Mirage. More on THAT story when you read my review of Club Trinadad/The Purple Room.

Johnny’s restaurant was located in Desert Hot Springs, then Cathedral City, and then finally this downtown Palm Springs location. Johnny retired at the age of 83, but the restaurant is still being run by his sons and nephews.

From the restaurant’s website, Johnny and his family today:

I visited the restaurant with my local friend Mary, and with two new friends I met through this blog. Rick and Christian currently live in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. When Rick found my blog in June he invited Nellie and me to park at his 1950’s diner and classic Cadillac showroom, The Classic Garage. As Rick put it, “We’ll throw out a power cord and serve you breakfast.” I liked him immediately. When I blogged about the Constant Companion, Rick mentioned that Christian is a gastroenterologist, suggesting an appointment when I visited Eau Claire.

My heart was full. Here were these two complete strangers, who found me on the Internet, so generous and kind, even though we had never met! Well, when Rick and Christian were in Palm Springs for the first time for a few days, we just had to get together.

I was a bit apologetic to my friends about the restaurant. Rick and Christian had been busy going to all the hot spots in Palm Springs, and I wasn’t sure if they would be burning one of their precious dinner cards at a flop. There are so many Italian restaurants in the Coachella Valley, and perhaps Johnny’s was just another one. I had certainly not read any raving reviews about it.

We started in the bar for happy hour cocktails, where I had the $5 “Costapolitan,” an average Cosmopolitan with a clever name.

Then we moved into the restaurant for dinner. The place was bustling even on a weeknight. I of course ordered the Steak Sinatra. Rick ordered the veal, and Mary had the prawns. I can’t for the life of me remember what Christian ordered.

The Steak Sinatra was superb! The dish is usually prepared with strips of steak, but the waiter wisely advised to order it as a filet mignon. It was charred on the outside, succulent on the inside, and smothered in bell peppers, mushrooms, and garlic in a wine sauce.

Rick said the veal was the best he had ever eaten. I was so relieved!

Yes, there are many Italian restaurants in the Coachella Valley, but not many right in downtown Palm Springs, and no other with the Sinatra cachet the Johnny Costa’s offers. I’m so glad I went there.

Bar Number 12

Bar/Restaurant: POM
Established: 2004
Area: Indio
Typa Joint: Casino Bar
Signature Cocktail: I had a Manhattan

What can one really say about an Indian casino bar that separates it from any other Indian casino bar? To tell you the truth, not much, but when setting a goal of visiting 40 bars in 60 days, you review every … darned … place you imbibe! (Well, the rules of Bent do provide that I may not review any chain bars or restaurants. As I am running out of time here in the Coachella Valley, you’d be reading a review of the Applebee’s next door to the RV park if it weren’t for those pesky rules I set for myself!)

I visited POM at the Fantasy Springs Casino before seeing the Brian Setzer Orchestra. I was pleasantly surprised by the decor, and the food was also very good.

The grilled filet and iceberg wedge, at $17, is the best deal on the menu. Take an already delicious iceberg lettuce wedge with bacon and bleu cheese and onion and add a petite fillet mignon? Wonderful. Wow I did not order it, I saw the ceviche trio go by several times, and it also looked tasty for $13.

What’s with the word “Pom” and Palm Springs? First there was the dreadful “Sinatra Pom Pom” at LULU. Then came the pomegranate liqueur at Shame on the Moon. Now, an entire bar called Pom?

Like the SLS Casino in Las Vegas, POM is cheeky about the origins of its name. The bev nap provides a slew of possibilities, from “Pitcher of Margaritas” to “Perfect Olive Martini.”

I admit it – I bent the rules at POM. I did not have one of its signature cocktails. Take a look at the bottom of this menu and you’ll see why. All of the concoctions sounded un-delicious and cloyingly sweet. The Manhattan was crisp and fresh and just what the doctor ordered.

The best part of my experience at POM? The back bartender was wearing a Brian Setzer Orchestra pin, advertising the show. I mentioned to him that I was seeing the performance. As I paid my bill and got up to leave, he took the pin off and gave it to me as a souvenir. What a nice guy!

Bar Number Thirteen

(Photo from the Palm Springs Life archives – the Rat Pack and Bing Crosby perform at Club Trinidad)

Bar/Restaurant: The Purple Room
(Re)Established: 2013
Area: Deepwell neighborhood of Palm Springs
Typa Joint: Historic Music Venue

Signature Cocktail: The Dean Martini

On the occasion of Frank Sinatra’s 100 birthday on Saturday, December 12, 2015, I stopped in at The Purple Room to pay my respects.

Brought to you by the same guys behind Trio, The Purple Room re-opened in 2013. The attached hotel is a timeshare. The lobby is nicely retro-decorated.

The Purple Room was part of Club Trinidad – a hang out for Steve McQueen and the Rat Pack back in the 1960s. This is the place where Johnny Costa used to cook linguine clams for Frank.

In the 1970s, Johnny broke off and started his own restaurant. Frank didn’t know this and stopped by for a plate of linguine clams. They were not to his liking, so he sent them back, via the wall. The waiter at Club Trinidad frantically phoned Johnny, asking for his recipe. The secret? Not so much garlic.

On another night at Club Trinidad, waiters and busboys were hovering for tips. Even though this was Frank’s own fault for tipping them $100 bills, he got angry at their vulture-like manners and threw a bottle of champagne against the wall.

Nowadays, the walls at The Purple Room are adorned with quotes from the Rat Pack. I apologize for the poor quality of these photos, but it was rather dark in there!

On Frank’s 100th I was surprised to find a blues band instead of swing music, but it was still grand nonetheless. The space is inviting and cool and retro without taking itself too seriously. I ordered a Dean Martini and chatted with a chiropractor and his wife, who often frequent The Purple Room.

The Purple Room is a must-do for any Sinatraphile.

Bar Number Fourteen

The Riviera, then:

Bar/Restaurant: Sidebar at The Riviera Palm Springs
Established: 1959 (Hotel)
Area: North Indian Canyon
Typa Joint: Midcentury Modern/Hollywood Regency, Vintage Hotel
Signature Cocktail: Strawberry Balsamic Martini

I recently returned from New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas, where the Riviera Casino has closed for good. It’s good to see the Riviera Palm Springs still in business after 57 years. However, I would not say it is “going strong.”

The Riviera Palm Springs opened in 1959. By 1963 it was featured in the movie “Palm Springs Weekend” starring Troy Donahue, Stephanie Powers, Connie Stevens, and Robert Conrad.

Many of the pool scenes in the film were shot at the Ocotillo Lodge (now condominiums), but here’s a scene shot at the Riviera. Wouldn’t you just die for that outdoor furniture?

In 1964, the Riviera was the site of the first diplomatic meeting between the United States (Lyndon Johnson) and Mexico (Adolfo Lopez Mateo). Sonny Bono once owned the restaurant inside. All the majors in entertainment in the 1960s went through the Riviera, including Bob Hope, the Count Basie Orchestra, Elvis and his entourage, the Rat Pack, and so many more. Stylized black and white close-ups of the greats adorn the walls of the main thoroughfare.

In 2008 the Riviera was owned by Noble House Hotels and underwent a major renovation. The vibe became Hollywood Regency and Pop Art, with oversized chairs, crystal pool table, modern chandeliers, and lacquer furniture.

Very recently Tribute Portfolio has acquired the property, and a multi-million dollar upgrade is planned in the near future.

The state of flux due to change in ownership is apparent. I phoned the Riviera in December to inquire about festivities for Frank Sinatra’s 100th birthday on December 12, 2015. I was transferred and ran around until I finally threw up my hands and hung up. The Riviera missed an opportunity to pay homage to Sinatra and to make some money that night. When I visited recently, the sun-bleached cushions around the pool and The Bikini Bar, once vibrant green and orange, are now just sad. No money is being plowed back into the premises for the time being. The local paper reported that holiday parties and fundraisers were canceled due to the change in ownership, but when I visited in January there was still no construction underway! Trip Advisor and Yelp reviews from November through January have been one and two stars mostly. Very dismal.

My friends and I ventured to the Sidebar at the Riviera for happy hour. Sadly, the $6 glass of Veuve Clicquot was out with the prior ownership. We were handed happy hour menus for the Starlite Lounge, even though we were in Sidebar – more evidence that no effort is being made for quality of service during this transition.

(The Starlite Lounge, at the front of the house, is open only on weekends.)

I opted for the Strawberry Balsamic Martini, made of simple syrup, lemon juice, Chopin vodka, strawberries and balsamic vinegar. Despite the vinegar the drink was very sweet.

During happy hour the bar food is 25% off. Don’t hurt yourself with that discount! So, during happy hour, one tuna taco, normally seven dollars, was a screaming deal (NOT) at $5.25. To underscore the poor value, the taco was presented on a tray meant for two tacos, all by itself, barely large enough to stand up between the two posts on the tray.

My friend’s flatbread looked very good, the sliders were okay, and the pot stickers were tasty. But, certainly not the best food or the best deal I’ve had in the Coachella Valley.

Now is a precarious time for the Riviera. It sits at the ass-end of Indian Canyon Drive, not really within walking distance to the village, and these blips in service could cause more harm than they realize. I would like to return after Tribute Portfolio implements its vision for the property, but they’d better hurry. Cool furniture alone won’t save them.

Bar Number 15

Bar/Restaurant: Pete’s Hideaway
Established: ???
Area: South Palm Canyon Drive
Typa Joint: Neighborhood Bar
Signature Cocktail: No, so I had Jack on the rocks

I love a good dive bar, and Pete’s Hideaway is known as such, but this is how Palm Springs does a dive bar. A dive bar is a little on the seedy side. Things are not very clean or tidy. Wait staff are surly. Locals are either not friendly or too friendly.

Pete’s is not divey. It’s not surprising that the owners are a father/daughter team.

Pete’s is self-described on its website as the number one local bar in town. The crowd certainly felt local when we went in on a Thursday night. We were greeted with a hearty, “Hello, beautiful!” from the bartender. The patrons turned, smiling, to greet us. There was the guy in the cowboy hat, the guy in the porkpie hat, and other jovial merrymakers. Photos of celebrities adorned the walls. There is a stage for live music (there’s no music on Mondays and Thursdays).

I ordered Jack on the rocks and enjoyed this neighborhood hangout. We didn’t order any food, but I’ve heard that the hamburgers are delicious.

Bar Number 16

Bar/Restaurant: American Legion Hall #519
Established: 1948
Area: Downtown Palm Springs
Typa Joint: Veterans’ Hall
Signature Cocktail: No, so I had a Maker’s rocks

 

One block from the hustle and bustle of downtown Palm Springs is American Legion Hall 519, established in 1948.

My friend Burt is a member and invited Maria and Bob and me to dinner on Friday night.

A blue-haired, bleeding heart liberal like me could feel like a fish out of water in a place like this. The stage was adorned with American flags and two life-sized cardboard cutouts – Ronald Reagan, and John Wayne.

During dinner, a singer with a karaoke-like set up channeled all the great crooners, from Johnny Mathis to Ray Price to Willie Nelson and Dean Martin.

Cocktails were five bucks and a filet mignon dinner was $15. About halfway through dinner the entertainer announced that he was raising money for his sick daughter-in-law, and he welcomed singers for a small donation.

I chose a song the Legionnaires, ages 70 to 90, would recall – Rosemary Clooney’s 1954 hit, “Mambo Italiano.” I had a great time!

A friend said I would violate the rules of Bent by reviewing an American Legion Hall, as there is more than one, and the rules are no chain bars or restaurants. She might be right! But in the spirit of Bent, I am BENDing the rules. After all, I doubt there is an American Legion Hall in the country that is exactly the same as any other.

The Tiki Bars: Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, and Twenty

I am a sucker for a good tiki bar, and it turns out that Palm Springs has four.

BOOTLEGGER TIKI

I started my tiki pilgrimage at Bootlegger Tiki – the former Don the Beachcomber, in the design district of the village.

Don the Beachcomber originated in Southern California before World War II. In its heyday there were 16 locations, of which this Palm Springs location was one. Some would argue Don the Beachcomber was the first tiki bar. Here are the original Tiki gods on the roof of the building:

Don the Beachcomber used to occupy the entire building, but there is now a coffee shop in front and a small, four-booth bar in the back.

The drinks are authentic, and the lamp lightshades are blowfish.

I had the Three Dots and a Dash – two types of rum, falernum, dram spice and a few other goodies – which made a tasty beverage.

TONGA HUT

There’s no food to speak of at Bootlegger, so we were off to The Tonga Hut for dinner and more exotic cocktails.

The Tonga Hut originated in Los Angeles, and this is their second location. They make their Mai Tais the old-fashioned, Trader Vic’s way, which I greatly appreciated. Please, please do no put any juice in a Mai Tai except for lime!

The Huli-Huli chicken was a delicious dinner.

Then we took a tour of the place, complete with memorabilia from long-lost Palm Springs tiki bars, and even a secret room.

THE REEF

Finally reopened, the Reef at the Caliente Tropics Motor Hotel on East Palm takes its tiki seriously. Bring in any tiki mug on Monday nights for drink specials. Thursday night Yacht Rock features the laid back vibes of Buffet and Captain & Tennille. The bar is adjacent to the pool, where you can sit outside overlooking the aquatic fun and frolic and tiki torches.

TOUCAN’S TIKI

The last tiki stop was at Toucan’s Tiki – a gay bar that was the least authentic, but arguably the most fun. There was a drag show that night, and a cute boy behind the bar to mix my cocktail – a Blue Lagoon.

Bar Number Twenty-One

Bar/Restaurant: Trilussa
Established: Fairly Recently
Area: The Mary Pickford Theater Development in Cathedral City
Typa Joint: Italian Restaurant
Signature Cocktail: No, so I had a well martini

The Coachella Valley is drowning in Italian restaurants already, so I was a bit surprised to see Trilussa in Cathedral City. It is obvious some money was put into the development of the restaurant. It has a lovely patio and a very large dining area which is well-appointed. But on my visit, I was focused on the bar for happy hour.

Trilussa was recommended to me by a regular at Lord Fletcher’s. The menu reflected what she had already told me: Happy hour prices are good, and the menu is extensive. Well drinks are $5 and martinis are $6 during happy hour, and most happy hour meals range between $6 and $8.

The older set flocks to Trilussa for happy hour. On the day I visited there was a lounge act. I wish I could have surreptitiously taken their photograph, but it wasn’t possible. The duo consisted of a rather good male guitar player, and an elderly woman controlling a keyboard synthesizer. Her hair was blonde and straight. Her voice was sweet but bland – as if Doris Day and Pat Boone had a love child produced by the most boring sex ever. Each pop favorite of the 1960s and 1970s was transformed into sone thing new – stale and drab. Gladys Knight’s “Midnight Train to Georgia” and Earth Wind and Fire’s “Let’s Groove Tonight” were almost unbearable. I might’ve stayed for another martini if it had not been for the music. Perhaps everyone else had their hearing aids turned down!

Bar Number Twenty-Two

Bar/Restaurant: Billy Reed’s
Established: 1975
Area: Downtown Palm Springs
Typa Joint: Beats the Hell out of Me!
Signature Cocktail: No, so I had a glass of wine

If you ever wondered what the love child of a Carrow’s diner and a whorehouse would look like, try Billy Reed’s.

What a schizophrenic joint! Outside is a pond teeming with overweight Koi.

Inside there are old-fashioned velvet settees and knockoff Tiffany stained glass lamps, mixed with oak furniture, exposed brick walls, wallpaper, lace curtains, and chandeliers.

Billy Reed’s opened in 1975, when it built up a loyal following – the same folks who continue to visit today. For a time it was operated by someone else, but the place is now back in Billy’s hands. (Billy is in his eighth decade but has had some work done, making him look, at most, like an eighty-something year old man who has had some work done.)

We never did get a straight answer on whether there was a happy hour, so I opted for a glass of Pinot Grigio. My appetizer of fried calamari was edible, but the pot roast dinner was cold, with over-cooked veggies and brown gravy that tasted like it was out of a package.

We visited on a Sunday and feasted our eyes on the decor and the clientele. At 4:30 in the afternoon, a woman of 80 or so walked by sporting an up-do, red velvet coat, and red boa. In the parking lot, teetering along with a cane, was another octogenarian customer, wearing five-inch platform FMPs (formerly known as “Fuck Me Pumps” but now always remembered by me as “Fill My Prescription”).

Billy makes all the pies, which were trotted around several times by a waiter telling eye roll and groan jokes.

I’m sure I need not return to Billy Reed’s, but it was certainly an experience.

Bar Numbers Twenty-Three and Twenty-Four

Bar/Restaurant: Mamma Gina & Armando’s
Area: El Paseo
Typa Joint: Italian & Mexican, respectively
Signature Cocktail: Mamma Gina – Negroni; Armando’s – Margarita

MAMMA GINA

Traipsing off to El Paseo, the hip and trendy shopping and dining area in Palm Desert, my friends an I opted for happy hour at a venerable Italian restaurant in a town full of Italian restaurants – Mamma Gina.

My friends had given it great reviews, but upon their return they were surprised to find the prices higher and the portions smaller. My barrel-aged Negroni was very good, but it was not a part of happy hour, and it cost $12.90! That is far too steep.

ARMANDO’S

We decided to round out the evening around the corner at Armando’s, where the margaritas, I was told, were the greatest. Well, at best, it was an off night. The waiter did not bring us menus. We inquired about the types of margaritas and he said they had two – blended or on the rocks. Somehow I bet the menus he never brought us had a bit more detail than that.

My margarita was so strong and made with such offensive, cheap tequila that I sent it back and asked it to be blended with strawberries. The waiter did so with a huff, and it was drinkable, but barely.

Nope to both places. They both felt to me as if the bloom is off the rose and they have rested too long on their laurels.

Bar Number Twenty-Five

Bar/Restaurant: Tropicale
Area: Downtown

Established: 2008
Typa Joint: Gay Forward
Signature Cocktail: So many!  I had the Black Cherry Lemondrop.

Just down the block from the Agua Caliente Spa Casino, Tropicale never disappoints.  (Well, that cray cray waitress Tammy – no relation – used to eat and drink the leftovers as she bussed the tables, but things have been much calmer since they canned her ass.)

While the patio is lovely, opt for a banquette inside to watch the continuous promenade of well-dressed gay men flow by.

Bar Number Twenty-Five

Bar/Restaurant: Wang’s of the Desert
Area: Downtown
Established: Unclear
Typa Joint: Pan Asian in the Dining Room; Gay Nighclub in the Bar
Signature Cocktail: So Many

My friends Ann & Michelle and I headed out for dinner to Wang’s of the Desert, known for its Pan-Asian cuisine:

The cocktail menu is quite good, especially for a “Chinese” restaurant.

Way back in the day, Wang’s was known as “Jilly’s,” where Frank Sinatra’s right-hand man, Jilly Rizzo, staked his claim.  Frank was a frequent visitor.  (Frank and Jilly are buried within a few plots of each other at Desert Memorial Park in Cathedral City.)

 

 

Nowadays, in the bar on Friday nights, Wang’s hosts one of Palm Springs’s busiest happy hours for gay boys, complete with dance music on the covered patio,and a coupla male dancers with little to wear except a Speedo, or a wee handkerchief.

Bar Number Twenty-Six

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Bar Number Twenty-Seven

Bar/Restaurant: The 19th Hole
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Bar Number Thirty

Bar/Restaurant: Copley’s
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Bar/Restaurant: Fisherman’s
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Bar/Restaurant: Shanghai Red’s
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Bar/Restaurant: Lavender Bistro
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Bar Number Thirty-Five

Bar/Restaurant:  Village Pub
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Bar Number Forty

Bar/Restaurant: Paul
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