If there aren’t enough British men’s clubs in your life replete with wood, leather, and portraits of the aristocracy you can fill that void at the Bombay Club. Prince Albert gazes down, patiently and benevolently, upon the crowd sitting in leather sofas and enjoying the sounds of traditional jazz. The square bar anchors the room, radiating a solid, masculine presence. Its cocktail menu covers three centuries, but shines the spotlight on vintage drinks like the Aviation and Sidecar and a variety of martinis. The nightly music (no cover) features some really classy jazz acts to match the classy air. Some guests enjoy dinner in booths discreetly tucked behind velvet curtains, while others take their drinks to the small patio off the side of the bar. The darkness and low ceilings of the Bombay Club make it feel cool when the summer sun is beating down and cozy and warm when winter makes its brief appearance. It is a haven, a respite, from the hordes of Bourbon Street. Prince Albert would approve.
Bartender Blake Kaiser pours a martini at the Bombay Club
