Man, 2018. That was a year, huh? And London Pisco Sour Week, seriously, what a blast. I still remember prepping for it like it was some kind of endurance race, but for good times, not running. I’d heard whispers about it before, seen a few posts pop up on my feed, but never really jumped in. That year, though, I just decided, “Screw it, I’m doing it.”
My first step, obviously, was trying to figure out which joints were even participating. I pulled up their official site – or what I thought was official – and just scrolled down the list. It was a proper mix, some fancy-pants places, some chill spots I’d never even heard of. My strategy was simple: hit up the ones that looked interesting, and definitely try to scope out some new haunts. I marked a few on a rough map in my head, a mental itinerary of pisco pilgrimage.
I kicked things off on a Tuesday, I think it was. Had a bit of a late start from work, but still buzzed over to a place near Borough Market. Can’t remember the name now, but it was one of those dark, kinda moody bars. Walked in, and the smell of lime and something sweet just hit me. Ordered my first Pisco Sour of the week. This one was classic, you know? Frothy egg white crown, a few drops of bitters making a little swirl on top. Took a sip, and man, that tartness, then the smooth kick of the pisco – perfection. Just sat there, chilling, watching the London evening unfold outside.
Wednesday, I decided to go a bit more adventurous. Dragged a mate along with me to a Peruvian place in Soho. This joint was buzzing. Packed to the rafters, loud music, great vibes. We squeezed into a little corner, ordered some ceviche, and, of course, a couple of Pisco Sours. These ones had a bit more of a twist, a slight hint of something extra, like a tiny whisper of ginger or maybe even a weird fruit I couldn’t place. My mate, he’s a bit of a purist, he was like, “Nah, the classic is better.” But I dug it. It was different, kept things interesting. We ended up staying there for hours, just soaking it all in, forgetting about whatever garbage happened at work.
Then came Thursday. I had planned to hit up two places, really commit to the cause. The first one was down in Shoreditch, a real trendy spot. They had a special Pisco Sour for the week, something with like, elderflower or something equally floral. It was beautiful, all light and springy, but honestly, a bit too delicate for my taste. Tasted like a fancy garden party. Still, glad I tried it. From there, I hopped on a bus to another bar closer to home, a tiny, unassuming spot I’d often walked past. This one, man, this one was a winner. The Pisco Sour there was just solid. No frills, just perfectly balanced. The bartender, he was a character, telling us stories about pisco and Peru. Felt like I’d stumbled onto a secret club.
My Weekend Pisco Run
The weekend was when I really went all in. Saturday, I met up with a bigger crew. We hit up three different places. It was a proper crawl. The first place was a bit of a letdown, honestly. The Pisco Sour was just… weak. Like they were afraid to put in enough pisco. But you win some, you lose some, right? We didn’t dwell. Moved on. The second spot, though, made up for it. It was a proper Peruvian restaurant, and their Pisco Sour was legit. Thick, creamy foam, strong pisco bite, perfect. We had a few too many there, the conversation flowing, laughs getting louder. By the time we got to the third place, we were all a bit wobbly, but still managed to appreciate their take on it. I remember trying a passion fruit Pisco Sour there, which was surprisingly good, a nice change of pace.
Sunday was more chilled. I just went to one place, a quiet little bar I’d seen on the list that looked less hectic. Wanted to savor the last official day. Ordered a classic Pisco Sour, sat by myself, and just reflected on the week. It wasn’t just about the drinks, you know? It was about discovering new places, trying different things, even if some didn’t quite hit the mark. It was about the atmosphere, the buzz of London, and the sheer joy of just going out and experiencing something cool. That last Pisco Sour, I really took my time with it, enjoying every last drop.
So yeah, London Pisco Sour Week 2018. If you were there, you know what I’m talking about. If you weren’t, well, you definitely missed out on some damn good sours and some proper good times. It was a week I won’t forget.
