Review: The Association

The Association

No signs, just a door knocker adorns the entrance

By Jennifer Hadley

Want to belong to an exclusive club, without the pricey membership fee? The Association offers this kinship, but they’re not out to recruit you; you’ll have to find it on your own.

It’s highly likely you’ve walked right past 110 East 6th Street, the location of the Association, never knowing that the downtown bar (open since December of last year) even existed. Indeed, the Association is not exactly trying to recruit pedestrians with big flashy signs like Cole’s, its next-door neighbor. On the contrary, the Association is below street level (nine stairs to be precise), and if you don’t recognize the lion’s head adorning the front door, you may never find the place. There’s something appealing about that, as it lends a certain mystique, an almost exclusive secrecy that is intimidating as much as it is enticing.

A doorman isn’t standing out front with a clipboard, though. There’s no one to ensure that you’ve been deemed cool enough to enter by virtue of being on “the list.” All the same, once inside you do get the feeling of belonging to an exclusive, um, Association. The interior is dark, but not so dark as to hide the most dominant feature of the Association, which is the huge bar, stocked with liquor – lots and lots of liquor. Around the perimeter are dark leather couches where small groups (mainly young men) in business casual attire speak lowly while nursing drinks.

Although the male to female ratio is a bit disproportionate, you get the sense that even if a woman were to arrive alone, she wouldn’t be harassed by drunken goons. In fact, I’m rather surprised there aren’t more women, as you can easily imagine this joint as the setting of a Sex & the City episode. (The chandelier made of dozens of mini disco bars doesn’t hurt.)

It’s easy to see that this is no dive or frat bar. On the contrary, the atmosphere inside exudes an aura of classiness, without being pompous. The music, which is orchestrated by a guy and his laptop at the end of the bar, is equally respectful and features Hall & Oates as opposed to Lil John.

The specialty drinks, as well, seem to fit with the upscale, yet unpretentious ambience. However, when asked which of the 10 drinks featured on the menu is his favorite, bartender Nicholas Vitulli replies, “None. I’m sick of all of the specialty drinks.” Although surprising, his bluntness isn’t off-putting, but rather feels authentic (at least he’s not trying to up-sell me the most expensive drink they offer). Incidentally, while the specialty drink menu doesn’t list prices, they’re roughly 10 bucks a pop.

There’s the Pisco Sour, complete with real egg whites, as well as the Barsol Pisco, comprising sugar, lemon and lime, daintily topped with five drops of Peruvian-style bitters. It’s the bitters that win me over with their cinnamon flavor, as otherwise the drink is a bit too sour for my taste.

However, the Vesper Martini blends both gin and vodka perfectly, balancing the flavors of a traditional gin martini with the modern vodka (à la a Cosmopolitan) martini. It’s also got a touch of Lillet, a French aperitif. Other specialty drinks, like the Sazerac, boast selling points such as being served in a glass that’s been washed with absinthe.

While sampling various drinks, Vitulli gives me a crash course in various liquors, proving that he’s either the world’s best bullshitter or he knows his booze. However, despite the fact that it’s obvious I’m there to review the bar, he isn’t sucking up to me. He’s attentive but he doesn’t appear to be trying to impress anyone, which seems to match the M.O. of the bar, with its utter lack of advertising (even the Web site is nondescript). To confirm this theory, I inquire as to why there is no sign on the front of the building. Vitulli shrugs and says that’s not really the style of the bar. They are growing more by word of mouth, and that’s the way they like it. It’s an organic growth they seem to be after, rather than coveting the title of hotspot of the month.

But that’s part of the charm of the place. Even though you don’t need to know someone to get in, there is a feeling of belonging to an exclusive club once you’re inside. A club that, instead of trying to impress you, is simply being what it is – a place to chill with your friends and try some drinks you’re not likely to get elsewhere. It’s a place where you feel like you belong, and where even if you’re badgering the bartender with inane questions for hours, you’ll still be treated with respect. Just don’t expect him to kiss your butt, even for tips or a good review in a magazine.

The Association, 110 East 6th Street, Los Angeles, 90014. www.theassociation-la.com

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