The only time I have ever been to a piano bar in my life, was in Minneapolis, MN about 5 years ago. I think the name of the place was Nik’s (anyone know what I’m talking about?) and it was a huge, very kitschy sort of place. As far as I can recall, I didn’t enjoy the piano-playing very much, but I had a good time. So, you know, it was fine. In theory I feel like a fan of piano bars and the idea of a group of people sitting around an older gentlemen, belting out old WWII favorites, but when I am presented with the reality of a man singing Elton John to a pretty much empty bar, the fantasy sort of dies.

That being said, The Ivory Room, a very small piano bar right next to the capital on Mifflin, had its endearments. The entire ceiling of the small, sleek bar is covered in tiny white lights, which is sweet and keeps the lighting ambient. The bartending staff (we were served by Jack and Julie) were refreshingly unpretentious considering the surroundings, and the drinks, shared between myself and my entourage, had a way of growing on you.

Now, while I appreciated the sincerity of our serenader, Dave Mathis (any relation to Johnny?), his repertoire left a bit to be desired. In the short time we were there, we heard “You’ve Got a Friend” (James Taylor), “Fly Me to the Moon” (Frank Sinatra), and “Crocodile Rock” (Elton John). Now, let me take a moment to relate to you all, that I am neither a fan of James Taylor NOR Elton John. Quite the opposite, actually. Now, if some Neil Diamond or Glen Campbell got put into the mix, then we would have been talking---and to be fair, Dave often asked for requests, we just left before I had my chance.

Another small issue I took with the bar was the sort of Madison bourgeoisies who were hanging out there, who seemed put out by the Riff Raff that was hanging around “their bar”---BUT, I digress too much on the unimportant aspects. The booze is what I was there for.

I ordered what Julie referred to as the Ivory Room’s most signature drink, Fly Me to the Moon, which I had been planning to order anyway. This martini is a mixture of 44° North Huckleberry Vodka, Chambord (a French black raspberry liqueur), champagne and pineapple juice. I was intrigued by the use of champagne in the drink, and although I think this drink uses the term “Martini” quite loosely, who cares? At first, I was completely UNimpressed. I thought it tasted really dry and almost metallic. I turned my nose up (especially at the $8.00 price tag) but as I dug into the free cocktail mix, I took small sip by small sip, and by the end I was not only slightly wasted, but also happy with my choice.

The same happened to my friend, who ordered the Strawberry Fields, a mix of Stoli Strasberi, Strawberry Schnapps and lemonade. She, too, was grossed out at the beginning, but once acquainted with the taste, enjoyed herself more and more. My third drinking buddy ordered the Honey Nut (a name all of us thought unfortunate), Barenjager Honey Liqueur (comes in a really cute bottle, by the way, that looks like a beehive), Frangelico, and Bailey’s. This was a standard sort of sweet martini, and it was good at the start, but became sort of overwhelming by the end of the drink, a problem I often have with super dessert-like drinks.

When we all left the Ivory Room, we were a bit awkward, thinking that the bar was sort of a good idea, but we were unsure if we would ever go back. But ever since going last week, we keep thinking about the bar, so I suppose just like its drinks, the bar has grown on us as well. My only request is that Davie boy get a little more with it on the tunes, and shove over on the bench, because I do a mean back-up to Sweet Caroline. Word up.

Nick Rhoads also took a spin through the Ivory Room in November