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The Cat and Fiddle's Mulled Wine
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I have always had something against mulled wine. Besides it having the viscousity of blood, I just imagine Will Farrell and Rachel Dratch's "Lovers" characters from SNL drinking hot mulled wine to wash down the juices of their roasted goat meat.
Somehow mulled wine always seems to be connected to hippie pagan Ren Faire earthmother people. Not that there is anything elementally wrong with hippie pagan Ren Faire earthmother people. I have friends who dance naked in the woods. I, however, have no desire to drink mulled wine and dance naked in the woods.
When the mulled wine at the Cat and Fiddle was recommended to me, I was wary. But I love the "fiddew" as people pronounce it. It is one of the most comfortable bars in town, with wooden booths, a big patio, and no attitude. The crowd at the Fiddle are long-time Hollywood locals, old school punkers, and 20 and 30-somethings out for a raucous good time. In younger days, we used to troll the Fiddle for cute European boys from the Guitar Institute around the corner.
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On my recent visit everyone was friendly, and the Buzzcocks and Sex Pistols blared out of the jukebox. A few people were partaking in the standard pub grub, and an exciting game of darts was on. We cozied into a booth in the corner and were soon chatting with perfect strangers. The hot red wine with just a splash of brandy really surprised me. I liked it! I really liked it! The spices weren't overwhelming, and there was no harsh tannic flavor. It was thick and comforting, a sweet nectar closer to punch than wine. If I didn't have to drive, I would have stayed in our little corner and drank them all night until I was drunk and sticky. Then I just might have gone for a little dance in the woods.
The Cat and Fiddle (323) 468-3800
6530 Sunset Blvd. LA 90028
Photo by Elise Thompson for LAist, moments before taking up the pan flute.
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