Golden Ratio — A Girl's Guide to Drinking Alone

216 ½ Greene Ave at Grand Ave, Clinton Hill

By Maya Raman, Guest Writer

The Place: A bar that recently opened up around the corner from my apartment, completing the trifecta started by Place des Fêtes and Izzy Rose. Its name comes from the mathematical concept that some, including this bar, use to justify the idea that “nature builds nothing at random.” I think that’s kind of pretentious, but I’m pretty STEM-brained, so I’ll try it out.

The Time: Wednesday, April 8, 5:50 P.M. Like a real adult, I stop by on my way home from work. I’m nervous to drink alone, but it’s awesome to be a girl who is good at that so I’m trying to practice.

The Vibe: Despite the fact that Golden Ratio is all windows, from across the street the place looks dark enough that I’m not sure if it’s open. It is, though, and I start getting prematurely settled at the bar before realizing that one of the employees has to check me in. He selects two seats on an iPad so I give one to my backpack. When he asks for my phone number my name pops up on the screen—the small joys of surveillance capitalism.

The place is tastefully decorated, with clean wood and cement walls, ochre bar seats and cobalt blue cushions. It’s comfortable and beautiful, but the whole Resy thing, plus people constantly coming in for their reservations, makes me painfully aware of how much space I take up occupying two of five seats at the limited bar. The rest of the seating is tables taken up by thirty-something well-dressed Brooklynites. As someone on the older end of Gen Z, I’m definitely the youngest person in here, but it’s a Clinton Hill cocktail bar so what can you expect?

The Bartender: I’m a shy diner—I’ll keep up a conversation, but I don’t tend to initiate one, and I overthink most actions, which is why I’m pushing myself to drink alone. Luckily, I’m confused about the menu so I have a reason to talk to the bartender. She’s friendly and thoroughly explains the menu concept (see below). She also tells me that they’re opening a patio soon and will have frozen lemon cocktails, and I could see myself being a patio regular if these prices weren’t straight out of Manhattan. We make conversation occasionally, usually about the ingredients in my drink, and I almost become comfortable enough to ask for her name and/or pull out my book—something to stake a claim to my solitary presence at this bar. Almost. I read maybe two sentences of the book, which I don’t remember, and end up doing the more comfortable and inconspicuous act of being on my phone.

The Drank: There are two main points of Golden Ratio. The first is that each cocktail is named for, and based around, a specific ingredient like “fir” or “parsnip.” Accompanying information includes things like “peppers” and “needles,” giving you a vague sense of the drink you’re getting. I think that’s again a bit pretentious, but which of us average drinkers know exactly what we’re ordering anyway? The second, and perhaps greater, selling point is that each cocktail has a non-alcoholic counterpart, which gets as much care in its concoction and is often almost as expensive. I try to figure out how these two things relate to the golden ratio. Perhaps (non-alcoholic options + vibes-based menu) / non-alcoholic options = 1.618…? Nature might build nothing at random, but this bar theme feels like an exception.

I first get the pine cocktail because I will likely never see it elsewhere. The other ingredients listed are “mastic, resin, lime.” The drink itself is more limey than piney, but I detect vodka and a parsley-esque earthiness that must be the pine. It’s yummy and pretty, and gets me tipsy quickly. The bartender tells me that they have a forager who collects the pine needles for the syrup, and we agree that sounds like a dream job.

Of course, I need to try a non-alcoholic option. Ideally, I’d get the non-alcoholic pine drink (“pine nut, lactose, lemon”) to properly compare, but I’m a bit pined out. I end up going with “nasturtium” to honor that which grows wild in my parents’ California backyard. The other ingredients in the drink are “leaves” and “gardens.” When it comes it really does taste like leaves and gardens, as in it tastes a bit like dirt.

Was I Hit On / Did I Make Friends?: I wasn’t hit on even a little bit—the only thing that wanted my phone number was the bar. I had friendly interactions with the bartender, but unfortunately the prices are a bit too high here to justify seeing her often.

Should You Drink Here Alone?: Sure, if you get less stressed out by taking up space in a busy bar than I do, although I suppose that’s the point of drinking alone. I’ll probably be out on the patio once or twice this summer, with a reservation and a friend, drinking a frozen lemon martini of divine proportions.

Maya Raman is a technical writer from Northern California who lives in Brooklyn. She enjoys spending entire days in Prospect Park.