In prime position on the strip of Fulham Road that Chelsea’s gilded young refer to as ‘the beach’, GOAT is a good bet for regulation drinks, pizzas and casual New York-style Italian dining. But its most interesting liquid asset lurks behind an innocuous first-floor door. Fathom the digi-code and enter a dimly lit, booze-filled study that looks like a soi-disant, teetotal Victorian clergyman’s guilty secret with added temptations in the form of leather chesterfields and a scratchy jazz soundtrack. Rare absinthes and divine cocktails sing off the same hymn sheet: Old Testament tipples such as Rhubarb Bellini and Manhattan sit alongside new-fashioned spritzes, Spanish Harlem (Woodford Reserve bourbon, sherry, lemon and plum bitters) and other well-executed, modish tipples. “Earl Grey Martini, vicar?”
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