ChiefsPlanet - Food and Drink Planning on having a drink in the Power and Light District? Pub Crawl article inside

We met at 6:15 on a balmy Wednesday evening, appropriately, at the Drum Room of the Hilton President Hotel, which was shuttered for 25 years before being restored to its elegance. At one time the top drinking spot for the city's social and political elite, the Drum Room also is enjoying a rebirth as the senior statesman among the district's bars.

Pam the bartender suggested the Ultimate Preztini, which consisted of Grey Goose vodka, Cointreau and white cranberry juice with "Grand Marnier-infused craisins." The tab was $16.46, and the taste was a bit sweet for a guy who likes vodka, straight up, flavored only by a lemon twist.

Mahoney gave an update: Five bars had not yet opened for business, so we were looking at 20. We devised a game plan — one signature drink at each bar, with two glasses for sharing.

The Bristol Seafood Grill was sleek and contemporary, with lots of black granite. Henri whipped up a "Pink Pop," which had premium French vodka, fruit juices and Domaine Ste. Michelle cuvee brut champagne, for $9.50. "Tastes like a lemonade fizz," Mahoney said.

Henri sensed we weren't impressed and offered a second choice, but we stuck to our one-drink-per-bar rule. Across the street was the Chipotle Mexican Grill, where we chugged a Negra Modelo beer for three bucks. We were joined by Jon Stephens, marketing director for the Baltimore-based Cordish development company, which built the Kansas City Power & Light District.

Cordish also is the developer for the Ballpark Village project in St. Louis, and Stephens was ready for my first question. When will we see some action, other than ducks swimming, in the mudhole next to Busch Stadium?

"We're very confident it will be developed in time," Stephens offered in his best PR-ese. "The key there is to look at the track record of success — what's been built on the western side of the state."

A BUENA PLATTER
Stephens was an amiable addition and an important cog in our crawl because lines were forming at the doors to the district's trendier clubs. Stephens could get us through the crowds of bikers and their babes with a wave of his hand.

First, we strolled into Lucky Strike Lanes, a retro bowling alley where you could toss a ball down neon-lit lanes or gather in the lounge with drinks in glowing cups that looked radioactive. The signature mojito was sweetly tart and sold for just $4 during happy hour and $9 after that. "Last Thursday, we made like 400 of them in three hours," the bartender said.

At 7:30 p.m. Tengo Sed Cantina became our fifth stop. A top-shelf margarita, with Padron tequila, was $8.50 and excellent, but reminded us we had not eaten dinner. We went for the El Guapa, which was $25 and billed as "the most bueno party platter of all time." The bar also serves a "hubcap margarita," which is a real vintage chrome hubcap filled to the brim.

Bar No. 6 was Maker's Mark Bourbon House & Lounge, where we got a perfect Manhattan, a golden-hued drink with a cherry resting at the bottom. We had been joined early on by a writer for Southern Living magazine, but she bolted the crawl after the Manhattan. "You newspaper guys are hard core," she muttered, before disappearing into the mass of bikers.

HURTING IN THE MORNING
Raglan Road, an Irish pub, was a real treat. The entire wood interior came from old pubs around Dublin, seven shipping containers full. I was heading for a Boddington's Cream Ale before Mahoney announced that she had a favorite here, a "Black Velvet" made from Magner's Irish Cider beer and Guinness. It was so good we broke our vow and ordered another. Suddenly, a young costumed dancer climbed on the table in front of me and did a spirited jig while the two-man band played. "That's Danielle," Stephens said. "Every man in Kansas City who sees her dance is in love with her."

Famous Dave's Bar-B-Que may have good barbecue, but the "Sweet Momma's Punch" was meant for sorority girls. The Montana Margarita at Ted's Montana Grill, that's Ted as in Turner, was much better. Maybe it was the hand-squeezed lemons, or the Jose Cuervo 1800.
The bartender noticed me taking notes and asked about the crawl. A biker was drinking with his lady at the bar and eavesdropped. "You guys are getting paid to get drunk — that's awesome!" he yelled. "But you're gonna be hurting in the morning."

My notes, by the way, were starting to look like I was writing with the wrong hand.

At 9:54 p.m., we took a breather at stop No. 10, a fast-food place called chefBurger that made spiked milk shakes. The Grasshopper was mint ice cream, chocolate sauce, a mashed Oreo cookie and Creme de Menthe, and sold for $8.85.

The PBR (Professional Bull Riders) Big Sky Cowboy Bar was my most momentous stop. I was watching the guys fall off the mechanical bull, when a roar indicated a better show was starting at the bar. Three female bartenders in cowboy hats jumped on the bar to dance, removing their cowboy shirts to reveal black bras, but keeping on the hats.
I got the attention of one, and she said the signature serving was a can of Monster energy drink that had to be "shotgunned." When I looked puzzled, she jumped down and came around front to demonstrate. Using a can opener to puncture the bottom of the sideways can, she popped the top, and the contents sprayed all over her front. She gave what was left to me.

The scene was even more lively next door at Angels Rock Bar, a high-intensity club with strobe lights, heavy chains for curtains, and bartenders in fish-net stockings. "We don't have signature drinks, we have signature shots," said one. She poured a shot, with a chaser, but neither Mahoney nor I could choke it down. The main ingredient was Jagermeister, and the concoction was called "liquid cocaine."

ONE FOR THE ROAD
At 10:44, we could see light at the end of the tunnel, finding an ultra chic respite at Mosaic, which specializes in "bottle service" at its tables. Bartender Katie Garcia made a "watermelon wine cooler," which had vodka over muddled fresh watermelon, topped off with white wine and sugar on the rim. Delicious, and $10.

No. 14 was Gordon Biersch Brewery Restaurant, where we ordered a flight of beer samplers. Flying Saucer Draught Emporium also specialized in beer, offering 75 on tap and a total of 225. A computer kept score for the bar's leading beer drinkers and the top spot was claimed by one Michael Krueger, who had sampled 111. Hah, he should spend a night or two with Mahoney and me.

Fuego was a walk-up bar, serving draft beer. No. 17 was supposed to be Vinino Wine Bar & Bistro, but it had closed early. A glass of wine didn't sound too appealing, anyway. We headed to McFadden's Sports Saloon, where the signature drink was Three Olives grape vodka and Sprite for $5.75. Ten TVs were going, and Nate Bagby and Seasonal Labor were playing.

We finished at No. 18, an open-air seating area called the Living Room in the middle of the outdoor plaza. The last of the bikers was straggling about, and we relaxed after a hard night's work on the comfy seats. The signature drink was a KC Crush, made with Bombora vodka, fresh squeezed lemon and lime, simple syrup and Sprite for $7. It was so refreshing I considered ordering another one, for a brief moment.
Perusing my notes at midnight to clarify the jumbled entries, I asked Mahoney, "Do you realize what we drank tonight?"
"No," she replied. "And please don't tell me."