I prefer my infused vodka savory: garlic, jalapenos, horseradish, yay! And the best garlic version I've had, all you vampires beware, is at Russian Samovar. Located in the weird upper fifties area of midtown, a stones throw from the Russian Vodka Room, (that I have to admit I would lean towards for over all experience), the place feels worn, like all the jewel tones, leather banquets, and brothel fringe hanging lamps were once the shining crown in many a dashing Russian New Yorker's night, but has since faded a bit to feel well loved and lived in and classically non contrived.
The people we encountered with my parents one night, nearly all Russians themselves seemed like old friends of the place, though I've heard it can gather a decidedly different crowd at times thanks to it's cameo in Sex and the City (Mikhail Baryshnikov is a co-owner of Samovar).
The meals here are pricey and not particularly memorable, but the piano player, who is only rivaled by the guy at Sammy's Romanian Steakhouses, in my opinion and those expertly infused vodkas are the real draws. Pull up a stool next to some gold chains, leather jackets and the occasional knock out Russian women in furs and see how garlic vodka is done.
I hope mine turns out as well for my upcoming Halloween party.
But what do you think?