When we casually stumbled down the stairs of Rittenhouse’s Franklin Mortgage & Investment Co. fresh from a sweaty stint at a stereotypical Penn–packed event, it was as though we'd traveled back in time. Our neon wristbands and dishelved hair were, for once in Philadelphia, dramatically out of place — patent–leather oxfords, a pair of dramatically cut bobs and a fur stole or two would have been more appropriate for this speakeasy–like joint.
Named after the infamous ‘20s alcohol–peddling front, Franklin is first and foremost a “drinking establishment.” Located down a dark stairway between Sansom and Chestnut on the west side of 18th Street, the bar is a food–less mecca for the alcohol–obsesssed.
The decor is a play on reflection — polished hardwood floors, blood–red patent leather couches, subway tiles and granite tables amplify the candlelight and lend the interior a seductive yet warm energy. Though the Tuesday night crowd was sparse, the skinny space is easy to imagine bustling with couples, business partners and cocktail waitresses.
The thick leather–bound menu features rich typography and a six–part series of colorful drink names and exotic ingredients. When paired with the impressively knowledgable (though weary–of–making–specific–suggestions) wait staff, drink categories like “Required Reading,” “Easy Going,” and “I Asked Her For Water, She Gave Me Gasoline” allow you to navigate the drink menu with relative ease.
Our first choices brilliantly expressed the diversity of the Franklin drink menu: the popular Blue’s Explosion —Tennessee whiskey, fresh grapefruit juice, a touch of maple syrup and angostura bitters served on a rock (literally, a huge hunk of ice that won’t melt and dilute your cocktail) — and the seductively named Sleep Is The Cousin Of Death — coffee–infused Jamaican rum and cognac, cane, galliano and heavy cream. The Blue’s Explosion is refreshing, if a little too flavorful; the cocktail tastes just like you’d expect a Pottery Barn Christmas candle would. Conversely, the 'Cousin of Death,’ a more elegant version of a White Russian, is deliciously heavy and well complemented by the twinge of spicy rum. Both cocktails came in frosted glasses, always a nice touch.
For our second round, we opted for the Peckinpah — mezcal, cruzan white rum, house–made habanero blackbery syrup and fresh lime juice — and one of the bar’s three punches. The Franklin devotes an entire paragaph to the joys of punch drinking and why punch is oft misunderstood, so we figured they had to be pretty darn tasty cocktails. The Peckinpah packed quite a punch (“Oh, hey Habanero!”) but was otherwise a pleasing mixture of heat and fruity flavors. The Collective Unconscious punch — cognac, rum, Bacavia arrack (an eastern acohol distilled from sugar cane), loose–leaf lapsang souchong — was spectacular and unusal to be sure. The lapsang souchong really stood out as a peculiar ingredient, but one, which definitely blended wonderfully with the heady cognac.
All cocktails are $12 unless otherwise specified, but these babies are strong and equivalent to three drinks at any campus watering holes. This neo–prohibition bar is quite the treat.
Franklin Mortgage & Investment Co. 112 S. 18th St. (267) 467–3277 Don't Miss: The Collective Unconscious Skip: Asking for advice. Franklin thinks everything's great $$$$
