2 minute read: one of my favourite bars in the world with top-notch service and a delightful array of sensory pleasures.

I have the global luxury of living within walking distance of one of the world’s greatest bars. Officially ranked THE best on numerous occasions, Lyaness is the brainchild of Ryan Chetiyawardana.

“He should be a wanker” someone said, given how successful he has been at crafting such powerful experiences in a famously competitive market “but he’s genuinely a nice guy.“

The bar is located in the Sea Containers Hotel on London’s South Bank, close to the Globe Theatre and the Tate Modern, looking over to St. Paul’s Cathedral and the City of London.

Previously run as ‘Dandelyan’, the venue was refurbished and reopened in 2019. Other bars in the Chetiyawardana repertoire include Seed Library in Shoreditch, Super Lyan in Amsterdam and Silver Lyan in Washington DC.

It’s very easy to walk past the venue, especially if the Southbank is busy. It might give the impression of being a standard hotel bar, particularly with it’s deceptive low lighting – but don’t be fooled.

You step in and the immediate impression is not the decor. It’s the aura of personalities. Every single member of staff is compassionate, fun and brilliantly professional.

They are funny, charming and extensively accommodating, with incredible attention to detail.

I was sat at the bar and was immediately served a glass of water. This has become such a benchmark for me. It’s such a simple gesture of hospitality, and a key taster of the customer service you are about to receive, but so often overlooked.

They topped up my water countless times and were regularly wiping down the bar surfaces and generally tending to things between pouring drinks.

I was also wearing a kilt for St. Andrew’s Day so almost immediately after the water, I was handed a beautiful glass of sherry cask Bunnnahabhain on the house, with a welcoming slàinte from the bartender. What a thoughtful treat. Not just a standard, pre-planned amuse-bouche de booze, but spontaneous, thoughtful and all-round lovely.

They’re very fast, and if they’re not charming the customers or bantering each other, they’re focussed on delivery, saying things like “good to go” like Amazon employees.

“There’s no ‘I’ in Lyaness” I heard one of the bartenders quip whilst helping another out with a recipe.

And they were so attentive. Every now and then I was handed something to try, such as this delicious toasted flatbread garnish with flavoured gel and micro-herbs. Not only was it delicious, but this sort of treatment has cemented the venue as my absolute top preference for a solo date in London.

The Drinks

So let’s get down to the martinis. I usually go straight for a classic martini, dry with a twist. This is so I can measure the responses and judge whether or not I’m in for a good experience or not.

I didn’t need to worry with the staff at Lyaness though. I had no doubt in my mind that I would be taken care of. And anyway, I was already hyper-fixated with their hot take on the classic, with their unfiltered and potato-ferment based Boatyard gin martini.

The elegant glassware had been kept in the fridge (which seems standard for many of their cocktails). The drink had a light aroma of a starchy ferment, but the flavour was unexpectedly sweet.

It was beautifully smooth and ice cold. The mouthfeel was silky, and put me in mind of a rice-washed spirit (like the ones they serve at bird, CPH) so the fact that this was made with mildly fermented potato felt like a delightful serendipity.

It also put me in mind of a sweet, cloudy sake. Absolutely delicious.

A gentle surprise

But then, at the very end, I suddenly noticed there was something at the bottom of the glass… qu’est que ce?

Hidden in plain sight for the entire duration of the drink, it wasn’t until the last few sips that I noticed three gummy pearls. Like jumbo caviar, or sweet and sour haribo, they were made with pureed fruit juices and added a delightful little surprise of sweetness and satisfying jelly texture to round off the drink. What fun!

The Dry Martini

If you like your martinis dry this particular recipe might not be for you, but I can assure you, they will be able to deliver, because I ordered a stone cold classic martini next.

Naturally I was asked all the reassuring questions: sweet/dry, lemon/olive etc and I had it shaken, with lemon peel. They use Beefeater as their house gin – a solid, unpretentious decision. Their vermouth is a blend of Dolin and Cocchi.

The bartender provided me with a long lemon garnish that resembled a pair of horns. I normally like my lemon peel trimmed a little so you’re not left fending for your dignity as the garnish slaps you about the face when you drink, so this seemed a little on the large size for me.

Except with the excellent skill of the bartender and very subtly fluted shape of the glass, the garnish sat snugly in place and remained there for the duration of the beverage. It wasn’t a traditional V-shaped glass but given how the garnish works so well I have no complaints.

Breaking Glass

At some point in the evening, someone broke a glass. I have spoken about the missed opportunity in the Nordic countries regarding this occurrence. When someone breaks a glass in a bar in Copenhagen or Stockholm for instance, there’s an intake of painful silence, a sense of embarrassment. This does not happen in the UK and it’s one of the things I think we do well. If you’re British or you’ve spent time in a British establishment and someone breaks a glass, you know the drill.

Someone broke a glass by the bar and there was a rousing cheer and even someone shouting “Opa!” from the stylish but sumptuously comfortable chairs. How could smashed glass actually enhance the night? I don’t know, but it did. The crowd were fun. Sometimes you might find the odd business traveller exhausted from jet lag and meetings recuperating with a restorative beverage, but it won’t take them long to revive in Lyaness.

The revolving cocktail chairs by the window are possibly the most comfortable I have ever enjoyed a martini in. It’s a real balm after the bustle of central London, particularly if you’ve battled your way down the riverbank. The music was also great, with a DJ playing a series of upbeat but not over-imposing retro classics all evening.

At £17 for a martini in Central London on the banks of the River Thames overlooking one of the world’s most recognisable skylines with the most top-notch service this is incredible value for money.

And when I asked for the bill, I was also handed a small taster glass of a tequila cherry gimlet. I almost wept with how nice they had been to me. And obviously the sweet and sour dessert taster was delicious.

If you sit at the bar it’s the absolutely best spot for a solo date. Dress up and let the staff look after you.

Thank you Lyaness! I’ll be seeing you all again very soon.