A subtle clue that a cocktail bar pays attention to details, and their bottom line, can be gleaned from the kind of ice they serve in their drinks.
If you’re anything like me, a middle aged American dude with an honest, if ironic, amusement for the finer, “authentic” trappings of bourgeois consumerism, by now you’ve gone down the mixological rabbit hole and filled your cabinet with obscure spirits named Byrrh, Luxardo and Chartreuse, and at the very least you’ve stocked a bottle of the increasingly ubiquitous amaro Campari.
Of course, you’ve also had the pleasure to experience solid spheres of ice in a rocks glass full of liquor at a swanky, leathered lounge and, after determining that this must be near the Platonic ideal of the cocktail “cube,” you promptly returned home to Google how to accomplish such a feat.
At Cafe Libero, the effort is crystal clear: the mixology matters, the hosts are friendly and gracious, the space is decidedly pleasant, the patio perfect for a respite from the rain, and the associated vibe is intentional without a hint of pretentiousness.
Tucked in a cozy lane beside NTNU, Cafe Libero is known for its Whiskey Coffee and serving as a hideout for faculty and young intellectuals seeking refuge from the weather, managing procrastination anxiety, or contemplating the emerging complexity of Taiwanese identity on the razor’s edge of nationhood.
Certainly worth a stop and several returns. But be honest with yourself, you know full well that the purpose of those large spheres of ice is to take up space, so you’re paying for the aesthetic as much as the spirits, and the fare at Libero offers no exception.
Overheard:
