Many cultures give praise to their various gods of fertility, although in America, he bears only one face: Antonio Cromartie. Paying tribute to the Hopi version of Cromartie with a Southwestern tequila bar: Kokopelli
From an event planner who wanted a bar worthy of his happenings and a chef eager to display her serious Southwestern chops, Kokopelli's an airy, elegant joint with a front anchored by a booze-shelf-ringed stone-topped bar, a banquette'd back split by cascades of beaded curtains, and a menu of about 40 tequilas -- which according to your Senor Frog's shirt, is equivalent to 13.333 floors. Edibles include an ahi tequila crudo on a tortilla w/ garlic avocado crema; spicy crab cakes over a candied orange & fennel salad; chili-grilled salmon w/ crispy brie leaf and a Southwestern succotash; and crispy quail in cayenne honey, also the call of every yuppie wife come Porsche Christmas commercial season. Meanwhile, the extensive library of tequila is leveraged for blanco/ reposado/ anejo rails (including premiums like Herradura Suprema and Partida Elegante) and cocktails like the Blood Orange Martini (Corzo Silver, Patron Citronge, blood orange simple syrup, lime juice, black smoke salt rim) and The Onyx, made of Patron XO Cafe, coconut milk, and shaved coconut -- also how you classify fans who daren't try to reach Conan's facial hair greatness
If you'd rather drink stuff from a grape than a cactus, they're doing reds like a Portuguese Periquita plus whites like a Spanish Pansa Blanca, which it can safely be said Antonio Cromartie was definitely not shooting-a.
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