Please note, Super Lyan is now closed. Time Out Editors, December 2018.
Mr Lyan is the LCD Soundsystem of the drinks world. Just as his first bar, the revolutionary White Lyan (famous for its lack of ice and citrus), was the toast of the town, the cocktail star – full name Ryan Chetiyawardana, also of South Bank spin-off bar Dandelyan – called time on his baby. Then, just as the loss sunk in, a comeback was announced. White Lyan was to become sustainable restaurant Cub and, reassuringly, the basement would be as committed to cocktails as ever.
Below ground, White Lyan has had a whirlwind, phonebooth-style costume change into Super Lyan. The look is grungy like before, a tiny brick-walled dive that’s located past some neon, down some stairs. A dance pole from the venue’s grittier pub days remains, surrounded by low-slung booths. The seats at the bar were the busiest on an otherwise quiet night early in the week – and with very good reason.
This is Mr Lyan’s most accessible menu to date. As with all his bars, drinks are explained by flavour profile – you can select something ‘fruity’ or ‘fresh’. Classics are on the menu as opposed to the dreamt-up originals you’d find at Dandelyan. Just don’t expect a martini or a cosmo; these are drinks that have been a little more overlooked. Like the Dog’s Nose Clover Club (nope, I’d never heard of it either), a frothy, zesty (yes, there’s citrus involved!) Guinness-topped wonder.
Every drink is flawless, flavoursome and – like the food upstairs – considerate to the environment. You can take your bamboo straw home if you’re that way inclined. There’s homemade ricotta for snacking, while leftover whey from the cheese-making process is used to make something close to coconut cream that’s then used in a Baha Colada cocktail. Mind blown.
Service was warm, hip hop was blaring and the core message that these drinks rock was never forgotten – on either side of the bar. Talk about a comeback kid.