Hyped and decidedly over-hyped at that-Mayahuel, latest-born booze-house to serious cocktail-or team, Death and Co., has recently soft-opened for friends and family, with a TBA plan for opening to the public. This East Village spot, named for the female divinity linked with the maguey plant (which the tequila ingredient, Agave, is extracted from) is less than heavenly.
Inside, a quaint row of seated-communes which are fit more for confessing sins, rather than imbibing them, sits parallel to an equally miniature bar. Behind the bar, a fantastic array of tequilas (and mezcal, too) sits atop backlit mantles, posing as the best kind of altar there is. But, not so fast cowboy – do not plan on booking this shrine for your nuptials - in fact; don’t even plan on meeting your future honey here. This scene is for a nervous duo on a first date or a floundering couple in need of a knock-out concoction to ignite lost spark. Singles and large parties need not apply; unless downing shots solo is your idea of a party or awkward silences and forced jokes are your forte.
You will find the most amicable ambiance in the sinister, attic-like, second floor lounge. The subdued red lighting, coupled with blood-red and deep-purple stained glass windows, retains a strangely sexual air; prompting an undeniable desire to carry on in a dirtier fashion than the surrounding smoke-singed, floral wallpaper. Exhibitionism isn’t your style? Then have a quiet go at text-sex, or a refined conversation, in the very least.
Atmosphere aside, Mayahuel’s cocktail servers are super-knowledgeable and sweeter than the countless tequila-based infusions on the menu. However, don’t expect to be served robust pitchers of margarita here; this is not your neighborhood cantina. The cocktail portions are small, but with purpose. Each recipe focuses on accentuating the taste of tequila, rather than masking it with every fruit flavor under the sun. In spite of the drinks’ compacted dimensions, thirst for a second is not likely to ensue, especially at $14-16 a pop. Mayahuel deserves credit for its distinctive creations, but this place is a bit too serious for our taste.
Our advice: Pray to the ‘goddess of agave’ that Mayahuel’s followers seek a one-stop-shop to test their liquor-tasting limits, rather than a hip, new scene to be seen.