character:

B&B is the tie tack of the bar. Gold and black onyx, in two parts. The one forward, ornamental, and a trifle showy (Bénédictine); the other its anchor, behind-the-scenes and strictly functionary (Brandy). The tie tack, mind you, is an accessory one has to know how to use, and, more importantly, when. For much depends upon its context; and knowing when and where and how and with what to use it is the difference between overbearing, overdetermind, get-a-load-of-Mr.-Monopoly-in-the-tie-tack eccentricity, and distinction.

tastes like:

Duke Ellington’s ‘Black & Tan Fantasy.’

pairs nicely with:

Ten past midnight, a full stomach, a gently worn but highly polished brass bar rail, the hot glow of a drawn cigarette within a shadowy club booth, live instrumental jazz (preferably those featuring a liberal use of plunger mutes), the closing stages of a fine dinner at the 21 Club, on one’s 21st Birthday, more or less the last thing one remembers coherently on one 21st birthday and therefore the natural end to the night without need to reflect further or ask questions really; a low-lit lounge or club room, a good snifter, the scent of lingering cigar smoke, stories one has had to wait until certain members of the dinner party are elsewhere to tell, French cuffs with one cuff link missing, questions that begin with the phrase, ‘Do you suppose it is necessarily illegal to—”, and (depending on the city, and the night) ten past five in the morning.