What time is it again? Even though it’s situated in one of the most desirable residential neighborhoods on the hill, Little Sun still feels like a secret. The bartender keeps pulling that lever on the juice press, squeezing fresh grapefruit into the third, fourth, fifth greyhound. It’s a place for close talking, for the solo drinker wanting a Pimm’s cup made right instead of a Manny’s, for the last stop on a third date. A warm bowl of assorted nuts makes up the entirety of the food menu, but if you’re going for food, you’re missing the point. There are hints of paradise-the tiki cocktails, the bamboo furniture, exotic wall murals of unknown locales-but the interior is in perpetual dusk, even during the stellar afternoon happy hour.
Whereas the Sun Liquor distillery on Pine welcomes passersby with its tall windows, vats of gin and vodka, wide booths made for clinking glasses to boisterous toasts, Little Sun is a den hidden in a forgotten corner of the tropics. At some point we started calling it Little Sun, the original Sun Liquor situated on that surprising block of food and drink among the lush trees and stately brick apartments on the north end of Summit.
