Behind the Orange Door
A night at Seed Library
Looking for a bit of alchemy in NYC? Then make a reservation, find the orange door on 30th off Park, and head down the staircase leading to Seed Library, a small, subterranean sanctuary of a cocktail bar.
The vibe is decidedly 1960s-inspired, with orange and red themes and vintage-style mushroom lamps creating a warm, nostalgic glow. The space is intimate. Maybe eight seats at the bar, around forty-five total. We were tucked away in what I called a “make out booth,” a darling little nook with curtains you could draw for total privacy, but we restrained ourselves.
This New York outpost is the work of Mr. Lyan (Ryan Chetiyawardana), one of the most highly-revered mixologists in the world. His bars in London, Amsterdam, and Washington, D.C. have helped redefine modern cocktail culture, with a focus on experimentation, sustainability, and flavor over spectacle.
Mr. Lyan’s philosophy here centers on “planting seeds” by sharing creative ideas and flavor profiles across the globe. The menu itself is a testament to this rigor, even featuring a graph to track the transition of drinks from light to heavy, allowing guests to navigate the menu with academic precision.
Pro-tip for the over 40 crowd: The menu features fascinating, tiny print detailing the bar’s philosophy. Unless you share my specific brand of nearsightedness, you’ll definitely want to bring your readers.
One thing that sets Seed Library apart is how they bridge the gap between spirits and sobriety, replicating many complex flavors in non-alcoholic, mocktail versions. These aren’t juice concoctions, they are truly crafted beverages, treated as a parallel track, not an afterthought.
Dan and I both started with the S&P Spritz, mine with Grey Goose and bubbles and his, a mocktail. The interplay of yellow bell pepper set off the strawberry beautifully to create an herbaceous, dry profile. It reminded us of a dinner at Next, years ago, where Dan’s strawberry-infused white tea emulated the “backbone” of my pinot noir with startling accuracy.
This mirroring of flavor profiles reflects Mr. Lyan’s magic. His work tends to push ingredients in unfamiliar directions, often using techniques like fermentation or enzymatic treatment to change how flavors behave.
Recommended by our server, my next drink was the Shepard’s Delight, a punchy mix of gin, Maker’s Mark, Concord grape, and raspberry. Less boozy than it sounds, I found both of my drinks to be very balanced—not heavy-handed.
For those with dietary restrictions: while the menu labels some drinks “not veg,” anything listed as “cream” is the real deal, so I steered clear of those.
Dan’s second beverage was the Pear + Apple Tonic. It was delicious and beautifully garnished, though the rectangular artisanal ice cube was so massive it might have been better to have a bit less ice and more sips of the actual beverage.
The service is as charming as the decor. I spent half the night accidentally bumping into the framed seeds hanging in our booth every time I turned to speak to our server, Edgar. He took it in stride, eventually handing us a business card at the end of the evening. Of course it was orange and bore a witty, handwritten plea: “Thank you for joining us friends! Don’t knock over the seeds, please.”
It’s a thoughtful spot that proves great drinks, with or without the booze, just might be about the layers you plant in the glass.