Poured by Moonlight
Prices are in silver crescents — the only currency accepted this side of sleep. Just emote your order to the bartender.
Shaken under the skylight
Silver gin, elderflower and a drop of bottled moonbeam. Served with a sugared crescent on the rim.
Smoked dark rum stirred over a black ice sphere. The orange peel is lit at the table.
Blue curaçao, coconut and sea salt foam that rises and falls with the moon.
Spiced apple brandy, ginger beer and cinnamon in a copper mug.
Lavender-infused whiskey, honey and lemon. Sip slowly; it tells you secrets.
Sparkling pear wine with edible shimmer that swirls like a little galaxy.
All the magic, none of the hangover
Butterfly pea tea that turns violet when you add the lemon. Make a wish first.
Cold-pressed blackberry, apple and mint over crushed ice.
Vanilla bean soda with a float of moon-white cream.
Grapefruit, rosemary and tonic with a glowing citrus twist.
For long talks by the hearth
Delicate white tea steeped only by moonlight. Pairs well with gossip.
Dark chocolate, chili and a marshmallow shaped like a sleepy owl.
Chamomile, lemon balm and honey. Guaranteed to make you yawn.
Spiced chai topped with frothed milk and a dusting of golden star sugar.
From the night kitchen
Three wheels of moon-aged cheese, honeycomb, figs and seeded crackers.
Crispy fish cakes with lemon-dill sauce, caught at high tide.
Hand-cut fries in crescent, half and full-moon shapes, with three dips.
Steamed mushroom and leek dumplings with a sesame-soy glaze.
One more before bed
Vanilla bean cheesecake with a perfectly round blueberry glaze.
A pair of lotus-seed mooncakes stamped with the Reverie crest.
Starlight ice cream, popping candy and a sparkler. Make a wish.
Lavender shortbread, still warm. A free one comes with every room key.
Once in a blue moon the bartender mixes something that isn't on any menu. Nobody remembers what's in it. Everybody remembers drinking it.