A martini is delivered with a long stem rose carefully bound to its delicate glass stem. It rests upon a linen cocktail napkin embroidered with the words Ritz Paris. Bar Hemingway as its namesake begs, was the sipping and haunting ground of great thinkers of days past. Words were rushed onto pages in dark corners and sketches were penned with quick confession. Keeping court in the 114 year old famed landmark hotel, the dark wood panels are saturated with the confessions of a century. Hemingway and Fitzgerald spent many a blurred exotic eve in the upscale saloon. The myth holds that when World War II set in, Hemingway in his War Correspondent role, liberated the bar from the Nazi’s stronghold. Propped up on a leopard hide, the liquor certainly tastes different with ancient weight as a chaser.