Yes, of course we heard the douchedrums beating for The Franklin Mortgage & Investment Co., the speakeasy/artinisal cocktail joint we told you about set to soft-open tonight in the old Bar Noir space. How could we not? After all, these are Kade-ian times we’re living in, and somewhere along the line, Rittenhouse Square became the epicenter of all things douche, spray-tanned and banal. But we have this to report: We slid into The Franklin last night for the friends and family preview, and here’s the thing — The Douche Class is going to have a hell of a time claiming the place, and if they do, well, shame on all of us for not sticking our flag into this sacred ground straight away. Because The Franklin isn’t just another bar, pumping out Kanye remixes for girls whose major cultural touchstone is The Hills and boys who still haven’t gotten the memo regarding untucked striped-button downs and lame Ed Hardy gear. No, by this definition, The Franklin is not a bar at all: The Franklin is a restaurant where they only serve booze. And there’s nothing else quite like it in the city.

After the jump, we gush, and then show you, in full, The Franklin’s six-page cocktail list.

For one, there is that cocktail list. It’s six pages long. It’s epic. And there’s not a single simple-syrup cosmo-tini soul destroyer in the bunch. In fact, The Franklin doesn’t even serve vodka. Not a drop in the whole place. How’s that for Douche Prevention? You are in the provinces of Whiskey and Gin here (along with plenty of other non-vodka spirits), and their rule is firm yet enlightened. We tried the Billy Penn Club (an almost margarita-tasting gin/egg white concoction), the Brown Derby (a bourbon/grapefruit/honey headbanger) and our favorite, the Simó Cup (a gin/Pimm’s/lemon/cucumber salvation). Which is a great start. There’s only five pages of drinks left to try.

For another, The Franklin has employed your favorite knows-his-shit-and-not-playing bartender. Collin from Zahav? He’s there. Nick from Apothecary? He’s there, too. And these guys, and the rest of the staff, are dressed to the nines and here to get you ripped in the most dignified, civilized way possible. There’s precious little bar seating, way at the back, so you’re just gonna have to tell them what you want and have a seat on this soft leather banquette. See? It really is a restaurant!

Which brings us to the look and ambiance of the place: There’s no sign out front. The windows are blacked out. From the outside, it looks like a perfect place to dispose of a dead hooker. Walk through the door, though, and it’s like you’re in the brain of Gore Vidal. The light is soft, yet harsh. Hardwood ceilings and pert little light fixtures give the impression that you could be, in so many ways, at sea. A sound system gently pumps Art Blakey, Os Mutantes and Crystal Stilts (we swear we heard Crystal Stilts) in your general direction. Oh, and did we mention there’s no vodka? C’mon, douchebags. Just try and claim this place. You wouldn’t know what to do with it if you did.

The Franklin Mortgage & Investment Co., 112 S 18th Street. (215) 569-1160

If, by some chance, you did not tune in for this week’s episode of Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations , get on your Tivo or DVR and rectify that ASAP. For this week, Bourdain tackled the cuisine of Sri Lanka, and with it, a dizzying array of dishes that had us Googling “Sri Lankan restaurant Philadelphia PA” inside of the first 15 minutes of the show. (Yes, we always watch TV with a laptop in hand; what, you don’t?) Sadly, we came up with a whole lot of nothing, unless you count Shundeez Persian Restaurant up on Germantown Ave., which would seem to be a mashup of several cuisines. (If you’ve been, please let us know in the comments.) Nevertheless, Tony has sparked our interest — and if we don’t get some of these hopper egg-burrito/spicy meat things soon, well, there’s no telling what we’ll do.