Slow jam the weekend.
Your Perks: 1) A VIP ticket to a Gatsby-style New Year’s Eve party with free-flowing cocktails and fresh oysters. 2) A private racing lesson with an ex–Formula 1 driver. Buckle up. 3) A slew of vintage Rolex and Cartier watches. Like, basically all of them.
Tonight: You’re having rum with Killspencer, which is bringing its leather goods to a
Westside pop-up this month.
Saturday: You’re partying with Self Edge at the launch of its pop-up shop, which has
plenty of Flat Head jeans from Tokyo.
Sunday: You’re buying something for somebody besides yourself.
Ben Ford heard your plaintive cries for smoked pork chops and tequila Old Fashioneds at L.A. Live. So he upped and moved Ford’s Filling Station there. Just for you. He also sees you when you’re sleeping. And knows when you’re awake.
Prohibition was such a bad idea that it was prohibited. And now:
1) Townhouse and the Del Monte Speakeasy will celebrate its demise with a gratis pig roast before a party
with punch bowls.
2) Every 1933 Group bar (Harlowe, Oldfield’s, Sassafras...) is pouring cocktails for a buck. Stupid
Prohibition.
The time for toddies is now. Because... Saturday you’ll want to focus on more than 60 IPAs from breweries like Three Weavers, Bottle Logic and Russian River at Mohawk Bend. Doors open at 9:30am. No judgments.
You make great tacos. You’ve mastered coffee. Time to challenge yourself with a cannabis cooking class that covers butter, tinctures and oil. Yeah, we know a guy who knows a guy who’s teaching one of those. Tincture... funny word. Tincture.
