Receiving balloons on a random Wednesday: nice surprise.
Receiving a massive 1920s-themed pleasure palace on a random Wednesday: nicer surprise.
And since we’re all out of balloons...
Surprise: here’s Carrie Nation, your new multi-chambered cocktail emporium that would like nothing more than to place you in the loving arms of way too much brown alcohol, now open on Beacon Street.
As far as Beacon Hill libation camps go, this is... a big one of those. Vintage lighting. Red leather thrones. Dark wood everything. It’s all very Hemingway & Gellhorn meets Redford’s Gatsby.
The kind of place where you might find yourself in the throes of some healthy career competition between the genders. Especially if you come after work. Which you should probably definitely do.
Your first move: finding the brown-liquor-soaked ivory-white bar and calling for a classic Manhattan. It’s aged in charred new American oak by your friendly barkeep. Oh, and look. A flock of interns showed up. They’re sampling rabbit pie and house-bottled, carbonated Negronis in the front lounge. Maybe you should join them. Maybe you should sample that stuff, too.
And maybe you should also keep an eye out for the late-night speakeasy lounge in the back, complete with a pool table and another full bar. Because that’s coming soon.
You don’t need a secret password or anything. It’s literally just down the back hall.
Receiving a massive 1920s-themed pleasure palace on a random Wednesday: nicer surprise.
And since we’re all out of balloons...
Surprise: here’s Carrie Nation, your new multi-chambered cocktail emporium that would like nothing more than to place you in the loving arms of way too much brown alcohol, now open on Beacon Street.
As far as Beacon Hill libation camps go, this is... a big one of those. Vintage lighting. Red leather thrones. Dark wood everything. It’s all very Hemingway & Gellhorn meets Redford’s Gatsby.
The kind of place where you might find yourself in the throes of some healthy career competition between the genders. Especially if you come after work. Which you should probably definitely do.
Your first move: finding the brown-liquor-soaked ivory-white bar and calling for a classic Manhattan. It’s aged in charred new American oak by your friendly barkeep. Oh, and look. A flock of interns showed up. They’re sampling rabbit pie and house-bottled, carbonated Negronis in the front lounge. Maybe you should join them. Maybe you should sample that stuff, too.
And maybe you should also keep an eye out for the late-night speakeasy lounge in the back, complete with a pool table and another full bar. Because that’s coming soon.
You don’t need a secret password or anything. It’s literally just down the back hall.
