It’s not cheating on Oktoberfest.
You just happen to be hidden in a new underground wine cave, resting your stein arm with a nice light glass of grüner.
That’s all.
Descend into D’Vine Wine Cellar, a subterranean spot that favors on-tap pinot, pork belly rillettes and unnecessary apostrophes, now open below Downtown’s O Hotel. (See the slideshow here.)
Your new pregame, post-concert or leaving-game-early ritual: descend stairs off the sidewalk. Walk through the door with the golden sheep’s horn and into this exquisite cavern of chandeliers and dark wood. Grab a seat at the long bar or find a suitably dark corner. Begin conversation around Lakers’ hopes/Elton John’s sartorial choices at Staples Center/Lakers’ shame.
Soon, you’ll be cradling glasses of pinot and pondering what lies ahead. The road likely involves pisco, grappa and cognac. Then maybe some oysters, beef tongue pâté or those pork belly rillettes will hit your table.
Just the natural laws of a wine cave.
You just happen to be hidden in a new underground wine cave, resting your stein arm with a nice light glass of grüner.
That’s all.
Descend into D’Vine Wine Cellar, a subterranean spot that favors on-tap pinot, pork belly rillettes and unnecessary apostrophes, now open below Downtown’s O Hotel. (See the slideshow here.)
Your new pregame, post-concert or leaving-game-early ritual: descend stairs off the sidewalk. Walk through the door with the golden sheep’s horn and into this exquisite cavern of chandeliers and dark wood. Grab a seat at the long bar or find a suitably dark corner. Begin conversation around Lakers’ hopes/Elton John’s sartorial choices at Staples Center/Lakers’ shame.
Soon, you’ll be cradling glasses of pinot and pondering what lies ahead. The road likely involves pisco, grappa and cognac. Then maybe some oysters, beef tongue pâté or those pork belly rillettes will hit your table.
Just the natural laws of a wine cave.
