There are nights when all you want is a hole-in-the-wall bar, a shot and a beer.
And then there are those evenings when you feel the distinct urge to throw on something with elbow patches (or at least a collar), sink into something leathery and get your Dead Poets Society on.
For the latter, we're happy to report that there is now Russell House Tavern, opening this Thursday in Harvard Square.
Brought to you by the team behind Grafton Street and Temple Bar (and replacing the former Z Square), RHT is like something out of an Andy Bernard fever dream, all exposed brick and 19th-century origins.
As you walk in, you'll be met with a classic bar—dark wood, Edison bulbs, lusciously black leather bar chairs—the sort of spot where you might find a bearded, tweeded English professor decompressing after a tough Balzac lecture. (Here's hoping the only 18-year-old he's with is a Glenfiddich.)
As you debate the merits of Twain versus Wodehouse, you'll have plenty of fuel—everything from American craft beers to whiskeys, gins, cordials and The Scottish Play: 10-year Laphroaig Scotch, Cynar and Drambuie.
And for date nights and epic poetry deliberations, you'll want to head downstairs to the magnificent, exposed-brick dining room, where you can search for meaning over burgers and oysters.
You may in fact discover that burgers and oysters are the meaning.
And then there are those evenings when you feel the distinct urge to throw on something with elbow patches (or at least a collar), sink into something leathery and get your Dead Poets Society on.
For the latter, we're happy to report that there is now Russell House Tavern, opening this Thursday in Harvard Square.
Brought to you by the team behind Grafton Street and Temple Bar (and replacing the former Z Square), RHT is like something out of an Andy Bernard fever dream, all exposed brick and 19th-century origins.
As you walk in, you'll be met with a classic bar—dark wood, Edison bulbs, lusciously black leather bar chairs—the sort of spot where you might find a bearded, tweeded English professor decompressing after a tough Balzac lecture. (Here's hoping the only 18-year-old he's with is a Glenfiddich.)
As you debate the merits of Twain versus Wodehouse, you'll have plenty of fuel—everything from American craft beers to whiskeys, gins, cordials and The Scottish Play: 10-year Laphroaig Scotch, Cynar and Drambuie.
And for date nights and epic poetry deliberations, you'll want to head downstairs to the magnificent, exposed-brick dining room, where you can search for meaning over burgers and oysters.
You may in fact discover that burgers and oysters are the meaning.
