Yesterday we were reading about the new speakeasy craze in the New York Times, and William Grimes listed a few of the first wave: "Their name is legion: the Varnish in Los Angeles; Bourbon & Branch in San Francisco; Speakeasy in Cleveland; the Violet Hour in Chicago; Manifesto in Kansas City, Mo.; Tavern Law in Seattle (scheduled to open later this month)." Who's so dialed-in they can make the Times without being open? Chef/owners Brian McCracken and Dana Tough of Spur. Tavern Law will be a part of Trace Lofts, on Capitol Hill.



What is it exactly about these places (and we should throw Knee High into the mix, since they seem to be in on the fad as well) that makes them "speakeasys"? Frankly, I can't figure it out. They're not illegal, everyone knows where they are - heck, you don't even need a secret password to get in!
Why can't we just call them what in point of fact they are: hipster bars with retro Prohibition-era ambiance. It's a bit of a mouthful I realize, but also a much more accurate description.
Seconded.
Actually, some of them do make you use a password, Comte, but you get no argument from me. It's just more pillaging of the half-remembered past for decorative effect. Your description is apt. I suppose Capitol Hill should take pride in having had an actual speakeasy--the one that, naturally, got busted and closed down.
And let's not forget my favorite speakeasy in Belltown that went legit and went to shit.
There are more out there, but they won't be covered.
And I love these places, but I agree-- they are not Speakeasies. I call them Speak-ish-es. And I love the Knee High's drinks. The Bourbon Cooler was it? Delicious.
Really? Nobody on my "Speak-ish-es" comment? Damn, I thought I had gold there.
Hmm, maybe we should get "likes" added to comments, too, Troy. Obviously silent appreciation isn't going to do the trick.
I need validation. All the time.