If you manage to locate this cool candlelit bunker, you will be guaranteed a good time. For once, here is a ‘speakeasy' in the true clandestine sense of the term – although it seems half the City is already in on the secret. Inside, it feels like an old Virginia coal mine invaded by a hollerin' hound-dog soundtrack. Park yourself on a high banquette and sink a mean dirty-sweet or dry martini, pear and cardamom sidecar, Lynchburg-Leith lemonade or chilli and lemongrass margarita. Beer drinkers have Cusqueña, Cruzcampo and Timothy Taylor Landlord, while grape interest starts well below £20. Staff are as cute as the bar's ‘trick' entrance, and the food is Happy Days/Brady Bunch stuff: onion rings, buffalo chicken, chilli cheese fries and viciously spiced meatballs – definitely not for ‘scaredy cats'.
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