The sheer scale of Untitled, an 18,000-square-foot speakeasy, makes it a little hard to keep up such pretenses as "secret" or "underground lair." But it’s always better to cop your cocktail conceptualizing (and the food, for that matter) from the Prohibition Era than from the post-Millennial twee that haunts so many serious new imbibing destinations. And there’s something kind of cooly meta about calling your place Untitled (it’s sort of like naming your kid Noname).
Make no mistake, this is no six-table basement hideaway. Rather, it is labyrinthine supper clubbing to the extreme, with a large-boothed dining area, a whiskey-focused library room, and a lounge with a bar the length of a couple of healthy giraffes. There are the usual text message procedures and special VIP keys and whatnot, to add the frisson of challenge to the proceedings. All sorts of retro naughty entertainments will also be regularly proffered, with Bally Hoo! being the high-profile Friday night fete. Unititled…unfettered.
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