Maybe PDT wishes it didn't tell ...

For all the ribbing that PDT's been getting (sssshhhh ... we're an ultra-secret speakeasy! Now let's hire a publicist!), the most oxymoronic not-so-underground underground bar seems to have created its own backlash. Still, with all the potshots being hurled at it, few have really bothered to mention that the place ain't half that bad, peeps. Seriously, give it a break.

(For the PDT virgins: It stands for "Please Don't Tell," and you access the bar through a phone booth located inside Crif Dogs, in the EV.)

We swung by recently, and getting in was a breeze. In fact, we kinda looked like morons because everyone seemed to know to make a beeline for the phone booth. We, on the other hand, made a beeline for what we thought was a phone booth, but which turned out to be the bathroom. Nice.

After speaking into a small intercom in the booth, you'll see the wall open up and you've suddenly got a bouncer standing between you and what looks like your Uncle Joe's swanky basement love shack: taxidermy, wood, dark, moody. He'll ask if you have a reservation (his name's Brian, in case you wanna seem mondo cool. Sweet guy. Has a headset. Looks like he's gonna take your HSN order for wrinkle cream.), but he'll probably end up just making you wait at Crif and have a hot dog. Within three minutes, we were in. That's it?! Come on, Brian, we were ready to bribe you with our leftover hot dog.

The place is narrow and kinda cramped, with a few seating areas and a lit bar counter. Intricate wood slats on the ceiling. Strange "Antique Roadshow"-type paintings. We can live with that. But overall, surprisingly chill. Crowd was mellow and not scene-y, at least on that particular night. Signature cocktails seemed to be heavy on the bitters -- not really our thing. Stuck to champagne and a Riesling. I think. Sorry, 'tis a blur ... might've been kinda drunk already.

Too bad the place is hampered by its gimmicky antics, which is what everyone has ended up focusing on. Then again, it probably would've wound up being just another bar if it didn't pull a few stunts, and we wouldn't have written about it. So there you go.

 Photo by: wheat_in_your_hair / catherine