Pre-Prohibition Boston makes its way west with Commonwealth: a 6000sqft, two-story cocktail bar that's part-speakeasy (candlelight, self-playing piano, antique portraits), part-place-with-a-giant-stuffed-albino-peacock (giant stuffed albino peacock). The 20ft bar downstairs's run by an LA drink-fixer (Thompson Hotel, The Peninsula) who's doing punch bowls, boilermakers, '20s cocktails, and this: a Wild Turkey Rye whiskey sour made with barbecue-flavored bitters, topped with PBR, and garnished with a mesquite salt rim and beef jerky. The roof deck bar's run by, um, the same person, with the same menu as downstairs plus extra dizziness provided by 360-degree views of downtown Las Vegas. And while that's all well and good, you'll want to skip all of it and instead make your way to the private, 28-seat, menu-less speakeasy tucked away behind the manager's office. It's got period-specific music, only serves dark-liquor cocktails, and's only accessible if you score a secret number and text it in advance for a reservation. Oh you want to know what that secret number is?...
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