The room
We took the basement because nobody wanted it.
In 2016 the space under 118 Verrill Street had been empty for nine years — a ship chandler's storeroom with a low pressed-tin ceiling, one cold-water tap and no street frontage worth the name. Ines Baldwin had spent eleven years behind other people's bars in Boston and Providence and wanted a room where the bar itself was the whole design brief.
What we built is deliberately small. One walnut bar, thirty-four seats, four bartenders on a busy Saturday and nobody working a section they can't see. Ice is cut in-house each morning. Citrus is pressed at four. Nothing on the list arrives from a gun.
The result is a room that runs on attention rather than volume — which is why we cap the list at nineteen drinks and rewrite it every March and September, and why the person who takes your order is the person who makes it.