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| - Full Disclosure: My brother works here. Lucky for you, he tried to drown me when I was four years old, so I would never let that influence my review. If anything, I would dock them a star or two for employing someone who would so callously throw a toddler into a pond.* But I'm far too levelheaded to let anything like that color my judgment, or to hold a grudge for twenty-something years.
Anyway. I could drink here all night. Because I like this bar.
1947 is a simple space. The decor is all dark wood and back-lit bottles, and the vibe is warm and friendly. There's a long bar that runs the length of the space, and as far as I can tell, it's all about the whiskey.
I appreciate that they've got at least 25 different bourbons back there, and that the bartenders will mix you a mean Manhattan with any one of them. I haven't had a chance to try any of the food yet, but I did see a man going to town on a burger I gladly would've stolen, and the mac & cheese smelled amazing. Either way, a fireplace and lots and lots of bourbon was all I really wanted anyway.
Although, as a general rule, lots of alcohol and no food can lead to you making an ass out of yourself. I know a guy that once vomited directly onto the shoes of a police officer.
Definitely wasn't me. I don't care what you heard.
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*It was a lot like this: http://whatshouldwecallme.tumblr.com/post/19239895670/my-relationship-with-my-siblings
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