bootleg hooch. Their work marked the start of cocktail culture in America. These elements — of unmarked locations and serious mixology — were the base of speakeasies that began opening on the coasts, notably in New York City, in the 1990s and early 2000s. Even those spots weren’t exactly taking cues from the Prohibition era. Angel’s Share, which opened in New York in 1993, was inspired by Japan’s rich bartending history. Milk & Honey — often cred- ited for its impact on today’s cocktail culture — followed in 1999, heavily influenced by Angel’s Share. No matter, the speakeasy moniker stuck. In the 2000s, bars such as New York’s Please Don’t Tell and San Francisco’s Bourbon & Branch cemented the trend. More and more versions of these hidden bars emerged, leaning into what we now regard as tropes of the genre: hidden doors, passwords, house rules, Edison bulb-lit rooms, suspendered barkeeps and all. Speakeasies spread to the Valley When Michael Merendino signed the lease for his restaurant Crust Simply Italian in Chandler, the historic San Marcos Hotel space had a basement — a Valley rarity. He intended to open a wine bar there but quickly changed his mind after a visit to New York where he experienced the thriving cocktail scene. “I saw these two or three (bars). They were just serving cocktails,” Merendino recalls. “That was the first time I ever saw that, and it was really authentic in New York. I said to myself, ‘This is it, this is what I’m going to do,’ and it grew into what we are today.” He opened The Ostrich in 2015 with a commit- ment to making refined classic cocktails. Initially, the concept required a bit of education for guests. “The term mixologist and craft cocktail is so common today. Ten years ago, it (needed) explaining to people,” Merendino recalls. Since then, cocktail culture has exploded across the Valley, including at Merendino’s restaurants. Each of his East Coast-style eateries now has a hidden avian-themed bar. Other speakeasies joined the mix, including Melinda’s Alley, which opened downtown in 2016, The White Rabbit in downtown Gilbert in 2018, and Pigtails and Stardust Pinbar in 2019, among others. But it wasn’t always cocktails and success. Some of the very things that define these bars are the same elements that can garner reactions ranging from confusion to eye-rolling and disdain: lines, waits to get drinks, exclu- sivity, a less raucous atmosphere that put a focus on the drinks. After the initial resurgence of popularity, the aesthetics of the speak- easy became linked to hipster pretension or were dismissed as gimmicks. Epitaphs for the genre have been written time and again. While Baron notes there’s nothing wrong with taking one’s craft seriously, “taking yourself too seriously is where you can go wrong,” he says of that backlash. And despite the calls of its near-constant impending demise, the speakeasy, or at least the term, persists. Merendino quips that even Disney parks have hidden bars that serve craft cocktails now, but he says he loves the format, calling speakeasies “the next level of hospitality.” Use of the term informs customers of that elevation and exclusivity. “I think when we say speakeasy, it’s because we’re trying to curate an understanding within our guests’ image that they’re not just going to any old bar,” Baron says. More than just a place to eat and drink’ What does it take to be a modern speakeasy? While there are no set rules or guidelines, many proprietors agree that maintaining the allure of mystery, exclusivity and elevated mixology are today’s hallmarks. Cibor worked at speakeasies such as The Ostrich and tiki-inspired UnderTow before helming the bar team at Tell Your Friends. She’s seen elements that were key to the first wave of Valley speak- easies, such as passwords and the scavenger hunt- esque journey to find the entry, give way to different formats. “The places that are opening up are a little higher-end, and there’s dress codes, nice dinners and all of that,” she says. Ferguson, of Creation Hospitality, says he doesn’t care for the term “vibe-dining,” but notes it’s the best way to explain the proliferation of experiential restaurants and bars that millennials, in particular, are seeking out. “It’s more than just a place to eat and drink,” he explains, noting that live music in Tell Your Friends’ lounge is an important aspect of the experience. How bars cultivate their version of a speakeasy vibe can vary. Melinda’s Alley leans into its history as Phoenix’s original speakeasy that is “carved into the foundation of what was the Adams Hotel,” its bar manager Hidden Haunts from p 15 >> p 18 Cibor has trained and worked her way up at some of the Valley’s leading cocktail bars including UnderTow. (Photo by Cassie Brucci) Tell Your Friends features live musicians, such as singer Venessa Mendez. The addition of music is a key part of the Gatsby-themed speakeasy. (Photo by Tirion Boan) The “Malinda” mural by Hugo Medina and Darrin Armijo-Wardle hints at the underground bar’s entrance. Bar manager PJ Baron welcomes customers inside. (Photo by Sara Crocker)
