What’s the quickest way to find a secret bar that feels like a speakeasy?
Last night, I slipped into a narrow alley in Shoreditch, pushed a nondescript door, and found a 12‑seat bar with a single vintage jukebox. The bartender poured a gin‑based cocktail that tasted like citrus and rosemary, then slid a note saying “No ID needed until midnight.” That’s the kind of…