the pink palace, 1930's.
just outside the lawns of the beverly hills hotel, you take the path that leads to the polo lounge. passing by bungalow number four, you discretely nod to gable and lombard.
you arrive at the watering hole and find it filled with scents of musk, cigar, rye, and celebrity... having just returned from his polo match, you overhear will rogers humoring fairbanks and tracy stating "all i know is just what i read in the papers, and that's an alibi for my ignorance".
the bartender knows your drink and gives a stiff pour. a reserved booth with a shiny black box of chocolate on the table awaits. you sit, sip, then open the box. immediately after your first bite of chocolate, you are overwhelmed with chocolate transcendence that encompasses the feel and aromas of the room.
this bar is luxury, lust, and a must.