Aproper dive bar should be as much about the spirit of its characters (aka alcoholics) as about the lack of polish. I had found a favorite in Rae’s Lounge in Culver City, only to show up one day to locked doors and a notice that it was soon to become the Westside branch of the Bigfoot Lodge, that synthetic log cabin-style bar in Atwater Village. In search of a new haunt, I headed to a minimall on Sepulveda that is home to two of the last remaining dives in L.A.: Roger’s Exciting Tattle Tale Room, with its red, white, and blue backlit sign, and the Scarlet Lady Saloon, its name spelled out in hokey western script.I’d heard there was a feud between the joints, so I sought answers at the aquarium shop, one of two businesses separating them. “In the 20 years I’ve owned this store,” said Ruben Peters, “I’ve never set foot in either place.”

“Some guy got stabbed in the Tattle Tale,” chimed in a (heavily inked) employee. Later I learned the shanking occurred in the parking lot of the adjoining vacuum cleaner store—a fact that didn’t give me much comfort.

I stepped inside the Scarlet Lady at noon. The cowboy motif yielded to a 1970s sports bar complete with a NASCAR-shaped light over the pool table and a dartboard flashing like a slot machine. Watching over the bar was Red, clad in sweat shorts with a braided ponytail sprouting from his balding scalp. Ted Danson he was not. When I mentioned the Tattle Tale, his convivial face turned somber. “I don’t know what their problem is,” he said, “but Roger won’t let his employees in here.” I decided to cross enemy lines.

I pushed open the heavy Dutch doors of the Tattle and waded toward a bar stool, blinded by darkness so thick it had a smell. “Do people still smoke in here?” I asked the bartender, Joanie Pleasant, a name I’m not sure she’d earned. She reached up and wiped the low wood-paneled ceiling with a cocktail napkin to reveal a yellow streak of nicotine. An enlightening trip to the gentlemen’s room uncovered vending machines with glow-in-the-dark condoms and 50¢ matchbook-size pictures of naked ladies. Back at my stool, I became ensnared in a conversation about gout. “Uric acid!” shouted a man with a belt bisecting his spherical stomach. My hour at the Tattle stretched into five; time was obliterated over Pabst Blue Ribbon and stale peanuts, and I was left with this thought: Do these warring bars understand that they are a dying breed that thrives on breakfast whiskey and bad lighting? The only war they should be waging is with time itself.

By Drew Tewksbury

from Los Angeles magazine, September 2009

*

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The Cahuenga Corridor has evolved into the Disneyland of Hollywood, with each bar owning a different theme: Beauty Bar has its salon-style space, Ecco offers eco-friendly clubbing, and Velvet Margarita is a riff on a Tijuana cantina. The corridor’s latest addition, the 1920s-inspired whiskey watering hole Bar Delux, continues the trend.

Delux’s art deco interior is embellished with swooping wood adornments, crystalline chandeliers and Titanic-sized velvet curtains. It’s easy to imagine Howard Hughes sipping a sidecar while Gertrude Stein shares red-snapper ceviche with a wildly gesticulating Truman Capote.

Unlike some other L.A. retro bars, which can seem more like movie sets, Delux feels convincing. The bar pulls off a tricky balancing act: It’s old yet new, swank yet comfortable, energetic yet chill.

But make no mistake—this is no subtle speakeasy. Spacecraft’s Kristofer Keith designed the space with soaring ceilings and a massive wall of green stained glass towering behind the bar, depicting an Emerald City-meets-Metropolis cityscape.

Injecting a touch of class into a street often lined with back-tattooed girls in low-rise jeans and guys sporting faux-hawks, Delux is more than a time warp: It also acts as a safe haven from the barely legal crowd. “We imagine Bar Delux to be a comfortable place for A-listers and a classy crowd,” says general manager Leo Medina. Cahuenga can be a revolving door when it comes to bars and restaurants, but Medina says Delux aims to become an institution. “We’re looking to be here for a long run.”

The cocktails: For the distinguished drinker, Delux serves such genteel cocktails as the Pom Noir, made with Hennessy VS, Grand Marnier and pomegranate syrup, and the Flapper Jack, a concoction of 100-proof applejack, cranberry juice, lemon juice and blackberries.

The booze-drenched food: From the tuna sashimi with vodka and tomato marmalade to the beef tenderloin with Scotch and green peppercorn sauce, Bar Delux breathes life and spice into classic dishes from another era.

Bottom line: Your friends from AA should take a rain check.

By Drew Tewksbury
Special to Metromix
December 3, 2008

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