“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,
for good booze flowed, but we had to face some lines.”*
For the last two-ish years, DC has been torn between two drink dens specializing in superlatively mixed craft cocktails. They both turn out drinks unseen elsewhere in the city, if not the world, and they both have their fair share of devotees. But the two could not be more different. One is overly exclusive, in-your-face-with-upper-class-hipster-arrogance†, shrouded in too-low light, and with a door policy rarely seen outside Moscow nightclubs. The other is welcoming, catering to and attracting all types – and the light is better.
They are the Gibson and the Passenger, and I favor the latter. Here’s why: