A re-purposed gas station? Check. Hand-built bar and gallery space? Double check. A summer-drinking paradise, Or has an open, airy layout that spills out into the forecourt much as the broken-down autos of its progenitor certainly did but without the overheated transmission-fluid aroma. The bartender puts as much love into his mixology as did the 1950s grease-monkeys and the appetizers are equally well-considered. We enjoyed the gallery of Iceland-inspired wearable-, useable-, and displayable-art in the available-light of happy hour, but rest assured you can critique the eclectic collection equally well as you wind down your evening.
Own or manage this property? Claim your listing for free to respond to reviews, update your profile and much more.