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He had been living a life of crime since he was young, both in theft and peddling information to the Downworld. It is said that once his Sight manifested, his family threw him out.
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Though the latent Shadowhunter blood was diminished through the generations, it gave him the Sight and would have allowed him to easily Ascend into a full Shadowhunter if he had chose to. There’s a good dozen-or-so regional brews on tap, though nothing you wouldn’t find elsewhere, so stick to the wine.It is rumored that he was born to an English aristocracy family that had Shadowhunter lineage centuries back. Despite the whole speakeasy vibe, you won’t find any artisanal cocktails here.
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Did we mention there’s a free parking lot? And it’s worth making clear, this is a wine-and-beer-only establishment. Our tip: The off-the-beaten-path location works to your advantage. It’s perfect for pacifying a sweet tooth. End your evening with a tall flute of Spanish Cava-not just because of the Ziggy Stardust reference, but because the Mercat ($8 glass, $30 bottle) is delicate and crisp, with overwhelming notes of pear, papaya and honeysuckle. A solid choice for a lighter white is Le Tracteur Bleu’s Chenin Blanc ($7 glass, $26 bottle), described as “high energy, exuberant, more sophisticated than it gets credit for, also … French.” Does it pair well with Daft Punk? Sure, why not. She describes this particular red as “deep, funky, weird, I can't get enough.” We could have easily guzzled another glass or two. Hailing from the heel of Italy’s boot-a region known for sunshine and white-washed houses, Luftig’s Lee "Scratch" Perry Super Ape pairing is spot-on. Intimate heart-to-hearts happen inside.ĭrink this: Reggae doesn’t jive with everyone, and that’s why it takes a certain kind of individual to relish a glass of Copertino Negroamaro ($9 glass, $34 bottle). The scene: For the most part, The Whisperer is populated by twenty- and thirty-somethings fresh off work and desperately seeking vinotherapy through generous pours.
If the dark and moody interior is putting you to sleep, grab a bench outside and bask in the urban charm of Montana Street.
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Friendly staff, plenty of empty seats and ridiculously indulgent shared plates (fried chicken, spicy mac and cheese and “great freakin’ ribs” available until 12:30am every day) make it the perfect place for catching up with old friends, neighbors and colleagues. It might not always be the first choice, but it’s easy. For Echo Park locals, The Whisperer is the place to head to when their go-to bars are slammed. Good for: Wine- and chicken wing-fueled gabfests. Mellifluous imbibing doesn’t have to take place in the dark, by the way-there’s a patio out front.
Beverage director Amy Luftig assures liquid satisfaction for each kind of fan, with reds, whites and bubbly from Sicily to Silicon Valley at every price point. An obliging menu insists White Album listeners opt for a transcendent Portuguese white blend, while fans of the Rolling Stones’ Sticky Fingers record experiment with a bold Tempranillo from California’s Central Valley. There is no shortage of wine bars on the Eastside, but one that encourages imbibers to select a glass based purely on musical preference? Now that’s a first. Inside the oh-so noir lair, crimson lighting, vintage photographs from the Golden Age of Radio, glass bottle chandeliers and boarded-up windows ooze Prohibition-era covertness.
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Except securing access doesn’t require a secret password flannel-and-jeans-clad locals breeze right on through a bouncer-less entry. On its jet-black facade is a spray-painted mural of a finger pressed to lips, implying that this is one of those on-the-down-low kind of places. The Whisperer skulks in the shadows of a Walgreens on Echo Park Avenue.