It just opened this past winter and it already feels a hundred years old. That’s because the room, with its floor-to-ceiling sweep of mahogany and its center-stage portrait of the presidential OG, was constructed in the 1920s as a hotel library. In more recent years, though, the Bruce Wayne–ish lair has housed nothing more debonair than a paper shredder. Now spruced up (but not slicked down), the George Washington is serving some of the most delicious cocktails north of Fourteenth Street, thanks to head bartender Ben Rojo, whose stirring hand doesn’t falter even with the father of our country judging his performance all night.
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