Profile

It’s hard to find, and you’ll have to ring the buzzer, speakeasy-style to gain entrance to this tiny subterranean beer bar. But once inside, you’ll feel worlds away from MacDougal’s student-clogged sidewalks. The dimly-lit interior looks like a catacomb where Trappist monks brew some of the divinely delicious beers served here—unfinished walls are covered with prison-style chalk scratchings, while arty chandeliers inject a touch of modernity. More than 65 semi-pronounceable imported brews are available, from the faintly carbonated licorice hints in the Scottish Old Engine Oil to the sweet, frothy punch of the monk-made Maredsous. — Keach Hagey