Hidden bar in the basement?

The fact that this supposed florist is open past midnight is a dead giveaway that this is a front for something. 

We walk up to the shop, and a few (hipster-esque) guys sit inside the brightly lit flower shop, Floreria atlantico, chatting away presumably about something other than flowers. As we walked past the bouquets on displa, one of the guys opened a non-descript industrial-sized freezer door, which leads into the basement.

bar area at floreria atlantico

Suddenly we are in a dimly lit bar in the shape of a long hallway- bar on one side, and tables on the other. As per usual in buenos aires, the restaurant/bar was hopping well into 2am when we had to cash out. On a Sunday night no less. 

The beverage menu had an around the world theme, with interesting crafted cocktails. Not super alcoholic, which seems consistent with other bars we have visited in argentina. We didn’t get to try the food because we had already overeaten at dinner.. Lots of people were having food though. 

It’s hard to tell if these are really for sale.

I’d totally come here again for the cool vibes and check out more of their drinks. Or buy flowers.

Sort of important info not on their website:

  1. Don’t be lame and go there too early. 10pm for dinner or better yet closer to midnight for drinks 
  2. Dress: just regular urban-evening wear. 
  3. Drinks are in the 70-100 peso range. That’s between $6-8 us. For crafted cocktails that’s not bad. They also have wine and beer. 
  4. There’s no password or anything to get in. I would assume anyone young ish and/or appropriately dressed gets in? Dude didn’t even ask us where we wanted to go, he just opened the freezer door. 

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An avid traveler and amateur mom. Loves naps, food, new experiences.

One thought on “Hidden bar in the basement?

  1. When my husband and I were first married, once a week we’d go out to dinner at The Fireside Lounge. It was also a basement bar. We’d sit at the bar and watch reruns of Star Trek. Greg usually ordered a hamburger, and I ordered the peel-’em’-yourself jumbo shrimp cocktail. We chose the house dressing for our salads, which was poured out of a gallon milk jug. We begged the bartender to tell us what was in it, but he insisted it was a secret family recipe. Alas, a few years later, the Fireside burned up in a fire, but it remains a fond memory.


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