The New York Times ran an article this week describing how old school speakeasys are having a resurgence, with no other purpose other than nostalgia.

On a nondescript block in Williamsburg, not far from the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, a new bar and restaurant called Rye opened last week.

Try to find it.

There's no sign out front. The facade, an artfully casual assemblage of old wooden slats, gives the place a boarded-up, abandoned look. It does have a street number, painted discreetly on a glass panel above the front doors, but that's it. Like a suspect in a lineup, it seems to shrink back when observed.