The Hotel Deco
Check it out here! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOfRVJkj36Q
If you are looking for a getaway destination that is completely unexpected, check out the Hotel Deco in Omaha. Located downtown, it boasts an atmosphere that is truly unique.
From the moment you arrive, this Art Deco-styled hotel makes a statement. The first person you are greeted by is the valet, which on some occasions, could be excessive. But given the rarity of public parking, they quickly become your new best friend. If your itinerary calls for you to remain in town, it may be more convenient to walk or utilize public transportation. If not, be sure to allow an extra twenty-minutes or so for the valet to retrieve your car.
The lobby and public areas are just as opulent. The architectural details, glass and woodwork are truly exceptional. It is clearly a source of pride for the friendly folks that work there-especially the front desk staff. If they have time, they are happy to tell you all about it.
The overall vibe is Alice in Wonderland meets the Radisson, and this becomes more apparent the more you look around. There are little references paid in the art and décor. Even the Do Not Disturb tags have whimsy references to the classic. These surprising touches make staying at the hotel even more fun.
The room was adequate in size. The amenities and features well organized and well placed. I was pleased with how quiet and private the floor was. It spoke to the efforts the front desk staff took in placing guests.
Just past the front desk are the elevators that take you up to your room, but off to your right is a small flight of steps leading to the hotel’s restaurant. The space is quiet and cozy and menu is what you might expect from a hotel eatery-as are the prices. The fare is alright, but given the variety of eateries within walking distance, guests can get more for their buck elsewhere.
And I cannot encourage you enough to get out and explore! When we checked in, the front desk staff suggested my husband and I check out the speakeasy located next door. We are always up for a good cocktail, and so we dropped off our bags and set out to find it. But what we found next door was a little vice shop about the size of a closet selling cigarettes and run-of-the-mill spirits.
It did boast a line of people standing outside it’s doors, but given its location across from the Orpheum Theater and the fact that Ron White was performing that night, we dismissed it and moved on. Instead, we found a little club located around the corner which benefitted the local children’s theater. It didn’t exactly seem like a speakeasy, but not all billed that way are. So we shrugged it off and enjoyed some libations inspired by SpongeBob SquarePants.
The mystery weighed on our minds though, and later that night we took to the internet to investigate further. Among the comments for the hotel were suggestions to visit the Wicked Rabbit-the name of the little hole in the wall we passed. We took a chance to test the theory the following night.
We arrived followed by two older women who had clearly pre-gamed before their arrival. They were stumbling around and tittering like a pair of teenagers looking to buy White Claw with their first fake ID. Not wasting time, we asked the clerk if they carried the Wicked Rabbit. She nodded and asked to see our ID’s.
Overhearing the exchange, one of the women tripped over her friend to declare they wanted entry to the speakeasy too. After presenting their licenses, the clerk pushed a button concealed on a display case revealing the entrance.
For all my nose-turning the night before, the Wicked Rabbit deserved none of it. The bar was exquisite, decorated in lush purple upholstery and gilded frames and tiles. The drink menus come in books and consist solely of classic cocktails. Once the bartender pointed out that all the drinks on the first page were the ones set on fire, I was hooked. I picked out a punch and watched her prepare it in awe.
When finished, she floated a spirit-soaked sugar cube on top of the thinnest slice of orange imaginable before instructing me how to drink it. The trick, she said, was to count to ten before plunging the sugar cube inside. That way, the sugar had time to caramelize, the alcohol could better dissolve, and the intended outcome would pay off. As she lit the sugar cube with a torch, I followed her directions to the letter.
I can tell you, she knew what she was talking about.
Our two accompanying drunkies looked on before ordering the same. After being given the same instruction, they immediately dunked their cubes and slung back the contents. The bartender rolled her eyes and said nothing. I have never seen an artist so disappointed.
My takeaway: book a stay-and partake in the Wicked Rabbit sober.
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