Perched above The Benjamin on Melrose, Bar Benjamin has quickly become Hollywood’s most whispered-about escape. You enter through an unmarked stairwell, push open a heavy door, and step into a world of velvet banquettes, candlelight, and cocktails as complex as poetry.
The space is deliberately small, encouraging intimacy. Drinks borrow from French technique and L.A. flair: a lavender martini with edible flowers, mezcal old-fashioneds that taste like campfire nostalgia.
What sets Bar Benjamin apart isn’t just its drinks it’s its sense of privacy. In a city where clubs fight for attention, Benjamin thrives on discretion. To be seen here is not about flash, but about knowing.
