I Don’t Just Want to Drink Here. I Want to Live Here.
The new Highland Underground bar and lounge opened yesterday. Here’s why, in spite of a very limited food menu, it’s my kind of place.
Preview of The Highland Underground
3612 6th Ave Suite 100
I think most people believe that the decade in which they grew up was the best. But unless you came of age in the 1970s, you’re wrong. The music alone should convince you—we’re still listening to it, and what always strikes me is how every single band or artist sounded like no one else. Fleetwood Mac didn’t sound like Led Zeppelin, didn’t sound like The Rolling Stones, didn’t sound like Wings, didn’t sound like George or John, didn’t sound like Stevie Wonder, didn’t sound like Heart, didn’t sound like—you get the idea. In high school, some mean girls dressed in monogrammed sweaters might have occasionally made fun of something I wore, but those girls were pretty easy to ignore when you could turn the corner and see an entire hallway of girls dressed like Neil Young in flannel shirts and blue jeans. Many of us were looking ahead to state schools with little concern as to how we’d pay for it (tuition was $415 a semester). And best of all, we were raised by a generation that included fathers who’d served in World War II or Korea and who were pretty lax about what we did, having seen a lot worse in their lives.
I know, of course, that not everyone got to grow up with that kind of ease, but for those of us who did, we were truly free-range kids in a wide-open, low-stakes world.
So is it any wonder I love the 70s-themed Highland Underground Bar? Honestly, they could probably serve plonk, and I’d happily groove to it.


Located in the basement of what was once Klein’s Department Store in Highland Park, this cocktail bar channels the era with orange and silver-metallic wallpaper, groovy table lamps, vinyl booths, and all kinds of well-curated mid-century details. Sure, there’s a little kitsch—you’ll find displays and mannequins sporting 70s clothes (for sale, if you wish) and busts with 70s wigs that add a trippy fun-house appeal. So, while it’s not exactly like a bar I’d have visited in the late 70s (when I was 17 and the drinking age was 18 and anyone who looked 16 could almost always get into a bar because … no one cared), it’s a fun, cheeky nod to those years.

Constructed in 1907, the building itself originally housed grocery and dry goods stores and later a hardware store. In 1936, Polish immigrant Bernard Klein and a partner launched a business that would later become Klein’s Department Store. It would remain a cornerstone in Highland Park until 1983, when they moved to the Park Fair Mall. The store closed permanently a year later.
The Highland Underground comes from The Orvis Horatio Group, the team behind Dough Pizza Co. and the Des Moines Biergarten. Partners include brothers Alec and Evan Davis as well as Austin Baeth, and when they discovered they all shared a distant ancestor, a north-side entrepreneur named Orvis Horatio, they borrowed his name for their ventures. A third partner—though not a blood relative, is Sam Hoyle.
My Early Peek
I ventured in last Saturday night as they were getting ready for a soft opening. I wanted to snap a few photos before the evening’s rush and get a chance to speak with some of the principals.
Most notable—besides the groovy ambiance: The cocktails are by no means true to the 1970s, and I’m glad of it! Back then, we drank awful sloe gin fizzes, brass monkeys (vodka, rum, orange juice), screwdrivers, stingers (Cognac—or, more likely cheap brandy—and crème de menthe). We drank rum-and-Cokes, but felt infinitely more cool when we called them Cuba Libres (which in Des Moines meant it came with a lime wedge). Basically, we drank anything that was mixed with something sweet enough to get the liquor down. And the mixers were always juices made from concentrates or something sweet and fizzy squirted from a bar gun.
The lounge’s general manager is Jake Humburg, who worked for Table 128 as well as the erstwhile 503 Cocktail Lab and Tasting Room. In 2022, he was named Iowa’s top mixologist in the Iowa Restaurant Association’s annual Mixology Championships. He credited co-owner Jamie Yowler with most of the cocktail concepts, but said he was helping to keep them all doable at high volume.
“While the 70s were known for using a lot of fruit juices in cocktails, most were inferior ‘jug juices,’” he said. “We’re aiming for a much fresher take.”
Yowler told me that syrups and bitters will be made in house, and juices will be processed using a “super juicing” method, which uses both the peels and the pulp. This method helps keeps the juice consistent and the prices affordable while offering the freshest flavor.
You’ll spot plenty of winks to the juice-heavy cocktails of yesteryear, but they’ve all been smartly updated for today’s tastes. The Oaxaca at Dawn riffs on the Tequila Sunrise—Aperol and hibiscus syrup stand in for that cloying grenadine, with lime juice keeping it bright. The Stinger hides a secret they don’t share.
I went for the Velvet Mannequin, a tart, hibiscus-laced mocktail spin on the Piña Colada that trades obvious sweetness for a citrusy snap. Dave chose the Fragrance Department, a floral French 75 twist with gin, honey, lemon, cava, and hibiscus.
So, what’s to eat? They only serve fondue, that staple of the 1970s, available in both cheese and chocolate. I didn’t get a chance to sample it myself, but partner Evan Davis told me he’d gone to great lengths to procure vintage fondue pots for the specialty. He also mentioned they weren’t exactly going for the artisanal-style fondue you’d find at The Cheese Bar. I took that to mean their fondue will be more akin to a 70s style of fondue, back when we basically had two kinds of cheese—yellow and white.
[Update: Partner Sam Hoyle mentioned that the cheese used are actually Swiss, Fontina, and Gruyère. Sounds not quite Cheese Bar caliber, but hopefully a cut above the 70s.]
Overall this place offers the a sense of the ’70s, remixed with the skill and polish of today’s cocktail scene.
What’s Ahead.
Recently too many meals have been in that gray zone—not great, not outright awful, just … fine. And “fine” is not worth writing (or reading) about. I’ll tell you more about where I’m at in all of this in an upcoming post. Meanwhile, I’m heading out again this weekend and hoping for something worth the ink. Stay tuned—and subscribe so you don’t miss it.




I am going to skip this place as I remember it growing up. We lived down the street, about 3 blocks away. Dad had his medical office which is soon to be a bar for people who want to get drunk. Mr. and Mrs. Klein, is where Mom bought my shoes, Mrs. Klein sold fabric and sewing things in the basement. Mr. Klein would take me down the back stairs to select comic books he had purchased to give kids like me. It was a nice , place. Next door was The Bean Bowl where my brother, Dan, hung out after school and then there was Chucks on the other side.
Much like Thomas Wolfe wrote "You can't go home again." is how I feel about going there. It isn't the same, the Kleins with their warmth and desire to help isn't happening. And I see my father's medical office at 515 Euclid, where he saved lives , I would go at nights and weekends for a quiet place to study is also a bar, not healing the body but pouring in stuff that will mess someone up. It is nice to see the buildings repurposed, but alas not an eatery such as the Highland Park Country Club over in the post office building, or the HiHo with Mr. Donavan's homemade pies for dessert, after a chocolate malt, french fries and an egg salad sandwich with mom sitting across from me asking about how things were going.
Tom Wolfe was right, the places are memories of a better time than the present, not a place to get healed or clothed, but as they are today. I wonder if in 10, 20 or even 30 years, the same feeling of memory of the new places will feel the same
Always glad to hear about creative and complex mocktails! (That might be a post for when you're in a bit of a rut with finding places to rave about — especially with a focus on the widest variety and/or best prices.)