Hidden above The Old Shoe in Orchard Square, behind a graffiti-marked fire exit and a phone number scrawled on the wall, Not Open; Don’t Come doesn’t exactly scream for attention. And that’s kind of the point.
When Mike Pomranz opened the speakeasy-style wine bar last summer, he knew he was taking a gamble. Sheffield isn’t short on great places to drink, but a loft-style wine bar built on irony, curiosity and conversation – accessed by calling ahead – was far from a sure thing.
“I definitely felt like I was taking a risk opening a speakeasy wine bar,” he says. “Either part of that would have been risky on its own.”
The concept leans into the theatre of secrecy, but only just. The door might be hard to find, but the intention isn’t exclusion – it’s intrigue. A playful nod to speakeasy culture that quickly dissolves once you’re inside.
“The whole idea was to be a bit of a joke on the speakeasy concept,” Pomranz explains. “Then once you’re in, it’s like you’re at a friend’s apartment.”
What people discover when they make the call is something unexpected. Instead of a cramped backroom, the space opens up into a wide, airy loft filled with mismatched seating, kitchen-style service and a steady hum of conversation.
“People always say it’s much larger than they expected,” Pomranz says. “It’s a big, open loft space, and especially on Saturdays when we’re rammed, there’s a really good energy. It feels like an impromptu loft party rather than a quiet wine bar.”
That atmosphere is central to what makes Not Open; Don’t Come work. For all its tongue-in-cheek presentation, the experience itself is disarmingly welcoming. There’s no pressure to know what you’re talking about, no expectation of expertise – just an open invitation to explore.
“You can taste everything if you want,” Pomranz says. “We try to give every single person the same experience and help them discover something new.”
That ethos extends to the bar’s ever-changing selection, with more than two dozen wines available by the glass at any one time, sourced from across Europe and beyond. It’s less about prestige and more about discovery – helping people move beyond the familiar and find something new.
“A lot of places push people towards the same familiar wines,” he says. “We want you to try things that challenge your perception of what wine can be.”
Even the most sceptical visitors tend to come around.
“People come in and order a beer, then get swept up in the excitement,” Pomranz says. “By the end of the night, they’re drinking wine. We just want to get people excited about it.”
It speaks to a broader shift in drinking culture. As habits change and nights out become less frequent but more intentional, experience has started to matter more than volume.
“I’ve been saying for years that people would rather pay more and get more value for the experience,” Pomranz explains. “If you’re going to be sipping something, you want it to be special. It becomes a point of conversation, not just intoxication.”
After a steady start built on word-of-mouth, curiosity and loyal regulars, the bar eventually hit its tipping point, helped along by a viral Instagram reel highlighting its speakeasy charm. From Exposed, no less – we’ll allow ourselves that one.
“It was night and day,” Pomranz says. “Our followers doubled overnight, and our sales doubled overnight. It was like, okay, that made a difference.”
But viral moments don’t sustain venues on their own. What’s kept Not Open; Don’t Come busy in the months since is something simpler: the feeling people get when they walk through the door.
“I genuinely think we’re probably the best wine bar in the city,” Pomranz says. “We serve the widest variety of wine and offer really personalised service. People come back for that.”
In a city built on independence, experimentation and word-of-mouth, it turns out you don’t need a sign outside to build something successful. Just a phone number, an open mind, and a space that makes people want to stay.
