WE LOVE TO HATE ...


Greenhouse
Eco-friendly? Maybe. Ego-friendly? Definitely. After all it, takes a certain type of place to (presumably) pay for the privilege of becoming Snooki's latest punching gallery. That type of place is typically found in places like Montclair, NJ and Nassau County...and doesn't typically have to deal with multiple discrimination lawsuits.

Ace Hotel Bar
We checked out the NYC version of this Portland-based boutique last summer, to be greeted with a library-quiet vibe, taxidermy, $5 cans of Pork Slap (a “beer” that makes PBR taste like Chimay) and a scattering of well-heeled hipsters checking their e-mail. Now, thanks to what can only be a PR blitz worthy of a Gulf War, it has become a scene. Congratulations, interlopers: You’re the Vampire Weekend of bars.

The Eldridge
Hiding behind a quaint facade of a quaint facade, this place gave the L.E.S. its first taste of Meatpacking-level exclusivity and $30 drinks. So, at least it's groundbreakingly douchey. Still, there went the neighborhood.



Su Casa
Well, this "secret" Qdoba attic was certainly on their best behavior that one time we went. The margarita was fresh and tasty and the Mexican wrestling looped on the bar TV added campy flair. Then, seemingly overnight, the place ditched the shtick, threw up the rope, and watched both the cocktails and the frat-dudes slamming them make a solid turn towards the tasteless. The result: a shit-casa.
 
WE HATE TO LOVE ...
   
Evolution
Most of you watch Cocktail for the Cruise...okay, most of you don't watch Cocktail at all. Well, now you don't have to, as Evolution has all your repressed desire for live action "flair bartending" covered. If $14 sounds like a lot for a drink, remember half the ingredients were in midair mere seconds ago. If the place sounds cheesey, that's because it is. Next you're going to say you don’t like clowns, either.

The Boom Boom Room
Yes, the Studio 54 comparisons were way overblown. Yes, it’s absurd how nightlife blogs would go into overdrive every time the place rearranged the ottomans or threatened to change the name. Sure it's pretty, but it's a freakin’ hotel bar.  And, no, we don't care where Madonna parties.  At least that's what we tell ourselves...


Superdive
Dive our ass. This bro-magnet packs 'em in with things like (gack) keg service and champagne served by a little person-pirate. The resulting "dive" brings an out-of-place—but almost surreal—taste of Murray Hill jock-ularity to the East Village. At least there are bars we actually like in the neighborhood once the novelty wears off.

Red Velvet
The fact that the name happens to refer to the color and the fabric of the rope outside is, at best, a partial coincidence. But inside, it's a cream-filled center of sweets, libations and lux interior, a (French) revolutionary combo that would normally have no rightful place on the L.E.S. Basically, it's the Eldridge with cupcakes...and we love cupcakes.