If you’re familiar with the work (or at least the tacos/cocktails/secret fondue chambers) of Matt Abramcyk
or Serge Becker, then you already know what to expect here. Dim lights, short skirts, eclectic decor (think
wood paneling mixed with pink neon lights and a retro food counter) and a menu that receives the coveted
Friday night seal of approval.
Naturally, you’ll be coming here for those overlong weekend dinners. The ones that always start late,
typically include a group and usually involve a significant over-ordering of food. Gulf snapper ceviche.
Jewish pastrami tacos. A healthy combination of grill/sauce permutations from the parilla.
But if you’re planning on making the evening strictly about things like pepper-and-mango margaritas,
it’s probably best to bypass the striped-ceiling dining room and head straight for the downstairs lounge.
It was modeled after an old Mexico City jockey joint. Hence, the low-slung red banquettes, tiny leather
ottomans and majestic horse murals.
