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From the beaches of Ibiza to the highways and byways of the Bang Bus, men travel far afield to wallow in depravity. For a convenient locus of moral turpitude, try Elizabeth.
From two former Country chefs and a Los Dados mixologist, E's a rakishly noir drinker's den combining the luxury of a Monte Carlo casino with the villainy of a pirate's lair (for card sharrrghks?). Space-wise, E has you in three licentious zones: a black-banquetted, marble-bar'd salon decked with T2-esque gleaming skull lamps, a fireplace'd cardroom w/ vintage gaming posters and tessellated chandeliers, plus a 50-seat patio, the roof of which retracts so smoothly, it's like watching structural striptease. As for quaffing, E pours tweaked classic cocktails (the tequila/chili/cucumber Double Down, a pisco/shochu/pomegranate Pisco Sour, etc), plus four microbrews including the Colorado stout Out of Bounds and the Gauntlet-sounding Belgium ale Gulden Drak ("Dwarf needs beer. Dwarf is dying.") Being a restaurant, food is available, mainly in the form of small plates (poached hen egg, spring lamb, mushroom risotto, etc), the gnoshing of which bespeaks the ultimate depravity: contemporary American tapas.

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