Lucy's Cantina Royale

Whatever you're offering, it's always wise to go where people are starved for it, which explains the instant popularity of multiplexes in barren suburbs, and democracy in Iraq! Bringing post-work/pre-game hanging to MSG-land, Lucy's Cantina Royale.

Going all-out West Coast surf hut thanks to a bright orange bar, glistening aqua-marine communal tables, bulbous light fixtures wrapped in rope netting, dangling surf boards tethered with bamboo, and a heated back patio w/ tropical trees, LCR's fixing up those stranded on the desolate beach around Penn Station with Baja-style vittles & booze imagined by a former executive chef at Tao who wanted less De Niro and more dinero. Inspired by "indigenous and fresh" ingredients, standard fare includes quesadillas/tacos/burritos stuffed with chipotle skirt steak, lime-cilantro pulled chicken, and pineapple-scallion pork, while tweaked pub grub includes sliders w/ chipotle ketchup & chorizo sour cream, wings marinated 24 hrs in mango/adobo/honey sauce, and pastry-wrapped chorizos called "Chihuahuas in a Poncho", though you'll only want to punt these down your throat. For Knicks-game numbage, there're a range of flavored margs and mojitos; a 100-strong tequila list from Don Julio to Espolon; and pitcher-sized offerings like an Arnold Palmer-esque blend of Nestea/fresh lemonade mixed/Grey Goose, the VeeV/guava/coconut/orange Guava Tropical, and the Leblon/chipotle/lime/passion fruit Cactus Rose, sure to turn you in to a total prick.

Come spring they'll debut a massive roof deck complete with French Polynesian palm trees, buoy lights, tiki huts, and hammocks, providing 8th Avenuians with that which they are most starved for -- the illusion of being somewhere else.