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.

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Scout the menu at LucysCantinaRoyale.com