America's embargo on Cuba has deprived its citizens of a great many things, from fine cigars, to magnificent rums, to sweet, in-no-way-terrified-of-us raft toddlers. Babying you with another taste of Cuba in Alphabet City: El Cobre
The latest step in Ravi DeRossi's (of Death & Co) Cubanization of 6th and A, cocktail-centric El Cobre's nestling in next to its more food-centric siblings (Cienfuegos/Carteles) in a space reminiscent of its Cuban town namesake, with stadium seating on steps similar to those of local churches, a ceiling filled with oak-blade fans, plenty of copper trim, and a fountain of the Blessed Virgin of El Cobre, a puzzling condition considering how wet she is. Rum's the main attraction, with categories including Daiquiris (five of which originated at La Floridita in Havana, including Hemingway's fave No. 3 w/ grapefruit and maraschino), and Rocks, which ranges from the Pan-American Trilogy (Diplomatico anejo/apple brandy/cinnamon bark syrup/tiki bitters), to a mix of Scarlet Ibis rum, mezcal, sherry, chili, and cumin called the Hot or Not, though after a few you usually stop caring. There're also Stirred & Spirit Forward joints like an Appleton V/X Between the Sheets, and a swizzles/juleps section boasting a Beefeater-fueled Mai Tai, and the minty rum & Bols Genever-based Dutchie, which you should only pass if you're about to do the same, but out
Eventually you'll be able to enjoy the top-notch tippling in the great outdoors (aka, the sidewalk), and they're even working up a special pairing menu to go with bites from Cienfuegos like albondigas, croquettas, and ropa vieja "sloppy joes" -- share it with a certain now-teenage boy you've spirited back from Cuba, and the scene'll totally be Elian vs Predator.