Hatched by a former Nobu honcho who was inspired by a trip to London (during which he apparently ignored the constant rain and fog and imagined he was in the Hamptons), The Hoxton's the first of three new Brickell joints linked by sneaky back corridors. This one basically looks like a beach house the Clue people Summer in thanks to a slew of hidden bookshelf-packed nooks, rustic leather couches, and a buttload of framed portraits that definitely have safes packed with candlesticks and tiny plastic nooses behind them.
The eats are also appropriately beach-ish, including Blue Point oysters on the half, Nueske's bacon-topped mussels, Maine lobster rolls, and nearly all those things plus grilled corn & red potatoes in the New England clam bake. Don't like seafood? Well, you probably shouldn't have chosen to live in Florida, but you're still covered with Dagwood sandos (capicola, sopressata, turkey, provolone, lots of jokes about being married to a hot chick that nobody really gets) as well as a meatball grinder and Vermont cheddar/ confit gravy-coated duck poutine.
For drinks, you're looking at cocktails like the Honey Ryder (Bulleit, blackberries, lemon, mint), the vodka/ginger beer/basil syrup Hoxton Lemonade, and a rum Old Fashioned made with Brugal 1888 and a sugar cube before being finished with a flaming orange zest, enough of which will leave you without a Clue.