Yacht Club

Yacht Club plays it as a dive, and the bones back that up: mismatched stools, string lights left up all year, a jukebox-bar feel that doesn't announce itself from the street. You find the door by looking for a black flag with a skull on it and ducking through a curtain. Once inside, a Jack and Coke sits on the menu next to a hot dog, and High Life runs cheap all night.

That's the bit. The actual program underneath is serious enough to have been called the best cocktail bar in the country. Fennel vinegar shows up in the drinks. The wine list is natural and chosen by people who clearly care. The trick is that none of it reads as precious — the same room holds cocktail obsessives, wine geeks, and beer regulars without anyone feeling like they wandered into the wrong bar.

Back-to-back James Beard finalist and semifinalist nods for cocktail service confirm what the drinks already tell you. Yacht Club earns its reputation by refusing to look like it's chasing one. Go for the theater of the low-key setup, stay for cocktails built with real technique, and don't expect anyone behind the bar to make a show of either.