The bar at the Havana is perfect for scheming your life away, but the plush booths along the wide expanse of dance floor are nothing to sneeze at either. (Though frequently you have to put up with the Stranger's editorial staff camped in them; they're fans.) Quentin Ertel (formerly of the Viceroy) knows his ambiance. In the heart of the scrappy Pike/Pine corridor, he's created a bar that makes you feel like one sophisticated martini the moment you step inside.
Continue reading "The Boozehound Diaries: Havana Daydreamin'"

Tuesdays are Muppet Days