Arts & Entertainment

Sidebar is packed with contradictions. One of its owners used to work at Opium Group, the bottle-service-king of South Beach that manages clubs like Mansion and SET. Another used to be the manager at Bar, a dearly departed downtown hipster hole in the wall. Their former employers, in other words, represented diametrically different dimensions of Dade nightlife. At Sidebar, the cavernous inside — with black walls, a stage, and a large dance floor — is the perfect place to be drowned in sound and to dance the night away. The ample outdoor area, in contrast, provides a place to catch a break and some conversation. On Wednesday, Sidebar features live jazz, Fridays is for hip-hop, and Saturdays are open format. It’s ladies’ night on Thursday, when there are the standard free drinks at the beginning of the night for women — but also free ice cream for all. Sidebar can’t even be easily geographically categorized. It sits at the juncture of Brickell and Little Havana. And yet all these elements come together perfectly. Sidebar isn’t trying too hard to be one thing, but it’s not trying too hard to please everyone either. It’s just great.

Readers’ choice: Ball & Chain

Coyo Taco is a bright, fast-casual taco joint in Wynwood — with a dark secret. To find it, walk past the bathrooms and down the hall. There, you’ll find a small, square room, softly lit by novena candles. A DJ plays a mix of soft house music, and people lounge on comfortable sofas. You’ve found Coyo Taco’s hush-hush bar. The small space is home to 50 tequilas and mezcals, all of which can be mixed into the bar’s inventive cocktails created by Coyo partner Anna Robbins. There’s a banana margarita, called the Anna Bannana (the extra “N” refers to Robbins’ childhood nickname), made with a rare Brazilian banana liqueur, and rimmed with sal de gusano, a Mexican salt made with ground gusano worms (the same ones getting drunk at the bottom of your Mezcal bottle). For health nuts falling off the wagon, there’s a chia margarita. But with 100-degree heat fast approaching, go for the bar’s Paleta­Ritas ($14). A locally made paleta is cut in half. One part is used in the margarita; the other half serves as both garnish and refreshingly icy swizzle stick. In flavors like cocopassion and chili cucumber, these PaletaRitas are the most refreshing and boozy treat in Miami. The fact that they’re served in a secret bar filled with lit effigies of saints pushes the coolness factor off the charts.

You say you want your cheap drinks with a side of ribs? Come on down to Billy’s Pub Too, friend. An average bar might have a two-hour window of discounts known as “Happy Hour,” but Billy’s has its time frame stretched to a full workday. That’s correct; it runs an eight-hour Happy Hour from 4 p.m. until midnight with drink specials. It also ups the ante on Thursdays, when you can get 99-cent beer with a valid college ID. If you are looking for more than cheap booze, Billy’s boasts four pool tables, a back patio with a tiki bar, and foosball to keep you busy. And don’t forget those ribs. Mr. Cobb’s kitchen menu has wings, burgers, and Southern sides, but it’s the ribs that are completely memorable, sticking Billy’s firmly in your mind, teeth, and fingers. You can get a full meal of a quarter rack of ribs and fries for just $8.75. South Beach can keep its $18 cocktails — you’ll have a better time up north, where the meat falls off the bone and the drink specials never expire.

Readers’ choice: Duffy’s Sports Grill

Ball & Chain likes to tout its history — for good reason. The joint opened in 1935, after all, near the tail end of the Great Depression. For two decades, it reigned as one of Miami’s most celebrated nightclubs, where greats like Billie Holiday and Chet Baker belted it out nightly. However, it closed in 1957 just as the Cuban immigrants who gave Little Havana its name began arriving in big numbers. It wasn’t until last fall that partners Bill Fuller, Zack Bush, and Ben Bush decided to the revive the lounge. Except for the exposed ceiling and rafters, almost everything that was original to Ball & Chain was long gone. From that starting point, the owners painstakingly re-created the 1935 bar. The result isn’t just a stunning reconnection to the city’s past — it’s a happening nightlife spot that’s reintroducing the city at large to a neighborhood most people frequent only for the ethnic eats and cigars. Do yourself a favor and grab a spot at the bar to enjoy a mojito ($12) — one of the most authentic versions you’ll find in Dade — or a Calle Ocho old-fashioned ($12) that uses tobacco bitters and actual tobacco leaves. Hungry? The Cuban spring roll ($8) takes the Cuban sandwich and wraps it inside a paper-thin dough. And though it’s too late to see Holiday perform in person, Ball & Chain keeps the musical spirit alive with DJs, live bands, and singers all week.

Readers’ choice: Ball & Chain

This strip-mall space in Hialeah used to be called Our Place — until that dive bar got busted by the feds May 2, 2014, for drug dealing and illegal gambling. Now under new ownership, the bar has gone legit. Architect Landy Lamas and builder Mo Lacayo have given these formerly sleazy digs a major face-lift, a fresh booze list, and a new name, opening as the Bend Liquor Lounge in February 2015. “This was our local watering hole, our favorite dive, until it started going downhill,” Lamas told New Times just after the fixed-up boozing spot began slinging drinks. “The bar was opened in the ’70s but had been muddled up by shabby remodels. After stripping it down to its bones, we could appreciate its original spirit and decided to build on it. The ’70s was a key time for the development of the area, and we thought of nothing more fitting for a quote-unquote local bar.” As for the brand of intoxicants being peddled at the Bend, there’s $2.50 beer (Miller High Life, Rolling Rock, Coors Banquet, Pabst Blue Ribbon), $6 local pints (Biscayne Bay Brewing, Wynwood Brewing, M.I.A. Brewing), and $8 classic cocktails too. But no more cocaine, weed, or molly. Sorry, old-timers.

Readers’ choice: Finka Table & Tap

We ended up writing an entire 340-page book about how much we love Scully’s, but we didn’t have enough room to print it all. So we can show you only the table of contents.

Chapter 1: Cheap Drinks

Chapter 2: “This Food Is Really Good”: An Ode to Scully’s Culinary Side.

Chapter 3: Gridiron Glory: An Interview Series With 32 Football Fans on Why Scully’s Is Their Favorite Place to Watch a Game

Chapter 4: “I Really Love These Green Walls”: An Analysis of the Charming Interior Decor of the Restaurant

Chapter 5: That Time Guy Fieri Featured It on Diners, Drive-ins and Dives.

Chapter 6: Pool Rules: A Photographic Essay of the Men and Women Who Shoot Pool at Scully’s

Chapter 7: No, This Food Is Really Good

Chapter 8: A Comprehensive List of Every Live Band That Has Played Here

Chapter 9: No Lines, No List, No Cover, No Attitude

Chapter 10: Karaoke Dreams: Wednesday Nights at Scully’s

Chapter 11: We Decided Its Chicken Wings Needed a Full Chapter

Readers’ choice: Bougainvillea’s Old Florida Tavern

Farm-to-table dining has all but become a cliché in Miami, but how about farm-to-glass drinking? At Repour, Isaac Grillo’s intimate space tucked away inside the Albion Hotel, the idea is becoming a reality. The bar, furnished out of repurposed wood from Colorado, is a welcome and rustic respite from the über-commercial Lincoln Road just outside the door. But what sets this place apart is the cocktails. The bartender turned bar owner makes drinks that are both whimsical and deceptively simple. Drinks, which are generally around $12, are handcrafted with care and use surprising ingredients like fresh herbs grown from onsite gardens, teas, and Pop Rocks (for a lip-cracking version of a sugared rim). Special attention is also given to the way your drink is chilled. Grillo uses cold Colorado River rocks in some drinks; others are made with coconut-water ice spheres. Although the cocktail menu changes monthly, there’s always a freshly made cocktail or two from the garden, as well as a few porch pounders — all written right on the wall. There’s one constant, however. Grillo’s cocktails all contain a surprising twist — a sprig of sage in a fruity drink or a hit of black pepper in honey — because a city as exciting as Miami Beach needs cocktails that can keep us on our toes.

Readers’ choice: The Broken Shaker

The tank is almost empty. And there are only a few miles left till you hit that long, winding southbound stretch of one-lane Overseas Highway with no gas, food, or beverages. It’s a treacherous route along which the reckless road tripper could easily get stranded, go hungry, or even die of thirst while surrounded by a trillion gallons of salty sea. So you yank the wheel, pulling a U-turn into the RaceTrac truck-stop parking lot with plans for some unleaded, beef jerky, and ten liters of grape Gatorade. But that’s when you spot Sam’s Hideaway, with its placards that read, “Cocktails,” “Cold Beer,” and “The Oldest Southernmost Tavern on the Mainland USA.” Forget dehydrated meat and purple drink. This bar’s got cold $2.50 Budweiser and free hot dogs on Sundays. However, the strongest sign that Sam’s just might be paradise: a painting above the doorway depicting a fanciful Florida landscape in which two dolphins can be seen leaping out of cresting waves and over a frosty, overflowing mug. So why risk crossing causeways and island chains? Perhaps this dive was always meant to be your final destination.

Rather than try to describe the magic of Monty’s Sunset, let’s review a random selection of recent captions from Instagram tagged at the SoBe mainstay:

“It’s always a party!!”

“Doing #Business in #Miami looks like #Vacation… @ #Montys in #SoFe on #SouthBeach where else is there a #Pool in the middle of a #Restaurant w/ a #View of #Yachts on the #Intercoastal #Water”

“#DanMarino” [This person ran into Dan Marino at Monty’s and took a selfie with him.]

“Why do I find it so hard to be serious? Cuz that would be no #fun #lol #Montys #miamibeach #happyhour #Mattsbday #SavvySingleGirl

“Tuna tar tar on this fine Tuesday #thenaughtyfork #PHAAT”

“This is exactly what I need after an action packed week in Miami!”

“Chilling with a #manatee. #miami #lovemylife” [There was a manatee by the marina in this pic.]

“Great view, live music, and good food and drinks. Monty’s Miami Beach.”

“#Painreliever” [Seriously, though, do get a signature Pain Remover drink, which range from $10 to $12 depending on how much pain you need to remove.]

“Delicia de noite em otima companhia.”

“#Blessed”

Of course, the captions are even better when attached to the breathtaking sunset views, but these will have to do.

Sports bar in a strip mall. We’d usually sneer. But we swear Pubgrill doesn’t suck. In fact, this Cutler Bay spot’s game-time eats are awesome, whether it’s brunch stuff like bourbon-and-brown-sugar-glazed ham with eggs or dinner grub like jalapeño-bacon maple syrup chicken ‘n’ waffles with a side of truffle mac ‘n’ cheese. There are also upgraded bar-food staples, from $10 baskets of wings in seven signature flavors to $9 beef burgers topped with Gouda, bacon, and rosé sauce to $17 racks of slow-roasted, sauce-slathered ribs. And, dude, the booze menu isn’t any less badass, boasting tons of solid $7 to $9 craft beers on draft, even from Florida’s Cigar City and Miami’s own Wynwood, M.I.A., Concrete Beach, and J. Wakefield breweries. As for Pubgrill’s walls, they’re loaded with flat-screens, which means you can easily watch three games without ever having to take a time-out from stuffing that gut and swilling fancy pints.

Readers’ choice: Flanigan’s Seafood Bar & Grill

A curious child asks, “Mommy, where do dive bars come from?” In Miami at least, Happy’s Stork Lounge is the correct answer. This glorious dive on the JFK Causeway breathes a special life into the neighborhood and acts as a courier for grimy, boozy goodness. Here you have two options: To the left is the liquor store, and to the right is the bar. This stork has been making dive-bomb deliveries for more than 50 years, and the bar has the scars to prove it. There is the pool table that has turned more gray than green, humorous signs that give you material for days, sections of the bar that have never been dusted, and the painting of a woman on the back wall has a bullet hole piercing her face (right in the Marilyn Monroe birthmark region). Legend goes it came from an off-duty policeman who was mad about losing a card game. This bar is filled with people and bartenders who have some good stories to tell. The original owner of the joint went by “Happy,” and each drink you down keeps the memory and sentiment alive and well.

Drag fans know that the performances are largely a nocturnal art form. Most queens around America save their charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent for the cover of darkness — you gotta wait for the pitchfork-wielders to turn in, after all. Miami Beach is so bursting with rainbow pride, however, that lucky locals get treated to the rare sight of daytime drag every weekend at legendary hangout the Palace. Delighting beach revelers and tourists alike for more than 25 years, the Palace is the only gay restaurant and bar in Miami where you can watch queens turn it out while you get trashed and munch toast. While the Palace’s popular nighttime shows are usually more fierce, the weekly Sunday Brunch is a beloved frontrunner for the most fun show in town. With two seatings, at 11:30 a.m. and 2 p.m., at $39.99, each Sunday brings bottomless mimosas and nonstop drag shows while you down breakfast grub like chocolate-chip pancakes and chicken and waffles. The talented ladies traipse through the tables with traffic-stopping performances that spill onto Ocean Drive, where shocked looks from South Beach tourists only add to the entertainment. The friendly interaction between the queens and the crowds — plus the prime people-watching location — makes this a great place to take out-of-towners. Maybe underground drag nights are more your thing, but these queens will impress with fun sidewalk-grinding lip-syncs full of hits from Rihanna, Gloria Estefan, Whitney Houston, and more. This is the former stomping ground of RuPaul’s Drag Race star Latrice Royale, after all, and respect and tribute are owed. So bring your appetite and plenty of dollar bills — these ladies ain’t dancing in the South Florida heat for nothin’.

The search for good gay nightlife options outside South Beach has sometimes resembled an Indiana Jones-esque quest. So thank God for Gramps for cracking that conundrum once and for all by bringing us Double Stubble. It’s a welcome new hipster piece to gay Miami’s party puzzle. The last Sunday afternoon of every month, there’s no need to keep your sexuality subtle. The disco beats of DJ Hottpants will surely make everyone shuffle or do the hustle. Whether you like muscle or a little extra stubble, you may even find someone to snuggle, cuddle, or get into some other sort of trouble. So get all your friends in a huddle, hop in a shuttle, and come out, because missing this tea dance is certainly a social fumble.

“What are we doing tonight?” Roy asks his roommate, Danny.

“I was thinking maybe we could go out to a place with a dark dance floor. Find ourselves some men,” replies Danny.

“No thanks; I’ve had my fill of Tribal House remixes of Beyoncé tracks for the month.”

“That place with the naughty backroom?”

“You’ve got Grindr for that.”

“We could head up to one of those go-go-boy bars in Broward?”

“Ugh, I wish there were a gay bar that was just like an actual bar. One that actually served craft cocktails instead of having shirtless bartenders shoot out vodka crans like it was an assembly line. A place that’s not too dark, well decorated, with decent music. A place where you can actually talk with a good mix of locals and tourists. Dudes of all types and ages. Maybe they did things like weekly trivia nights. No lines out front or VIP rooms. You know, like those charming little neighborhood bars straight people have so many of.”

“Oh, you mean the Bar at Hotel Gaythering. It’s at that new gay hotel in South Beach. It’s Thursday, right? I think they’ve got ’90s music night and $3 local craft beers.”

“Gaythering? Well, that’s certainly a name.”

“Eh, well having a slightly silly name is just about the only thing this place has in common with the rest of the gay bars in town.”

Readers’ choice: Twist

The weekly party has all but gone the way of the dinosaur in South Florida, killed not by a massive comet rocketing to Earth but by some combination of bottle service, a tourist-driven market, and a serious lack of people willing to take the risk of getting a regularly scheduled gathering on the calendar. Basement Miami at the new Miami Beach Edition, on the other hand, seems completely at ease taking big risks, even if that means introducing a downtown-esque nightclub to the middle of Miami Beach. On Fridays, a smattering of DJs, both local and visiting, get on the decks in the Discobox space to pump out dance-friendly tunes that range from nü-disco to hip-hop and house. The best part is that the sets usually don’t pander to EDM and Top 40-loving crowds. The music feels familiar and accessible, but it’s always a step above the megaclubs’ usual dreck. The space itself is also a marvel — it seems pitch black except for the amazing lighting schematic that pops out of the most unexpected places. The crowd is as varied as the dance tracks, including downtown and Beach locals and plenty of tourists. Cover is usually $20, but if you go often enough or know people who know people, that fee is usually waived — so don’t be a sucker. After all, a good party doesn’t come cheap — well drinks alone usually run about $15 at Basement Miami. Think about prepartying elsewhere, and show up when you’re good and ready to dance.

The best parties are always house parties, so it’s only natural that House Nightclub tries to re-create that experience every night. Once you possess a “house key,” you are free to explore the venue, located on the edge of where Wynwood meets Overtown. You enter through the high-tech foyer/living room, where silver bubbles in the air seem to provide the only (legal) high you’ll ever need. If you arrive early, you’ll be confined to this area until the rest of the “house” opens for debauchery. However, if you’re looking for the VIP experience, you’re going to want to request a table in the backroom area, where you’ll find the “bedroom” and “bath.” That area gives you a clear view of the dance floor and stage so you can scope out any potential hotties you might want to invite back to your table. And no, House isn’t a gay venue, it’s just very gay-friendly — meaning if you want the company of guys or girls, that can easily be arranged here, no questions asked. There is a minimum in the VIP area, so expect to pay around $5,000 for the privilege of looking down at the common folk.

Tap 79 is one of the least assuming joints in Miami. The beer hall is decorated in old typewriters, wine crates, and Jenga games and looks like it was funded with loose couch change. Pay that no mind, though, because the beer is cold and the food is delicious. It’s owned by the people who brought the more chic Bin 18 to Edgewater, and the menu is a mashup of elegant bites with take-no-prisoners pub grub. A baked Brie in a crock, served with garlic-infused honey ($12), shares face time with Scooby snacks ($8), a plate of ginger-marinated salmon bites and house cured beef jerky ($6). An ahi tuna sandwich on toasted country bread ($12) is best friends with the Tap 79 burger, a thick patty of Angus short rib, brisket, and chuck, seared to a crisp on the outside and pink in the middle, then topped with Scottish cheddar and bacon ($12). It’s a burger to die for. That’s not to mention a mac ‘n’ cheese ($8) that’s so delicious the restaurant tends to run out of it well before closing, and the truffle fries, which could possibly be the world’s best use of a spud.

Readers’ choice: Kush

Deep within the recesses of the monolithic Loews Hotel complex lies a small, intimate outdoor bar lit by tiki torches and string lamps. The cocktails, crafted under the guidance of bar manager Rob Ferrara, are segmented into categories like classics and new school, but it’s the modern takes on classic (and potent) tiki cocktails that make the Rum Line so special. The drinks call to you like the song of a sea siren… sweet and frothy yet with a respectable bite. The Tug Boat ($16) is a perfect example. Made with two Jamaican rums, allspice dram, honey, and ginger, it’s smooth, spicy, and can knock you on your ass if you’re not careful — exactly what a good tiki drink is supposed to do. With its unpretentious bamboo furniture, large communal tables, and ever-present sea breezes, the Rum Line is the best place to live out your island fantasies — especially when your island happens to be Miami Beach.

Readers’ choice: The Broken Shaker

Not every man can get away with wearing full emperor regalia, but at last year’s Tales of the Cocktail — the world’s largest mixologist festival — John Lermayer dressed like Napoleon and then mooned all of New Orleans from a balcony high above the French Quarter. Look up “bon vivant” in the dictionary and you’ll likely see a picture of the ever-social bartender. Lermayer jets to all corners of the country —from the Hamptons to Manhattan to South Beach — to represent spirits companies or consult on a new beverage program for a chic lounge. But behind that glamorous life, Lermayer has the goods to back it up. The New York native shook Miami’s cocktail foundation to the core when he opened the Florida Room at the Delano, bringing the art of the cocktail to a city where Diet Coke and vodka was the drink of choice. Lermayer then went on to create the mixology program at Blackbird Ordinary and the Regent Cocktail Club at South Beach’s Gale Hotel. These days, he is working on opening Sweet Liberty Drink & Supply Co. later this summer in South Beach. The emperor of the cocktail has truly conquered Miami.

Readers’ choice: Hector Acevedo, Fontainebleau Miami Beach

Even in a city full of oversized egos, Miami’s DJs aren’t exactly short on unearned self-confidence. That’s why it’s so refreshing to find a beatmaker as approachable and humble as Lazaro Casanova, who has been DJing and producing music for more than a decade. Casanova first rose to prominence as the resident DJ of Miami’s premier indie-dance party Revolver. But after he grew tired of the cooler-than-thou hipster scene, he moved on to house music, where he eventually hooked up with one of the city’s most iconic DJs, Oscar G, who became a mentor of sorts as Casanova explored Afro and Latin sounds while delving deeper into house-music aesthetics. Casanova now travels the globe as one of Miami’s best musical ambassadors. This year, Oscar G and Ralph Falcon bestowed upon him the managerial duties of Murk Records, one of the city’s most important dance labels. And right now, the place to catch Casanova spinning live is at Murk Mondays at Coyo Taco (2300 NW Second Ave., Miami), where — alongside Oscar G and Ralph Falcon in person — he shows Miami every week that great, made-in-the-305 dance music is alive and well.

lazarocasanova.com

Readers’ choice: DJ Irie

Any music lover with a laptop can be a “producer,” but it takes true skill, vision, and perhaps a touch of madness to be an “artist.” That’s a moniker that’s earned, and 24-year-old Niko Javan has done more than most to claim the rights. Not only is he an inspiring musician but he’s a mind-melting visual artist. He creates all his own music videos, packed with mind-warping visuals. For the title track of his latest EP, Pornicopia, he put together a smart-but-WTF-worthy NSFW clip depicting fruits and vegetables doing truly unmentionable things to each other. And he even made an iPhone app for the album! Musically, he’s a chameleon, constantly changing his colors to fit the vibe. He can rep trap, moombahton, electro, hip-hop, house, and everything in between. Before Pornicopia‘s ass-shaking, feel-good island vibes, he dug into sexy house atmospheres on Dream Boat, and before that, he went deep and dark on Trench. Javan’s a man defined less by genre than by personal motivation. Always pushing himself toward new sounds, boredom is the only enemy and stagnation the only sin. The one constant in Niko’s world is the element of fun individualism. In other words, he may be a serious artist, but he’s never to be taken too seriously. He’s the kind of guy who wears Cheetohs T-shirts and takes press photos in furniture stores. In short, he’s very Miami.

twitter.com/nikojavan

From the ashes of Bella Rose and the Boom Boom Room rose the littlest club that could, Do Not Sit on the Furniture — or as it’s more commonly known to Miami clubbers, Do Not Sit. The name is a mouthful, but it’s also an apt reminder of the club’s M.O.: Whatever you do, keep on dancin’. The people behind the mini nightclub in the heart of South Beach include San Francisco DJ/producer Behrouz and his wife, Megan Nazeri. And since 2013, Do Not Sit has been packing the space thanks to smart bookings like Nic Fanciulli, Seth Troxler, and Josh Wink. As reliably great as the music is, Do Not Sit’s best attribute is its relaxed vibe. For once in SoBe, worries about being pushed aside by bottle-service demands or dealing with overly packed dance floors go out the window. A simple but hypnotic disco ball revolves over the flood, while a sound system capable of rearranging your internal organs pumps out the bass. Drinks are moderately priced (for the Beach, anyway), with beers going for around $5 and well drinks ranging from $8 to $10, depending upon the night.

Readers’ choice: LIV

Whimsical, quirky, captivating — no other band captures the Magic City’s hot burnin’ soul quite like Bluejay. Although all the members are Miami natives, the “indie soul” trio first coalesced in Tallahassee at Florida State University, where lead singer and guitarist Jay Thomas met cellist Oscar Quesada. Thomas’ sister, JoJo Sunshine, later joined the boys as the pulse of the group, adding percussion — snares, a floor tom, and kick drum — and, eventually, the synth. The trio finally came to fruition in 2009, when Thomas, Quesada, and Sunshine performed their first gig as Bluejay, eventually releasing their debut studio album, Mercury, followed by their sophomore production, Goblins. Their latest work, Bluejay Mixtape Vol. 1, includes live recordings and reworked and rerecorded versions of their older songs. But what really makes Bluejay stand out is its live shows. No matter where it plays, whether at small, intimate venues like downtown Miami’s Railroad Blues or at outdoor music concerts like this year’s Heineken TransAtlantic Festival, Bluejay bridges the gap between Miami’s rock and electronic-music scenes, bringing a new sound of acoustic folk and warmth to the 305.

bluejaysongs.com

Readers’ choice: SunGhosts

Yes, the Jellyfish Brothers are actual brothers. They’re also the dudes — Greg and Eddy Alvarez — behind Audio Junkie, the much-loved series of experimental music documentaries about mostly local bands. For the past few years, the Alvarezes have ceaselessly toiled away on their film and music projects, becoming minor celebrities among the folks who frequent Wynwood and Little Haiti’s rock clubs. Yet they remain unknown to most Miami music fans. Maybe that’s the way Greg and Eddy like it. But we sure as hell wouldn’t mind if their new album, Hyperlight Drifter, a trippy dance-punk piece of work with nods to freestyle and street rap, scored the Jellyfish Bros a gig reworking Pitbull’s next ode to culo. And hey, don’t say it can’t happen. In a world where the 305’s ambassador to the Bermuda Triangle, the eminently weird Otto von Schirach, has helmed an official remix for Gloria Estefan, anything is possible.

jellyfishbrothers.com

There’s more to Hialeah than agua, fango, y factoría. In fact, the City of Progress is home to “the José Martí of Miami’s Latin funk scene,” Electric Piquete. Rumbiando their way through the Magic City since their first appearance in 2008 at Churchill’s annual HialeahFest, EP has become a staple in the 305’s Latin music scene, performing everywhere from Little Havana’s Ball & Chain to Coral Gables’ Carnaval on the Mile and to national television audiences on Fusion TV. The band released its debut self-titled album in 2011 but is currently working on its sophomore production. While los músicos definitely know how to make la gente bailar with their jazzy Latin tunes, EP prides itself on its Cuban (and Puerto Rican) roots, as revealed in its latest tracks — “En La Playa Girón,” which was inspired by the Bay of Pigs invasion, which bassist Michael Mut’s grandfather and the band’s trumpet player, Rich Dixon, were a part of — and “De Cara al Sol,” taken from Cuban poet and political activist José Martí’s Versos Sencillos. Though Electric Piquete turns up the fuego everywhere it plays, it never forgets where it came from.

electricpiquete.com

Not quite classifiable as hip-hop, rock, or pop, Twelve’Len’s Zach Fogarty, Vares Joseph, and John Falco insist, “We’re creating our own genre.” With four collections of carefully crafted, stylistically nuanced cuts, this threesome is exploring the kind of heady future tuneage that blends all of Miami’s essential yet disparate music scenes into a single mercurial sound. On Yellow, their debut EP release, Fogarty, Joseph, and Falco experimented with indie pop and alternative rock while still taking the occasional side trip into hip-hop. Next, they turned Blue, venturing into moody electronica. And then, for Silver, they transitioned toward soulfully ambient singer-songwriter stuff, shapeshifting again. Now the Twelve’Len guys are prepping their latest effort, Pink, and it is a refined, streamlined take on their so-often sprawling aesthetic. Track to track, verse to verse, Fogarty, Joseph, and Falco cross-fade between hip-hop, rock, pop, dance, soul, R&B, and the multitudinous other sonic shades of Yellow, Blue, and Silver to finally achieve the synesthetic vision they’ve been chasing since professing to be “a different kind of indie band for the Miami scene.”

twelvelen.com

Bass, booty, house music, Spanglish phone sex, and Calle Ocho motel hookups. Those are just some of the archetypal aspects of life in the 305 — from its streets to its clubs to its darkest pay-by-the-hour rooms — that inspire Little Havana’s own Jesse Perez to bump dirty beats till each and every ass is bouncin’ from la esquina to the VIP. As a Dade County dude who grew up on Miami bass and homegrown house, he is the heir to Uncle Luke and DJ Laz, Oscar G and Ralph Falcon. Commanding a flawless feel for definitive South Florida party sounds and a deliriously NSFW sense of humor, Perez makes brainy hump music that could come only from Miami, with track titles like “Hialeah Chongita,” “Bukkake Challenge,” and “Still Slangin’ That D.” He’s nasty. He’s shameless. He’s hilarious. And his debut full-length slab, 2014’s Kama Sucia, is a 305 masterpiece made for bumpin’, grindin’, and sippin’ warm rum in an Executive Fantasy Hotel bed that hasn’t been made for two days.

soundcloud.com/jesseperez

Video may well have killed the radio star, but Shake 108 FM is bringing that music back to life one killer track at a time. The nonprofit radio station launched last year thanks to the 2010 Local Community Radio Act, which gives small-time radio operators a shot at starting their own community-based station. Local music junkie Peter Stebbins had plotted everything from going pirate radio to opening a station in Bimini with a giant antenna before the new law gave him a legal — and more realistic — shot at radio glory. With only three available frequencies in the Magic City at the time, the chances for a newbie like Stebbins launching his own radio station were slim. But the man shakin’ things up in Miami got lucky. And now the rest of the city finally has a musically tasteful radio station that not only leaves the Taylor Swifts, Sam Smiths, and Meghan Trainors of the world to Y-100 but that supports the local community. More so, local music. With tunes that range from Miami’s Suénalo to Jack Johnson to Daft Punk, Shake 108 lives up to its mission: “to provide a wide variety of music that makes you wanna shake your booty!”

shake108.com

Readers’ choice: Y100

Experience, technology, and a legacy of amazing production: Those are the rock-solid foundations of the Studio Center in Miami Lakes. After all, the studio has been helping musicians on a local, national, and international scale get their dreams out of their heads and onto the master tape for more than 30 years. In that time, it has earned eight Grammy Awards for its work with artists including Shakira and Ricky Martin. It’s got an award-winning video-production studio too whose work you may recall on hit shows like Flipper and Smokey and the Bandit. Whatever kind of groove you want to lay down, Studio Center’s got state-of-the-art equipment tailored to your sound, from hip-hop to rock, pop, Latin, folk, jazz, and punk. These storied halls have graced the world with LPs from everyone from Kool & the Gang to Ginuwine to the Game. Even Scott Storch and Madonna laid down some vinyl magic in Miami Lakes. With four studio options packing multiple rooms and vocal booths, who knows what you’ll cook up in here? You can’t make that solid-gold hit unless you put in the work.

DIY will never die. Especially if outfits like Miami’s Limited Fanfare Records continue to crank out kick-ass independent music on vinyl, cassette, CD, and digital formats. Launched in 2011, this local label, run by band manager and music-industry veteran Brian Kurtz, has released dozens of albums, EPs, compilations, and singles by both national and local acts, from Los Angeles garage rockers the Ettes and Nashville’s Denney and the Jets to Miami rock bands Ex Norwegian and Lil Daggers. The imprint was initially funded by selling off Kurtz’s beloved record collection. And though the operation has since achieved fiscal balance through the increasingly dicey business of music sales, the boss’ decision to cash in his most treasured worldly possessions in pursuit of a dream job is an obvious sign of how deeply and personally invested he, the bands, and the rest of the crew have been since the beginning of this collective endeavor. “Limited Fanfare is all about putting out quality music,” Kurtz says. “Not money. Not hype.”

limitedfanfare.com

Sure, there aren’t any louche, syphilitic bohemians slumped over the bar while sucking on absinthe-soaked sugar cubes. But still, Le Chat Noir in downtown Miami oozes a certain kind of 1910s Parisian chic, with its art nouveau design flourishes and dim, dark air of decadent sophistication. As for the musical entertainment, the denizens of this South Miami Avenue salon, just like the French hipsters of the early 20th Century, prefer jazz — whether era-appropriate Dixieland stuff or bebop, cool, Latin, acid, and trip-hop, among other styles. So twist your mustache, adjust your bustier, cross your legs like un artiste, order a sandwich Lorraine avec salade, and polish off that bottle of Clot d’Ivern Valencia Brut while brooding over your petty bourgeois problems, cursing la stupidité de l’homme, or contemplating eternal existential conundrums to the bruit magnifique of the Magic City’s most skilled players, from Felipe Lamoglia, Silvano Monasterios, and Tony Madruga to Rose Max & Ramatis, as they jam downstairs in the cellar.

Under the Miami night sky, the Biscayne breeze is blowing. The decibels are booming. Whether it’s Ultra Music Festival, Nicki Minaj, or Marilyn Manson, there is almost no concert experience that isn’t made better by being staged at Bayfront Park Amphitheatre. Among the Magic City’s only permanent outdoor performance grounds, this 2,600-seat, 8,000-person music venue lends a heightened intensity and inimitable sense of place to any show, especially after sunset, when the heat eases, the moonlight flickers across Biscayne’s dark waters, and the downtown Miami skyline looms, shiny yet shadowy, like a jagged black mirror reflecting pyrotechnics, flashing lights, and fireworks. It’s a shame the waterside setting has been underused for so many years, with only a few major spectacles per 12 months. But now that Live Nation has recently rebooted Bayfront Park Amphitheatre, we don’t have to wait six months between open-air concerts. And, yes, the music will flow even during hurricane season. The amphitheater’s official year-round policy: “Rain or shine.”

Miami’s party veterans are well familiar with the hallowed space at NE 14th Street and Miami Court. For years, it reigned as nightlife favorite Vagabond, and lately, Steam has been packin’ ’em in. Every Monday through Saturday, Steam turns up the heat and the volume for the best and brightest of the underground dance and hip-hop world. Regular parties like We Lit Wednesdays and PUSH Fridays make it a safe bet that some rowdy trouble is going down inside, often featuring international names passing through South Florida. But the real beauty of Steam is its support for local DJs, MCs, and all-around talent. Local musicians are always opening and closing the party or headlining the whole affair. Out back, Steam upped its game earlier this year with Lot 14 — a shipping container turned outdoor concert venue often married with delicious homemade barbecue for sale.

Rarely do we see a live performance that leaves us in awe. And rarely do we expect that performance to be at a smaller, midsized venue. But New York duo Phantogram managed to do all that with so little. While they ripped through hits like “Mouthful of Diamonds,” “Howling at the Moon,” and “Bill Murray” at Grand Central last June, they kept the crowd screaming and singing along the entire time. The music was sublime, and the band combined the 15-song set with a light show that was so simple and yet so effective in setting the tone for the performance, which climaxed during “Bill Murray” while singer Sarah Barthel wrapped herself in gold sequins to become a human disco ball. Phantogram’s show proved you don’t have be Lady Gaga or Beyoncé to put on a spectacle fans will never forget.

Doral may be a city of warehouses, golf courses, and mind-destroying road construction, but this commercial hot spot is also home to el club Latino mas caliente in the 305. Attracting rumberos of all sorts, from reggaetoneros Alexis y Fido, Sensato, and J Alvarez to salseros Oscar D’León, Tito el Bambino, and Hansel y Raul to reggae superestrellas Gondwana and Jahfe, this place has been bringing la pachanga to the Magic City for more than two decades. And with parties Thursday through Sunday where damas get in free most nights, as well as Saturday drink specials including $10 open bar para las mujeres ($25 por los hombres), La Covacha has become el mejor spot to swing your hips to Latin beats, not just in Doral but in all of Dade County.

Readers’ choice: Ball & Chain

South Beach needs rock ‘n’ roll. It wasn’t that long ago when famous punk bands such as the Circle Jerks, Slayer, and Social Distortion caused mass mosh chaos alongside locals like Rat Bastard’s Scraping Teeth at seedy clubs on Washington Avenue. But those clubs, like the rest of SoBe, all became VIP bottle-service havens. So these days, a noisy, boozy beach joint with actual bands like Kill Your Idol (owned by the same nightlife and restaurant group, Sub-Culture, that’s behind West Palm’s Respectable Street and a dozen other ventures) is a rare thing. Lately, KYI has been adopted as the official oceanside clubhouse of Patrick Garcia’s cassette label and concert promotions company Cheap Miami. And that has meant weekly shots of punk rock, psychedelic rock, freak-folk rock, and all kinds of other guitar-based tuneage. As Mr. Cheap Miami himself would say: “Kill Your Idol is the only place to catch rock ‘n’ roll on South Beach.”

Readers’ choice: Churchill’s Pub

Going underground seems to be the only option for a nightlife establishment in Miami’s Design District these days. Nearly no party spots or live-music joints are left in a neighborhood where storefronts appear destined to exclusive occupation by luxury retailers, wealthy cultural institutions, and high-end condos. So it was entirely improbable for Miami Music Club — an experimental electronic music, art, and literature venue — to take up residence on the same street as a Lanvin boutique and the Miami Center for Plastic Surgery. But thanks to Dacra, the artist-friendly real-estate company that donated a space for the venue, it did. And it’s since become the favorite (figuratively) subterranean place for people who just wanna dance to throbbing digital noise, meditate in a horizontal state on a mound of textile art, or buy a poetry zine from the consignment store. Opened earlier this year by former Slashpine band members Rob Goyanes (now performing as Bobby Flan) and Brad Lovett (AKA Dim Past), along with artist-archivist Dave Rodriguez and videographer Ricky Vazquez, MMC actually started last year as an intermittent nomadic project. So there’s no telling how long it will last in the Design District. But even if this “space that’s independent, inclusive, and artistically excellent” eventually finds a new home, the Miami Music Club will go only where MMC can always be found: underground.

Tootsie’s is a towering theme park among Miami strip clubs. There is a sports bar, called Knockers, inside the club. There is a restaurant dishing out three square meals a day. There is a VIP area flooded with pro athletes, real-estate tycoons, and famous rappers. There are private skyboxes for full-nudity shenanigans. There’s even a replica New York City subway car where the only destination is Lap Dance Station. A 74,000-square-foot adults-only arena that’s geared toward satisfying the most prurient desires of the high-T set (otherwise known as those bros suffering from excessive testosterone levels), this Miami Gardens strip club is a pulsing, throbbing pleasure palace where the only forms of entertainment are boobs, booze, and endless sports highlights. The TV screens are the size of Jumbotrons. The beers are cheap. The joint’s four bars are always fully stocked. The stripper stage is enormous. The brass pole is a daunting 30-foot drop. And the club’s 300 ladies are out of your league. It’s like you died and went to a drunk, naked afterparty for Super Bowl XXX.

Readers’ choice: E11even Miami

Walk through the plain door at the end of the shopping center, up the two flights of stairs, and into the smoke-filled, dimly lit room. Pull out your cue. And put on your game face. Because you’re in Sharp Shooters, and this isn’t some college-crowd, beer-guzzling haven where loud novices mess their way through half-hearted games. This is where sharks come to sharpen their teeth, where street-weary men and women take a load off and banish the day by punishing a cue ball. The gorgeous, well-lined tables are kept dark until you rack up. There’s a Ms. Pac-Man/Galaga unit in the back and a jukebox that gets played here and there, and the bar comes stocked with a full liquor bar, a nacho machine, and a surprisingly well-rounded menu of snacks if you get the munchies. In spite of the extras, the only real focus is getting that eight ball in the corner pocket before the other fella. Most players come with their own gear, but there’s plenty of cues and chalk to go around. Give the bartender your ID and get a full set of balls. At $6.50 an hour, or 11 cents a minute, you can’t beat the deal, and a nightly curfew of 2 a.m. means you’ve got practically all night. Stop by during happy hour from 5 to 8 p.m. and get a free hour of game play when you purchase two beers already marked down by 50 percent. You can even buy cues and personal billiards gear if you think you’re ready to go pro. Just don’t be a sore loser if that shark at the next table cleans you out.

Readers’ choice: Lost Weekend

Ugg boots and elegance. Paris Hilton and scholarship. South Beach and free. Some words just don’t belong in the same sentence together. Yet thanks to the magic of Purdy Lounge, they do. No, Paris Hilton isn’t reading the collected works of Proust while regally clad in Uggs. We’re talking about that last word pairing, because Purdy never has a cover, and every Thursday, from 11 p.m. to 1 a.m., ladies drink for stone-cold nothing. All that gratis booze is served with a side of the best dancehall, reggae, and old-school hip-hop jams. When you’re booty-dancing to Q-Tip, slinging back free drinks, and marveling at the cover-free entrance to the club, anything seems possible. Well, maybe not that Paris-Hilton-reading-Proust thing.

Miamians gliding into your 30s: We feel you. The kind of after-hours scene that got you through your 20s — you know, the spots trembling with loud music and jammed with throngs of people waiting to watch the sun rise — sounds more and more like a terrible idea. Age may have tamed that party-hard attitude, but that doesn’t mean you have to be in bed by midnight. Enter the Corner, one of only two bars in the city that possesses a 24-hour liquor license. The bar doesn’t take full advantage of the perk (hey, bartenders need sleep too!), but it does stay open past 5 a.m. on weekends. So you can watch the sun rise as you pull up a chair on the sidewalk to ogle the clubgoers stumbling out of downtown’s clubs. While craft libations are available at all hours of the night and early morning, by 6 a.m. not many drinkers pretend they care about “fresh ingredients” or small-batch liquors. A Stella and something off the food menu will do, like a grilled cheese ($5.50) or the aptly named pressed turkey sandwich the Favorite ($9). By the time that 8 a.m. bedtime rolls around, that buzz is still going, and your belly is full. Best of all: You didn’t have to fist-pump once to get here.

Now that Mad Men is over, we’d like to propose that Don Draper is, in fact, alive and well and has relocated to Miami. In fact, the retired bachelor has probably taken up residence at the Vagabond Hotel, where Draper would, no doubt admire the clean MiMo decor and mermaid inside the pool. If that’s not enough to entice Draper to become the hotel’s ad-man-in-residence, the Vagabond’s hotel bar would surely do the trick. The alfresco poolside bar is a Shangri-la unto itself. Don could admire the pristine chrome bar and bright-green AstroTurf, a marriage of Miami and Palm Springs. Ever the whiskey man, Don would savor a bourbon punch made with Rittenhouse rye, while his lady friend du jour sips a Vagabond collins, the hotel’s take on the classic tall cocktail. And since that SC&P cash buyout can’t last forever, a frugal Don can take advantage of the bar’s happy hour on weeknights from 4 to 7 p.m., when beers are $4, wine is $5, and cocktails are $6. Welcome home, Don.

Readers’ choice: The Broken Shaker

As its masked wrestler mascot often growlingly explains: “Tuff Gnarl is a community of writers uncovering pop culture’s hidden gems, bub!” Founded in 2013 by former Livid Records label boss Chuck Livid and artist-writer Tony Kapel (who has since amicably vacated his office at Tuff headquarters), this blog, edited by South Florida freelancer Jesse Scheckner, covers music, art, videogames, comics, and, yes, professional wrestling, as well as tons of other Gnarly topics. But the hidden gems among its hidden gems are the Tuff team’s album lists, band interviews, and concert reviews, which take on not only the occasional body-slamming of famous folks like Kiss and Danzig but also the critiquing and cataloguing of Miami-Dade, Broward, and Palm Beach bands. And though Livid and crew have an obvious affinity for punk rock, they tackle rap, Top 40, chiptune, indie folk, and other stuff too. These journalistic luchadores even occasionally grapple with the truth and beauty of opera. That’s called sophistication, bub.

tuffgnarl.com

Through 12 years of the International Noise Conference, we’ve seen stuffed animals decapitated onstage, people sloshing around in puddles of their own body fluids, cross-dressers wearing strap-ons… oh, and maybe one or two instances of people playing something you could potentially call a “song.” Organized by local-music-scene legend Rat Bastard, INC has stretched into a five-day fest held every February at Churchill’s Pub that brings noise performers from all over the world. With a few rules in place (no laptops, no mixing board, and no incessant droning), literally hundreds of performers throughout the week take to the stage for ten- to 15-minute sets to make noise in just about any way they can. Sometimes that involves things like drums and guitars; other times, it involves people just screaming into a mic. It’s a cavalcade of challenging aural textures, primal energy, and true freaks.

internationalnoiseconference.com

Yambo is the most famous Nicaraguan fritanga in Miami, rightly as renowned for its knickknack-jumbled decor as the carne asada, gallo pinto, and maduros. Oddly, this SW First Street landmark is also one of the few remaining Dade County spots with a jukebox that doesn’t look like a giant, dumb iPod. Amid the burro masks, “Chancho con Yuca” signs, and chicken statues, there is a vintage coin-operated CD machine loaded with mariachi music, Juan Gabriel, reggaeton records, Yo Quiero Bachata compilations, and Nica folk tunes. Pop four quarters into the slot. Punch the buttons. And sing along. This is what they call una fiesta in Managua. Especially when you’ve got a mouthful of queso and a cold Toña in your hand.

Wanna make your heavy-metal fantasies come true? Every week, Miami’s premier purveyor of karaoke nights, Kara-O-King, headbangs into Kendall sports bar Little Hoolie’s with “members of South Florida’s most brutal rock bands” for an evening of amateur AC/DC, Metallica, and Ozzy covers. Go be the 400-pound behemoth of a man who belts out a growlingly perfect note-for-note take of “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” after guzzling a dozen Foster’s Lager fat cans and slamming four shots of Jameson. Or maybe you’re more the sort of metalhead who wears spike heels, leather pants, and a Satan skull choker, sips Jäger like soda, smokes clove cigarettes, and likes to show off a scorching version of “Master of Puppets” that once made James Hetfield himself shed tears of fear. We’ve even seen a funny guy with long hair and purple-lensed round sunglasses mumble his way through the opening verse of “Crazy Train” before ripping into the chorus like a clone of the Prince of Darkness. But hey, even if you can’t sing, you can scream.

Readers’ choice: Sing Sing Karaoke

For the past 13 years, Theatre de Underground has been a weekly creative free-for-all where Miami’s aspiring singer-songwriters, punk rockers, and noise freaks have gathered to strum, scream, and literally crap their pants in hopes of booking a paying gig at the legendary Churchill’s Pub. Of course, the talent has never been exclusively musical. As the self-described “most open-minded (and longest-running) open-mike night in town,” Theatre de Underground has steadfastly preserved its backyard patio stage’s reputation as a lawless, judgment-free zone upon which any humanoid with a performative talent can endeavor to earn fame, fortune, or unshakable shame. Over the past decade and counting, there have been, the evening’s overseers say, thousands and thousands of “poets, storytellers, musicians, bands, comedians, magicians, jugglers, and a few things that cannot be categorized.” This is the quintessential Miami open-mike night. And it isn’t always good. But it’s always what the average Churchill’s drunk would describe as “fucking entertaining.”

Tucked away amid an array of warehouses in southwest Miami is your latest wax addiction. Museo del Disco has hooked up music junkies with a wide selection of CDs, DVDs, cassettes, and more since 2001, but the institution’s foray into vinyl began just a couple of years ago. As interest in the once-obsolete format continues to surge, so too does Museo’s burgeoning collection, with new rows of classic wax appearing every month. All artists are lumped together alphabetically, although there’s a classic blues and jazz section that stands alone for music fans with a classic edge. Sift through the LPs to find vintage concert recordings like Miami Pop Festival or new hit makers from Fun to Ariel Pink. The price is right considering all the records they carry are brand new. And if you need any guidance in how to stuff your vinyl crate, musically obsessed owner Hinsul Lazo is sure to come by and show you around before you even have to ask.

Amid yet another futuristic-looking development boom, filled with towering cranes and shiny skyscrapers, it’s easy to forget the Magic City has a rich past. Thankfully, a few minutes spent wandering through HistoryMiami cures that misconception in a hurry. Stashed away in an expansive building in downtown Miami are scores of archives, artifacts, and photographs from every era of South Florida’s development, including more than a million images from the late 1800s to today. HistoryMiami grew even bigger this year thanks to the neighboring Miami Art Museum’s move to a glittering new building on Biscayne Bay. The extra space allowed HistoryMiami to usher in several memorable exhibitions, including “Some Like It Hot,” which concentrated on the evolution of the burgeoning street art community in Miami, and “Concrete Paradise,” which featured audio clips, images, and historic plans concerning Miami Marine Stadium, an iconic architectural gem shuttered after Hurricane Andrew.

Readers’ choice: Pérez Art Museum Miami

Last year’s public feud between the City of North Miami and the board of its Museum of Contemporary Art got ugly. But at least it had a happy ending: the addition of the Institute of Contemporary Art to Miami’s ever-evolving art scene. Founded by former MOCA board members and staff, the ICA opened with a bang during Art Basel 2014, showcasing the politically charged works of New York artist Andra Ursuta alongside an immersive installation, Sanatorium, for which Mexican artist Pedro Reyes trained local volunteers to offer free “therapy” to museum visitors. Participants engaged in everything from theater warm-up exercises to hypnosis, creating one of the most unforgettable events to take place during Miami Art Week last year. The ICA also showed off its commitment to Miami by opening its exhibitions to area schoolchildren before the general public. And all of this went down at the Moore Building in the Design District, an area that in recent years has been better known for designer shopping than boundary-pushing art. Oh, and did we mention admission is free?

Even in a town where pop-up galleries burst onto the scene and disappear with fruit-fly-like speed, Guccivuitton is a new kid on the block. Headed by local artists Loriel Beltran, Domingo Castillo, and Aramis Gutierrez, the cheekily named outpost opened its doors in 2013 in Little Haiti. The gallery hit it big with its very first show, “Art404 — IRL (In Real Life).” Since then, Guccivuitton has hosted a variety of smart and interesting exhibitions, including the 2014 group show “Luxury Face,” which elegantly skewered consumer culture. That exhibition caught the attention of the New York Times and Vice’s i-D. And most recently, the gallery hosted what was likely the most interesting of the Purvis Young shows that have flooded the city in the past year. Perhaps it’s also worth mentioning that the gallery has managed this success without the hype of Wynwood’s graffiti-covered walls. Guccivuitton recently expanded its reach to Miami’s museums. The collective’s collaboration with the Institute of Contemporary Art is on view at that museum until September 25. The gallery’s hours are Saturday from noon to 5 and by appointment.

Readers’ choice: Locust Projects

A room partition decorated with busty beach babes. A love seat constructed out of concrete dividers. Planters made of South Florida earth and tiny treasures, like action figures, that the artist himself dug up. Emmett Moore’s exhibit at Design Miami last year brought peak 305 flair to the art fair — and cemented the gallery representing him, Gallery Diet, as the first Miami-based space to earn a spot at Design Miami in its ten-year history. Miami Art Week 2014 may have been the first time that out-of-towners discovered Moore’s work, but locals in the know have been familiar with the sculptor and designer’s simple, striking creations for years. Sometimes they’re functional, like his artfully designed chairs and shelves. (Moore studied furniture design at RISD.) Sometimes they’re abstract, like pieces of plywood digitally printed with trippy designs. And often they reference the city Moore calls home, whether through the outline of a pair of sunglasses he installed on Gallery Diet’s exterior or the sign he rescued from Miami Marine Stadium and folded into a sculpture, which was on view at Swampspace last year. Moore applies his restrained taste to Miami’s outrageous ambiance, and the result is a body of work that’ll inspire you to see the city in a new light.

emmettmoore.com

Walking through Wynwood is like taking a master class in street art: You’re surrounded by murals created by an ever-changing roster of artists practicing a wide variety of styles. But for the students at Wynwood’s Jose de Diego Middle School, the trip to school was once the only arts education they got. Despite its location in Miami’s busiest arts district, funding shortfalls meant Jose de Diego had been without an arts program for five years. But then Miami’s booming street art scene got involved. In 2014, dozens of artists, organized by WynwoodMap.com creator Robert William, joined forces to beautify the school’s plain white walls — and to help its students in the process. Now students attend classes surrounded by works of art created by the city’s top names, like Ahol Sniffs Glue and Typoe, as well as international talent including UK artist D*Face and Italy’s Pixel Pancho. The project debuted during Art Basel. Now the murals provide limitless inspiration for the kids who walk its halls — and Jose de Diego’s new arts program is slated to begin in the fall thanks in part to money raised by the mural-painting event.

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Gideon Barnett isn’t your average Miami photographer. You won’t find perfectly sunlit photographs of the waterfront skyline hanging in his shows, and the city’s beautiful people aren’t usually posing for his camera. Miami, however, is omnipresent in Barnett’s work. If you quickly glance at his series of photographs titled Modern Pictures, you’ll simply see a perfectly composed photograph of the Magic City, but look closer and the city starts to unravel: In Dolorous Interlude, children play in idyllic weather in a verdant park, but in the corner of the photograph lies a passed-out homeless man; in Landscape With Fallen Child, expensive boats dock at Bayshore and the scene’s splendor makes it easy to miss the small child drowning in the photo’s middle ground. Modern Pictures captures Miami’s dichotomy: on one hand glittering and gorgeous, on the other dysfunctional and dangerous.

gideonbarnett.com

Local rockers Aura the Band’s dream tour would be with Joe Satriani. Hardcore group Trench’s members “all hate cops.” South Florida up-and-comers Pocket of Lollipops began writing songs after being inspired by the documentary La Bamba. These are just a few of the myriad and fascinating revelations that have been gifted to Miami music lovers by Tropicult, a wonderfully diverse site devoted to Miami’s food, fashion, film, art, music, and events. The recurring Behind the Music series, which features interviews with local bands like those cited above, is consistently fascinating. Tropicult even turns Miami’s narcissistic fashion culture on its head via stories and suggestions on trends by local shop owner Dopedoll Vintage.

tropicult.com

Phillip Pessar is already a local superstar on Flickr, where he points his camera lens at landmarks all around the Magic City. However, if you’re expecting photos of Miami’s soaring skyscrapers and hoity-toity hotels on his Instagram feed, you’ll be sorely disappointed. There’s some of that, but the bulk of the 58-year-old photographer’s work documents the Miami we remember as children and which is quickly disappearing to make room for residents with little sentimental attachment to the city. Yes, Pessar’s oeuvre includes that old-school Dairy Queen your dad used to take you to, and it includes the seedy Okeechobee Road motels you walked by on your way to school. And though Pessar isn’t as active on Instagram as Flickr, his feed is a good primer for his work and will probably lead you to his extensive Flickr collection, where you can easily spend half a day looking through all the photos. “I’m trying to keep the memory of the few things that are left in South Florida that have been here for 40 years but are disappearing little by little,” he recently told New Times. Get ready for the tsunami of nostalgia you’re about to feel.

instagram.com/phillippessar

He’s best known for producing renowned documentaries such as Cocaine Cowboys and The U, but homegrown filmmaker and provocateur Billy Corben is also a serious newshound with a startlingly effective Twitter presence. Corben has more than 35,000 followers, and his feed serves as its own Miami-centric internet force — funny or strange aggregations of shark attacks, bikini-clad grandmas getting arrested and other Florida insanity, hard-hitting engagement with Miami-Dade politicians over police misconduct or local corruption, plus sharp commentary on everything from University of Miami sports to civil rights. In other words, if it’s important to Miami, Corben is probably tweeting about it. (In fact, he even made some judicial South Florida history by inspiring a defense attorney to request a mistrial after Corben had tweeted during jury duty; the verdict stood, and Twitter rejoiced.) His feed is so prolific it’s a wonder Corben has time to do anything else.

twitter.com/billycorben

Readers’ choice: Pepe Billete, twitter.com/pepebillete

Trying to pin down Edwidge Danticat as a writer is like trying to encapsulate her maddening, tragic, and beautiful homeland in just a few words. The Haitian-American is the rare writer who can move effortlessly between fiction and nonfiction, gritty realism and magic-tinged short stories and even young-adult fiction. In her novels and nonfiction, she fearlessly explores themes of national identity and the Haitian diaspora, intertwining the two difficult subjects with issues of gender and family relationships. Take, for example, Danticat’s second book, Krik? Krack!, a collection of short stories that tells the fictional tales of nine Haitians, exquisitely detailing the pain and brutality of living under a dictatorial government while celebrating the resilience of Haitians. The book garnered a National Book Award nomination, which was followed in 2009 by a MacArthur Fellowship. For her next book, Danticat has taken inspiration from the Magic City. Untwine — due for release this fall — tells the story of identical twin sisters and is partially set in Miami.

facebook.com/edwidgedanticat

Hialeah conjures many things for Miami-Dade residents: legit Cuban food, crooked city government, unnavigable urban sprawl. But how about a hotbed of literary fiction? Believe it, thanks to native daughter Jennine Capó Crucet, who is positioned to become the definitive voice of the city. Her first book of short stories, How to Leave Hialeah, gave voice to the tales of Hialeah’s Cuban abuelos and parents as they explored the identity of first-generation Cuban-Americans. And though Capó Crucet never shies away from the seediness of her hometown or the often-difficult lives of its residents, she writes her subjects with the humor and empathy of a native. How to Leave Hialeah garnered Capó Crucet an Iowa Short Fiction Award, and New Times named it one of its books of the year. Capó Crucet continues her exploration of Cuban identity in her first novel, Make Your Home Among Strangers. Slated for an August release, it’s a must-buy so you can say you read Capó Crucet before she was really famous.

We’re going to come clean. This paper should have hired Carol Marbin Miller. Many years ago, New Times spoke with her. She was moving to South Florida and wanted a job. But we tarried. And that was it. She caught on with the Miami Herald instead and went on to cover the State of Florida’s child welfare morass like no one ever thought possible. Now Marbin Miller and co-author Audra D.S. Burch have picked up just about every major prize in America for their series Innocents Lost, which documents how nearly 500 children died of abuse or neglect over six years in families that had a history with the Florida Department of Children & Families, the state agency tasked with protecting children. Both Burch and Marbin Miller are amazing reporters. We salute them. And hey, Carol, if you ever want a job…

Reporting the news is hard enough, but it takes a true professional to handle a statewide-televised debacle with class and humor. And debacles don’t get much higher-profile than 2014’s “Fangate,” when a Florida gubernatorial debate between Rick Scott and Charlie Crist almost didn’t happen as the two bickered over whether Crist could bring an electric fan onstage. Luckily for viewers, Eliott Rodriguez was the moderator. Without his calm and collected response, the night could have ended in catastrophe instead of a well-deserved drubbing of the two childish candidates. That natural ability to handle on-air spontaneity like a boss is part of what has given the CBS 4 News noon and 6 p.m. anchor his journalistic success. A University of Miami alumnus, the Cuban-American has made his career in the 305. Aside from a short stint with the ABC affiliate in Philadelphia, Rodriguez has worked for almost every major newspaper and TV news station in the Magic City, including the now-defunct evening paper the Miami News, the Miami Herald, NBC 6, and ABC 10. But his longest-running tenure has been with CBS 4. Throughout his 16 years there, Rodriguez has covered almost every major breaking news story, including Marco Rubio’s 2016 presidential campaign announcement at the Freedom Tower in downtown. The news junkie has also won two Emmy Awards and four Edward R. Murrow Awards for his work, among other honors. With decades of experience covering every single area of Miami, Rodriguez is like the godfather of local TV news.

twitter.com/erodcbs4

Readers’ choice: Belkys Nerey

Karlene Chavis might not be the most recognizable meteorologist in Miami — she joined the WSVN Channel 7 team only about a year ago. Plus, Chavis normally sticks to the weekends, getting up bright and early with the South Florida retirees who are about the only people desperate to know the weather forecast at 8 a.m. on a Saturday. But it’s not Chavis’ fine weekend forecasts that have earned her status as Miami’s favored meteorologist this year. One singular event rocketed Chavis to the top of South Florida’s radar: Pitbull’s New Year’s Revolution. Yes, Chavis was lucky enough to have been chosen to deliver weather forecasts between segments of Mr. Worldwide’s nationally televised lip-sync and canned-joke marathon. And Chavis proved to be a true pro, reminding revelers they were blessed to be at the 305-appropriate celebration. After all, just consider how cold it was in the rest of the country that night. Chavis handled the national audience with aplomb while teetering on the highest of high heels while saying words that baffle the average Miamian: “snow,” “sleet” and “freezing rain.” Chavis’ job that night was a quintessentially Miami challenge: being a professional and keeping a straight face while the city did its weird and wonderful thing around her. Bienvenida a Miami, Karlene.

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“Seidenberg cross-sights past Olesz in the far side, tipped out on front. He shoots, he scooores! Beyoncé had one of the greatest music videos of all time!” No other radio play-by-play sportscaster in the National Hockey League can effortlessly tie in Kanye West’s infamous 2009 MTV Video Music Awards snafu to a Florida Panthers goal, but making pop-culture references every time the Cats light the lamp is Randy Moller’s signature style. The only radio play-by-play announcer in the NHL with a history in the game, Moller, a former Quebec Nordiques first-round draft pick, retired from his athletic career in 1995 as a Panthers defenseman before switching to the radio booth. While Moller notched more than 800 NHL games, the veteran is best known in these parts for blurting out hilarious plays across the airwaves on 790 the Ticket, quoting movie lines (“He scores! Run, Forrest, run!“) and even rap lyrics (“Leopold from the blue line! Drop it like it’s hot!“) after every Panthers goal. Moller makes all Cats games the most entertaining sport you’ve ever listened to — even if you’re not into watching dudes chasing pucks on ice.

Readers’ choice: Dan Le Batard

You might not know his name, but you definitely know his voice. Just in case it’s not ringing a bell yet, here’s a reminder: Goooooooaaaaaaal! Andrés Cantor, a legendary soccer broadcaster with a world-class bellow, was born in Argentina and went to college in California. He established himself as a legend during World Cups of yore, especially the 1994 contest in the U.S. when his lungs of God became known to American fans. Since then, there have been talk-show appearances, film cameos, Emmy Awards, and Geico and Volkswagen commercials. Like many a successful Hispanic media personality, Cantor is loaning his golden vocals to Miami-based Telemundo, for whom he anchored coverage of the 2012 London Olympics. Cantor has deep Miami roots: He settled into his first place, near Coconut Grove, in the late ’90s and last year bought a Miami Beach condo — or should we say, a Miami Beach condoooooooooo!

Readers’ choice: Don Francisco

Enrique Encinosa is a big man with a big personality and big credentials. As the host of El Mundo al Día, a weekday evening global affairs and news show on WWFE La Poderosa, Encinosa is smooth and congenial while rehashing the problems plaguing Venezuela’s economy or analyzing the latest development out of Havana’s palacio presidencial. But underneath that warm-coffee demeanor is an intellectual heavyweight, noted historian, and one of Miami’s most ardent anticastristas. Encinosa was born in Havana. After moving to the U.S. as a teenager, he became a preeminent boxing expert and then wrote Cuban political histories like Cuba: The Unfinished Revolution and the smash hit Escambray: The Forgotten War. In his decades-long media career, he’s often been criticized for his feisty ideology — political enemies have said he condones anti-Castro terrorism — but in Miami, on Spanish-language radio, that all just adds up to more street cred.

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Readers’ choice: Enrique Santos

From 2 to 6 p.m., Power 96 is home to the Queen. Afrika Perry — of DJ Laz cohost fame and current afternoon-drive dominance — rocks South Florida airwaves weekdays with a perfect mixture of old-school booty music and new-school hits. Afrika is well known in the South Florida music industry for her in-depth interviews, which are aired live and later archived for posterity on Power 96’s website. Afrika’s energetic and outgoing personality is always a welcome sound when getting into your car after a hard day at work, and her conversation between jams makes for an easy listen when stuck in Miami traffic. Learning from a South Florida legend like DJ Laz has obviously rubbed off on Afrika: Her posts asking listeners to donate to causes like #BootCancer and her “Girl Talk” segments show that she is an all-around personality, not just a disc jockey. Keeping it fun and light for Miami listeners has been Power 96’s specialty for decades, and Afrika continues that noble tradition.

twitter.com/afrikaonair

Readers’ choice: Elvis Duran

Like the city itself, sports radio listeners in Miami are a dizzyingly diverse crowd. That’s why it’s so rare that a sports radio host in this town can hold everyone’s attention, from fútbol-mad Colombians in Kendall to football-crazed bros in Davie. Yet Josh Friedman of 790 AM the Ticket somehow does just that. Friedman balances a vast knowledge of sports with an uncanny ability to rebut callers’ and his cohost’s opinions on the fly. His 7-to-10 p.m. show daily on the Ticket with his equally splendid cohost, Chris Wittyngham, has perfected the art of giving listeners spicy-hot takes on the day’s big stories leavened with a few lighthearted diversions. Friedman is equally at ease telling the story of a 1970s Cubs player he saw play in person as recounting a Twitter firestorm from earlier that afternoon. He whips up the best meat-and-potatoes sports program in town, so it’s no wonder his listeners always leave happily satisfied.

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Readers’ choice: Dan Le Batard

You’re looking to throw a party in Miami but need lots of space — tons of it, in fact. And it needs to be centrally located and a blank canvas for the vision in your head. The answer is Soho Studios in Wynwood, a 70,000-square-foot compound that can hold almost any type of event, from major festivals like III Points to intimate Ketel One-fueled Basel parties. The venue has also hosted art fairs, fashion shows, galas, and productions. It has three major indoor spaces, a large area called Armory Studio, and two outdoor areas that add more square footage — weather permitting, of course. And with its location in a not-so-gentrified area of Wynwood, Soho Studios gives you a feel for the neighborhood before Big Bus Tours came rolling down NW Second Avenue. Soho Studios doesn’t post its rates publicly, but you can call for a walkthrough and estimate. With Wynwood as hot as ever, Soho seems to be benefiting immensely from its zip code. In other words, events are happening there all the time. Better call ahead if you want your party in this sprawling space.

Miami’s diverse selection of art houses has turned thousands of viewers on to the indie film experience in recent years. But perhaps no theater is as adept at getting audiences to eat their small-release vegetables — which are delicious, of course, if you’ll only give them a taste — as the Bill Cosford Cinema at the University of Miami. The auditorium-style space has a legion of film-buff supporters, sure. But it also draws more casual theatergoers through buzzworthy wide releases such as American Sniper and The Interview. Once they’re in the door, those viewers are then exposed to a world of film options they’ve never encountered at the cineplex: foreign features, U.S.-made independent films, and movies that rack up awards on the film festival circuit but never quite reach the national consciousness. The frat bros and party girls of UM may not be converted immediately into miniature Pauline Kaels, but hey, every bit helps.

Readers’ choice: O Cinema

Where in Miami can you pull a double feature, watching the latest Marvel blockbuster and subtitled foreign film back to back? And what’s the only major movie theater that serves both Miami Beach and Miami? Don’t worry — they’re not trick questions designed to ruin your chances at this month’s local pub quiz. The answer is simple, actually: Regal South Beach Stadium 18, at the west end of Lincoln Road Mall. As things to do get increasingly expensive in South Beach, Regal remains a true constant that for $12.50, you can still catch major Hollywood productions, indie releases, and soon-to-be arthouse classics. Regal also has plenty of amenities, including 3D capabilities, IMAX, and digital projection — though Hollywood is still debating whether the last is actually an improvement. Don’t tell Tarantino!

Readers’ choice: Cinepolis Coconut Grove

Born in Guatemala and raised in Miami, Oscar Isaac is the movie star the Magic City has been waiting for. Early in his career, Isaac had a few turns on television, and like seemingly every aspiring actor, he did an episode of Law and Order. But it was his stunning, soulful turn as the title character in the Coen Brothers’ Inside Llewyn Davis that earned Isaac bona fide star status. Set in 1960s Greenwich Village, Inside Llewyn Davis tells the story of a struggling folk singer. Davis is deeply unlikable — selfish, self-centered, and rude — but in the hands of Isaac, he’s a layered character whose flaws make him human. It’s not surprising that Isaac was nominated for a Golden Globe for his nuanced portrayal. Isaac followed up his star-making turn with A Most Violent Year, proving he has a knack for complex roles. But if his first notable films were all about establishing his acting cred, the next are about turning the actor into a marquee name. Next up for Isaac are three big-budget action flicks. He’s set to star as X-wing pilot Poe Dameron in Star Wars: The Force Awakens and the currently untitled Star Wars: Episode VIII. Isaac will also join another powerful franchise when he plays a villain in 2016’s X-Men: Apocalypse. Whatever Isaac is up to next, we’ll be watching. Frankly, we can’t keep our eyes off him. Call us, Oscar!

twitter.com/realoscarisaac

What’s a high-profile chef to do when he flames out on the West Coast? Return to his Miami roots and rediscover the food he loves. That’s the premise of Chef, Jon Favreau’s 2014 film that shows off both sides of Miami — the high-end resorts and beaches where tourists flock, and the cozy mainland haunts where locals gather. Chef Casper’s food truck (played by real-life Miami food truck Jefe’s Original Fish Taco and Burger) makes stops in front of the Fontainebleau and along Ocean Drive, serving up Cuban sandwiches to the swarming masses. But the chef really gets his groove back at Little Havana nightclub Hoy Como Ayer, alongside Sofia Vergara shimmying to its house Cuban band. Casper ultimately leaves Miami to embark on a cross-country road trip with his food truck to return to Los Angeles to prove himself. But he brings Miami’s food along with him for the ride, telling audiences worldwide what South Florida locals have known for decades: Can’t nobody resist a fresh-pressed cubano.

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If you’ve never seen an episode of Jane the Virgin, it might be easy to write the show off. Airing on the CW, it’s an adaptation of a Venezuelan telenovela that tells the story of an optimistic, religious Latina living in Miami who — oops! — is accidentally artificially inseminated during a routine gynecological exam. But once you’ve swallowed the show’s ridiculous premise, you’re free to enjoy the things that make it truly great entertainment. Its charming cast of characters ranges from the down-to-earth and relatable, like Jane herself, to the wonderfully wacky, like her biological father Rogelio, a self-centered telenovela star. Its unique storytelling style uses onscreen text and voice-over narration unlike anything else on television. And most important, especially for Miami audiences, it’s a respectful portrayal of Hispanic culture. “[Jane the Virgin] represents a culture that wants to see themselves as heroes,” star Gina Rodriguez explained in her emotional Emmy Award acceptance speech. Beneath the show’s over-the-top exterior lies a unique, exciting, and complex world packed with plenty of heart — like Miami itself.

cwtv.com/shows/jane-the-virgin

Miami’s Adrienne Arsht Center was graced by a slew of impressive traveling Broadway hits this season, from Wicked to Sister Act and Newsies, but none was as raucously, purely entertaining as The Book of Mormon, a religious satire created by the guys behind South Park. Though the musical’s overarching story chronicled the experience of a pair of missionaries spreading the good news in a war-stricken Uganda, it managed to make light of some very questionable themes, from baby rape to genital mutilation and AIDS, with enough profanity to offend even the raunchiest of potty-mouthed Miamians. But all of that four-letter magic came packaged within enough musical stylings to earn the show nine Grammys in its original NYC run. While touring companies often pale in comparison to the Broadway original, Miami didn’t see any appreciable drop-off. David Larsen as the slowly unraveling Elder Price gave as compelling a portrayal as it was knee-slappingly hilarious.

Playwrights, directors, and actors spend countless hours researching, writing, rewriting, memorizing, staging, and emotionally preparing for work that strives for perfection. With so many variables in play, perfection is seldom realized, as most theater professionals will admit. But when it is, audiences are left breathless and shaken, reaching for handkerchiefs and superlatives to describe an experience that words can’t do justice. That was the case with Mothers and Sons, the crown jewel of GableStage’s season. Set around a surprise visit from a gay widow’s mother-in-law, who still hasn’t accepted her son’s passing from AIDS, Terrence McNally’s play exhibited a profound understanding of gay-straight relations in the 21st Century, riding rapidly shifting tides with an empathetic eye for those left behind. Angie Radosh’s performance humanized intolerance with the truth and complexity of a master craftsman; Michael McKeever channeled the soul of the modern gay man with both patience and quivering, righteous indignation; and Jeremiah Musgrove flawlessly embodied McKeever’s younger boyfriend, representing a healthy generation removed from Stonewall. Director Joseph Adler put all the pieces together for an unforgettable, mind-opening work of art.

As a creative mantra, “write what you know” doesn’t always work: It can result in myopic self-absorption as much as personalized insight. But Third Trinity, the new solo show from Miami wunderkind Teo Castellanos, cemented the value of autobiographical writing in its spartan production at the Light Box at Goldman Warehouse. His frequent partner in the theater of the avant-garde, Tarell Alvin McCraney, directed Castellanos, though it felt like he was directing a bustling ensemble: Castellanos played 23 characters, ranging from himself and his two brothers to petty drug dealers, priests, junkies, and his own grandmother, in a therapeutic and adventurous journey spanning three decades. Local audiences connected with the show’s excursions into Cocaine Cowboys territory — the script, with its Goodfellas-like Mob menace, was originally penned as a screenplay — not to mention the vintage Dade County images projected onstage and the cauldron of South Floridian dialects Castellanos combined. The show could easily play elsewhere in the country, but it will always be ours.

This year really did bring a new theater to the New Theatre, as the longtime Miami company completed its first full season in the breathtaking South Miami-Dade Cultural Arts Center. The modern, multivenue structure, with its topnotch lighting and sound grid, has been a veritable godsend for a company that had been gypsying around lesser, temporary venues for years. Moreover, for the first time in many seasons, artistic director Ricky J. Martinez selected a group of plays that was powerful and cohesive, which included familiar classics and world premieres that nonetheless seemed to converse with one another. A theme of intolerance connected powerful works such as The Cuban Spring, Vanessa Garcia’s exploration of the generational divide of Cubans and Cuban-Americans; The Gospel According to Jerry, a two-hander about the unlikely relationship between a rabbi and a gospel singer; Twelve Angry Men, a production that still found new avenues to explore in this vintage drama; and Women Playing Hamlet, which took a comic look at gender bias through the prism of classical acting. There wasn’t a clunker among them, with Martinez’s directorial work never seeming so consistently accomplished.

Readers’ choice: Adrienne Arsht Center for the Performing Arts

David Arisco was the driving force behind Murder Ballad, a killer off-Broadway musical at Actors’ Playhouse, and that alone is enough to earn him this award. He doubled as the show’s immaculate choreographer, placing people in carnal couplings and tragic duels atop bars and pool tables and even among the audience itself. His vision captured both the excitement and melancholy of the source material, and it set a new benchmark for immersive South Florida theater. His successful track record as a virtuoso director of musicals carried over to other Actors’ Playhouse shows this season as well: His outsize vision brought the Zeitgeist-capturing period musical Ragtime to vivid life, juggling a cast of more than 40 professional actors in the company’s largest undertaking ever. Nothing was lost in translation except for a portion of the song lyrics — victims of a sound grid in disrepair. Arisco promptly fixed this issue with a digital soundboard for his next effort, First Date, a mediocre if relatable musical about the awkward pairing of two young singles. His immaculate direction emphasized the humor and humanity of the words and lyrics, polishing an average stone into something like a diamond.

Andy Quiroga is one of our dependably elastic character actors, excelling in invariably smallish parts such as the homoerotic hustler in Mangrove Creative Collective’s Paradise Motel and the volcanic father in Alliance Theatre Lab’s Off Center of Nowhere. But this year’s Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune provided him with the meatiest role he’s enjoyed in years, a riveting reminder he has the magnetism to carry a show. In the rebranded Alliance Theatre’s comeback show, written by Terrence McNally, he played Johnny, the male part of a one-night stand that might become something more, if only the lonely waitress would just acquiesce to his plans for their future. Quiroga displayed a rare and, for this role, necessary ability to act creepy and sincere at the same time. At various points in the play’s two extended acts, he was as clingy as plastic wrap, as chivalrous as a knight, and as emotionally naked as a support-group member. Until the very end, we didn’t know exactly what to think of him, which means he was doing his job exactly right.

Henry David Thoreau, the original hipster, famously wrote that “the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” Occasionally, a performance will so accurately convey that axiom that it’s almost uncomfortable to witness. Chaz Mena accomplished this feat in Zoetic Stage’s Detroit at the Arsht Center. He found the quiet desperation in Ben, an unemployed husband of Anytown suburbia who was perennially building a financial website that never materialized, watching NASCAR programs on max volume in a zombified stupor, and staring a few beats too long at his younger, blonder, always underdressed new neighbor. No matter what the script dictated for Mena, from cooking real meat onstage to nearly breaking his leg on his neighbors’ unfinished porch, he never lost that hard-wired sense of existential malaise that we call the midlife crisis. And when he unveiled a game-changing secret in the play’s discomfiting, climactic bacchanal, the result was both hilarious and heartbreaking. Detroit may have been an equal-opportunity ensemble piece, but Mena took the reins and stole the show.

Honestly, this one is a dead heat between two unforgettable, back-to-back GableStage standouts: Angie Radosh’s intolerant, grieving mother in Mothers and Sons, and Natalia Coego’s untethered id of Judaism in Bad Jews. In the interest of variety — Radosh, after all, has become the Meryl Streep of South Florida theater — this award goes to the upstart Coego, a still-unfamiliar face on Miami stages, whose performance as the devout, delusional, and argumentative Daphna Feygenbaum felt transmitted from somewhere else, like a divided synagogue in Williamsburg or a Tel Aviv café on an election eve. Wearing a frazzled nest of hair and peppering her performance with subtly condescending body language, Coego spewed judgmental proclamations and insults that spilled forth with an inextinguishable velocity and impact, disproving the old adage about sticks and stones. Words can indeed hurt, to the point of severing families with the sort of permanence only religion can provide.

GableStage director Joseph Adler has a knack for spotting talent before anybody else and then casting that talent in roles that seem both introductory and definitive. For evidence, look at Betsy Graver (Blasted and Farragut North), Ryan Didato (Red), and this year’s Best Actress winner, Natalia Coego (Bad Jews). Arielle Hoffman continued this tradition with her stunningly acrid, marvelously lived-in performance as Ellie, the 17-year-old estranged daughter of a morbidly obese English professor in The Whale. Hoffman more than held her own with Gregg Weiner, one of the heavyweights — literally, in this case — of South Florida theater, playing off his character’s 11th-hour bonding overtures with a kind of pitiless contempt that must have been challenging to summon. She embodied the modern jaded teenager with brutal authenticity, right down to her gestures, gait, and posture. And when Weiner finally pierced her armor of long-simmering anger and condescension, it was understated and beautiful, one of the most moving theatrical moments of the past year.

There are plenty of reasons Actors’ Playhouse’s Murder Ballad was the best musical of the year, including a stunningly reimagined set design, outstanding musical direction, and superb lighting. But without a cast that could perfectly translate the show’s whirlwind of lust, death, longing, and mordant humor, it would have been all for naught. And this quartet of actors was so exceptional that they should take this production on tour. Chris Crawford brought seething rage and sexual inhibition to his Manhattan bartender, Blythe Gruda convincingly portrayed a young woman torn between domestic security and forbidden pleasure, and Mark Sanders made plausible the tragedy of his spurned lover and the dawning acceptance that violence is his only recourse. Mariand Torres kept these wild egos and libidos in check as the narrator, a goth-chic barkeep whose dark sense of mirth cut everybody down to size. Collectively, they were like the four panes of a window into the complicated human heart — broken though it may be.

The script of Peter and the Starcatcher — the high-seas coming-of-age prequel to Peter Pan — left much to be desired. But the Arsht Center’s production was as inventive as the story was overplotted, conceiving an imaginative land of danger and wonder. Its witty lighting and transportive sound design had a lot to do with the play’s atmospheric vision, but at the center of it all stood the mammoth set by Yoshinori Tanokura, which actor Nicholas Richberg compared to “a big jungle gym playground.” With its twin balconies and elevated breezeway, its many ropes and stepladders and nautical props, Tanokura’s vision for the deck of a rickety cargo ship was infused with an architect’s visionary quirks as well as a mariner’s splendor. More important, it was as functional as it was ruggedly attractive, because it required the actors to scamper around it at all times. The Arsht was the first regional theater in the nation to produce Peter and the Starcatcher, and future companies would be wise to follow Tanokura’s example.

If you ever skip services for drag brunch at the Palace on Sundays, Tiffany Taylor Fantasia will still take you to church. A mainstay of the South Beach drag scene and a Miami native, Fantasia is old-school drag entertainment at its finest. Whether she’s serving disco diva, glamor doll, or gospel granny, she’s sure to give it her all. We once saw her kick her shoe off in the middle of a performance, and it never came back down (it wound up on the restaurant’s awning). Legend has it she once threw her wig off during a performance, and it wound up being snatched by a passing car that never stopped. Whenever she gives a performance — whether on the main stage at Miami Beach Pride, during charity events, at a pageant, or at her regular stomping grounds off Ocean Drive — she never holds back. Catch her every week during her hosting gig at the Palace Wednesday and Saturday night.

twitter.com/tiffanyfantasia

Orlando Leyba is the voice of the Miami Everyman, and anyone who knows an Everyman in Miami should already know that’s a pretty solid bedrock for a comedy act. A married man who until recently was stuck in a dead-end 9-to-5, Leyba took his stories of domestic quibbles, office blues, and general life in South Florida to the stage, with hilarious results. In fact, he’s now taken his act across the country and is a regular opening act for comedian Michael Yo. “Hey, Lando, we’re trying to make this quota, and I’m going to need you to give me 110 percent this week,” Leyba often says onstage while mimicking his old boss. “Relax, buddy — I wasted 50 percent talking myself into just coming here,” he quips. Luckily for audiences, it never seems like Leyba has to talk himself into getting onstage, where he always gives 110 percent.

heylando.com

In the heart of Little Havana, amid the art galleries and the cigar rollers, is a quiet dance studio that’s been teaching some of Miami’s finest bailarines for more than a decade. Brigid Baker created the 6th Street Dance Studio as a space where dancers and artists can break down the usual barriers of traditional contemporary dance. The enormous studio, with its luminous floor-to-ceiling windows, is inspiration enough to take a class. And Baker, a New York transplant who has studied under the likes of Martha Graham and Merce Cunningham, is truly a jack-of-all-trades: She even created a style she calls “lightbody,” a fusion of ballet with quantum physics and holistic perspectives. Whether you’re a serious dancer or simply interested in moving your body in new ways, lightbody classes force you out of your shell and into an exploratory realm of motion. The studio also offers contemporary ballet and urban dance classes and on occasion hosts guest artists.

The Coconut Grove Arts Festival has been a part of Grove culture for 52 years. Fifty-two. CGAF, as it is charmingly called, is beloved by Coconut Grove residents and tourists alike. The festival takes place every year in February, when it spills over McFarlane Road, South Bayshore Drive, and Pan American Drive. Bringing together all aspects of the arts — music, literature, artwork, handmade crafts, and even food — CGAF is designed to entertain all ages. And this past year, New Times organized the fest’s music showcase, which, well, rocked. (We know, modesty is one of New Times‘ strong suits.) The dates for CGAF 2016 have already been announced: February 13, 14, and 15. Where else can you get so much entertainment for so little ($15 per day)?

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Readers’ choice: Art Basel Miami Beach

Miami summers are pretty disgusting. Walk outside from June to September and you instantly feel like some invisible giant dumped a damp, warm mop on your head. No amount of showering can rid you of the feeling that you’re a sweaty, stinky mess. Then there’s the constant threat of a killer hurricane that never comes — the tropical version of the Cold War. Miami turns into a no man’s land, with only mad dogs and tourists going out in the scorching midday sun. There’s only one thing to do: Seek shelter inside one of the Magic City’s air-conditioned restaurants. Luckily, Miami Spice, the Greater Miami Convention & Visitors Bureau’s way of preventing a mass exodus to cooler destinations like Asheville (or Anchorage), is implemented, much like an emergency nonevacuation system. The program, which runs from August 1 through September 30, allows you to chow down on three-course lunches for $23 and dinners for $39 at some of Miami’s schmanciest restaurants, such as Hakkasan, Azul, and the Cypress Room. These are places that cost hundreds of dollars for dinner any other time of the year, but you, a savvy yet broke gourmand, get to enjoy these top critics’ picks for pennies on the dollar. Coupled with the fact that some of these restaurants are booked solid in season, this is one helluva deal. Wonder how you’ll get through July? Just peruse the menus of the restaurants where you want to dine — in the comfort of your refrigerator.

ilovemiamispice.com

“Irregardless,” Aimee Carrero drawls, her head and torso wrapped in towels, her wrists covered in gaudy bracelets, her long nails lacquered, “I don’t care.” No sketch better encapsulates the stereotypical Miami girl. The proof is in the more than 2 million views Carrero and her crew earned for the equally brilliant video surrounding that sublime moment — the viral hit “Shit Miami Girls Say.” That clip may have been most South Floridians’ introduction to Carrero, a 26-year-old Dominican-born, Miami-raised actress, but she’s spent the past two years proving that her chops go way beyond perfecting a Dade County accent. Carrero broke into the biz with guest spots on shows such as The Mentalist and Hannah Montana before turning heads with a four-episode run on arguably the best drama on TV these days, The Americans. Now she’s poised to blow up. While doing a regular gig on ABC Family’s Young & Hungry, she’ll star alongside Vin Diesel in a popcorn-time, big-screen thriller later this summer, The Last Witch Hunter. And in 2016, she’ll break barriers as the voice of Disney’s first Hispanic princess on the TV show Elena of Avalor. You may not have joined the cult of Carrero yet, but it’s basically inevitable.

twitter.com/aimeecarrero

Rapper Iggy Azalea may be Australian by birth, but when she moved to the States at the age of 16, she lived in Miami first. The Magic City influenced her Southern hip-hop sound, and ever since she rapped the lyrics “No money, no family. Sixteen in the middle of Miami,” we’ve been claiming her as a local. Iggy made it big in 2014 when The New Classic climbed to the top of the charts. The album produced five hit singles and garnered a Grammy nomination for Best Rap Album, but the rapper has been a lightening rod of controversy. In a single year, Iggy has had beefs with Nicki Minaj, Snoop Dogg, and Madd Mary. Then there was the time when rapper Azealia Banks, herself no stranger to controversy, accused Iggy of appropriating black culture, a criticism that many music critics had already leveled at the white rapper’s faux-accent and persistent unwillingness to acknowledge that rap was built on the experiences of impoverished minorities. But Iggy dug in her heels and insisted she’s “the realest.” If one thing got Azalea angry this year, it wasn’t other rappers calling her out; it was Papa John’s. On the heels of losing the Grammy, Iggy took to Twitter to blast the pizza chain for its business ethics and lack of respect for customers’ personal information. Not long after, Iggy quit Twitter (but eventually returned). Despite her bumpy year, Iggy continues to churn out hits. That’s because she’s the “realest.”

iggyazalea.com

Usain Bolt better not look back — Jamal Walton is gaining on him. Walton, a 16-year-old who runs for the track club Miami Gardens Xpress, has broken Bolt’s records in the 400-meter dash. A student at Saint Thomas Aquinas High, Walton is from the Cayman Islands and has already competed both nationally and internationally. He ran about 47 seconds to best Bolt’s under-16 record at the CAC World Youth Championships in Mexico and the Jamaican champ’s under-17 mark with a similar time at the CARIFTA Games. “He floats,” says Xpress coach Darius Lawshea.

twitter.com/jamalwalton43

This Miami Dolphins linebacker may yet save his career. But after a third NFL substance-abuse violation, the University of Oregon grad was banned for the entire 2015 season. The Fins chose him third overall in 2013 and handed over to the Raiders the 12th and 42nd picks. What have the Dolphins gotten for it? Forty-six tackles, three sacks, and one start in two seasons.

Miami Mayor Tomás Regalado’s stentorian bass echoed from radios around Miami last summer. Speaking confidently in Spanish, the ex-radio journalist made a simple promise about a contentious upcoming vote on whether to let a developer erect a massive, paper-clip-shaped tower overlooking Biscayne Bay: “Taxpayers win without putting in a cent.” The ads carried the day. Voters approved the tower, and then, in October, the truth emerged: Taxpayers would be putting in a lot more than a cent. In fact, they’re on the hook for about $9 million in subsidies for the project. What gives, Tomás? The mayor quickly backtracked after the news broke: The subsidies would come from county taxes, he said, and he was never told that the developer had hit up the county for money. But then again, the city’s mayor apparently never asked. That left him with only two options to explain to voters: Either he didn’t understand a deal he backed in radio ads, or he lied.

Most politicians don’t shine smack in the middle of a racist Twitter scandal. But then again, state Sen. Dwight Bullard isn’t like most politicians. True, he was born into the political game — his father, Edward, was a state rep from 2000 to 2008, and his mother, Larcenia, served in the state house from 1999 to 2002 and then in the senate until 2012, when he won her seat. But Bullard has always been a blunt-speaking guy. That trait may come from his true profession: He’s a no-nonsense teacher at Coral Reef Senior High School. That’s why, when he ascended to the head of the Miami-Dade Democratic Party last year, he didn’t tiptoe around his views on marijuana reform. He backed full-on legalization for recreational use. And in the session this year, he filed a bill that did just that. The GOP didn’t let that legislation go anywhere, but Bullard played a leading role in the debate over faulty high-school testing reforms and in Ferguson protests in Miami. Then there was that racist tweet. It came from Republican Rep. Matt Gaetz, who made fun of a typo in a Democratic lawsuit by suggesting Bullard and another veteran black senator, Arthenia Joyner, were to blame — even though many white senators played far more visible roles in the piece. Bullard responded to Gaetz’s remark by calmly dismantling it: “Drafted by a former bar association Pres and civil rights icon,” he tweeted, referring to Joyner, “and spell checked by a HS teacher #winning.” Winning, indeed.

Miami has a constant supply of people scheming to gain money and social status at whatever cost. Most of them fail and go back to wherever they came from, but when they succeed, they almost certainly see their apocryphal accomplishment burn down in a blaze of shame. But few have as much gall as Haider Zafar. The man hustled three Miami Heat players out of hoards of cash and scammed the team into giving him a three-season luxury ticket package to Heat games worth $1 million. To pull off the scheme, Zafar posed as a member of a wealthy Pakistani family and cultivated connections with the Heat front office by pretending to be able to afford the pricey ticket package. He then used those connections to meet Mike Miller, James Jones, and Rashard Lewis. Zafar promised he would investment millions to support the players’ business deals but said the money was tied up overseas. He also offered investment opportunities but gave the players only days to decide. He ended up bilking a combined $7.5 million out of the players, never invested money in the their businesses, and never paid for those tickets. He’ll now spend the next six years not at Heat games but behind bars.

Journalists’ inboxes are filled with generic news releases from faceless PR reps who couldn’t give a damn about the city or what they’re shilling. That isn’t Jessica Wade Pfeffer. She doesn’t rely on no-name emails BCC’ed to everyone in town. Pfeffer does the unthinkable: She reads reporters’ stories and sends them descriptions of events they might actually be interested in covering. Her personal touch is a bit surprising in the era of carbon-copied emails, and that’s likely why Pfeffer has been so successful, earning high-profile clients such as the Miami Dade College Miami International Film Festival, New World Symphony, and the Miami Dance Festival. Pfeffer is smart and enthusiastic about her clients — and it shows in her work.

jessicawadeinc.com

Overtown, Miami’s original black neighborhood, has withstood a lot of strife: segregation, riots, violence, poverty. And soon its residents may have to endure the torture of a 633-foot, contoured LED billboard tower so bright it would practically be visible from Fort Lauderdale. Some activists have called the colossal, three-faced Miami Innovation Tower, planned for 1031 NW First Ave., “one of the worst projects ever proposed in Miami-Dade County” and “the most visually ugly structure in the state of Florida.” But developer Michael Simkins really doesn’t care. Simkins is a Miami Beach guy with a slick haircut and a fat wallet. He’s a native-born power player — with an equally influential wife — who runs the $100-million-plus conglomerate Lion Associates. His light-bulb skyscraper would be the centerpiece of a four-block technology district that includes an observation tower, three-floor restaurant, and amphitheater. On the exterior, five billboards would cover an area of two acres, and Simkins argues the whole thing will boost Miami’s global brand and Overtown’s economy. He argues existing zoning says he can do it. With his millions and his vision, Simkins is about to remake one of Miami’s poorest areas into something closer to Las Vegas. Go ahead and try to stop him.

Staring down solemnly from his high perch above his federal courtroom in downtown Miami, Judge Darrin P. Gayles looked a steroid dealer in the eye and let him have it. “One can only imagine the horror of a parent who was unwittingly taking their child to Tony Bosch for what they believed was licensed treatments by a legitimate medical professional,” Gayles said, “and then watching Bosch doing courses of treatment without any legitimate cause, watching him use syringes to conduct medicine he was not licensed to practice, while we now know Tony Bosch was often under the influence of cocaine.” Hearing those harsh words, Bosch — the mastermind behind Biogenesis, the Coral Gables clinic that sold roids to scores of Major League Baseball players as well as at least 18 high-schoolers — knew he was cooked. After pleading guilty to steroid charges, he’d asked the judge for leniency for helping prosecutors indict six of his cohorts. But Gayles was having none of it. He followed that blistering takedown with the announcement of Bosch’s sentence: a startling four years in federal prison. Bosch wept.

In years past, our best power couples have been rolling in money. After all, cash and influence are synonymous in this town. But this year’s couple, Lizette Alvarez and Don Van Natta Jr., have a different kind of capital — the cultural kind. These two writers have long histories in Miami. Both are former Miami Herald reporters who went on to greater things. They spent time in London and Washington. They brought home amazing awards and covered subjects such as Rupert Murdoch, Monica Lewinsky, and Congress. They wrote books. They conceived amazing kids. Yet they’ve never been pretentious or haughty. They’re the kind of people everybody should meet. These days, Alvarez is the Miami bureau chief for the New York Times. And Van Natta works for ESPN while hatching ideas for volumes that continually fascinate the masses and nail the Zeitgeist. Their names will never grace a tony private art collection, but power isn’t something that can always be measured in Matisses or Picassos.

There’s just no baloney about Katy Sorenson. The founder, president, and CEO of the Good Government Initiative at the University of Miami is a straightforward lady from the Midwest. When she served for 16 years on the Miami-Dade County Commission, she was always a voice for reason, leading the charge against a silly airport planned between the Everglades and Biscayne National Park, then pushing an equal-rights ordinance that gave status to gays and lesbians in our community. She never succumbed to the temptations of the office, as have so many on that dais. Now, in her role as government watchdog, she has continued to stand up for what’s right and to educate leaders. “The Good Government Initiative is committed to conducting its affairs and activities with the highest standards of ethical conduct,” the website reads. We can’t think of a better person to keep our leaders on the straight and narrow.

goodgov.net

A place exists in Homestead where you can feed kangaroos, play with foxes, and pose next to peacocks. No, it isn’t some sort of mystical wonderland in the middle of the Everglades. It’s Safari Edventure. With more than 120 exotic species and 200-plus animals onsite, Homestead’s secret gem has been a wildlife haven for almost 40 years. That’s because nearly every animal you’ll encounter belongs to one of three categories, the three “Rs” — rescued, re-homed, or rehabilitated. The five-acre outdoor oasis is all about delivering “hands-on nature and wildlife presentations.” Sure, learning about sloths, fruit bats, lemurs, and alligators is interesting and all, but the real fun begins once the discussion ends — that’s when you get to pretend you’re on Animal Planet and touch the creatures yourself. When its time to feed the kangaroos and frolic with the foxes, you’ll definitely feel like a real-life Crocodile Dundee. Safari Edventure ($12 admission for Florida residents, $9 for kids and seniors) is closed Monday and Tuesday, so if you want to make all of your wildlife dreams come true, head south any other day of the week from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.

What type are you? Are you the Paranoid Stoner, always convinced the last toke will bring you closer to Satan? Or are you the Teenage Stoner, talking up your homemade honey-bear bong and sad sage stash? Maybe you’re the Chronic Connoisseur, a wake-and-bake badass meticulous about strains and rituals. Wherever you land on the spectrum, there’s a wondrous place that welcomes doobie bros of all kinds: Santa’s Enchanted Forest. Let’s start with the name. Santa: Jolly. Enchanted: It’s magical. Forest: Trees are the best. In short, it’s a pothead’s paradise — an amusement park snow-blasted with Christmas cheer in the middle of the tropics from late October till early January every year. Walking under the giant, rosy-cheeked Saint Nick sign, you’re greeted by an archway of lights, the first of many twinkling displays that make your bloodshot eyes widen with delight. What follows is a huge Christmas tree, whose bright decor flickers in sync with Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Don’t hate — it’s awesome. Perhaps most important, the Forest will feed your munchies. You’ll find chicharrones, fries, funnel cakes, coladas, arepas, fried Oreos, and other treats. And for the more active stoner, Santa’s Enchanted Forest has games and fun rides like roller coasters, bumper cars, and a Ferris wheel perfect for lighting that hidden joint high in the air. At $30 per person, with no separate ride tickets required, the Forest is an affordable must for the happy, blazed kid in us all.

santasenchantedforest.com

Hooking up with a tourist is a time-honored tradition for single people in Miami. And perhaps the best place to snag a sidepiece or a European friend is SoBe Hostel. The trendy Washington Avenue location is pretty nice (even for a hostel). The main floor houses the Hangout, a laid-back bar that’s open to anyone. It’s a nice change from the uhntz-uhntz-pumping tourist-centric bars and clubs, making it easier for you to impress visitors with your local knowledge. And prices are amazing for a South Beach location. Mixed drinks like Cuba Libres and the bar’s take on the mojito cost about $6, and during happy hour, domestic beer goes for as low as two for $4. You can also order ceviche from the restaurant next door and have it delivered right to the bar. If you’re not much of a conversationalist, you can impress with your Monopoly or Xbox skills.

Hot dudes read books. It’s a universal truth. In New York City, there’s even an Instagram account devoted to sexy scholars: @hotdudesreading, which has lured more than 500,000 horny followers to its shots of men lost in books on the subway. Miami book lovers, of course, don’t have NYC-level public transit for their perving pleasure. But one month every year (or so), they have something better: O, Miami. The festival, which aims to expose every single person to at least one poem in April, brings out the finest specimens of word nerd during its run. And they’re not just sitting around with their noses in books like those subway riders up north. They’re nodding their intelligent heads at poetry readings. They’re getting drunk and writing verse at Gramps. At this year’s festival, O, Miami invited them to bring their adorable puppies to Collins Park to shop and swap books. Did you hear that? That was the sound of a city’s worth of panties dropping. Eat your heart out, New Yorkers.

omiami.org

National cycling studio SoulCycle has been making waves in the past few years, garnering a dedicated following among Hollywood A-listers like Madonna, Posh and Becks, Lady Gaga, and Bradley Cooper. When SoulCycle opened in Miami this past January, women flocked to the studio. Though the classes are coed, the place is crawling with females attracted to the high-energy atmosphere and the hope that SoulCycle’s signature 45-minute, amped-up cycling classes can endow them with a body like Charlize Theron’s. The environment here should be familiar to any Miamian on the lookout for single ladies: toned bodies, sweat, spandex, and thumping music. The place is practically LIV sans alcohol. Prices are $30 per class, $145 for five classes, and $280 for ten. The studio validates for three hours of parking, so there’s ample time to linger in Merrick Park after you’ve impressed her with your cycling skills.

If you’re looking for a no-strings-attached kind of fling, Miami has plenty of options. But if you’re tired of that routine and are looking to hold an actual conversation away from the nightclub tables and loud music, pop into a CreativeMornings event. Sessions happen all over the world, but Miami has its own chapter. Each monthly talk begins at 8:30 a.m. — intelligent people know better than to waste their mornings — with breakfast, followed by a presentation and Q&A with an invited speaker. Guests have included O, Miami’s P. Scott Cunningham, developer Avra Jain, author Vanessa Garcia, and BioHeart CEO Mike Tomás. After 40 minutes, you’re free to mix, mingle, and network with everyone in attendance. Though we don’t recommend using your cheesy lines on the women at CreativeMornings, being funny and engaging goes a long way. Even if you don’t find Ms. Right, you’re bound to at least forge friendships with some of the most ambitious people in the city.

Various locations; creativemornings.com/cities/mia

Just because Miami is obsessed with online dating doesn’t mean chivalry is dead. If you’ve made it past the messaging-and-emoji stage and are looking for that memorable spot where you’ll have your first face-to-face encounter with Mr. or Ms. Right, South Pointe Park is the place. No, you won’t be dining at Smith & Wollensky — that’s definitely trying too hard on a first date — you’ll be rollerblading your way up and down the South Pointe sidewalk, from the Miami Beach Marina to the South Pointe Pier. With the sunset as your backdrop and the ocean breeze blowing through your hair, you just may be compelled to grab that special someone’s hand. Sure, it’ll likely be to prevent yourself from falling flat on your face, but hey, it’s a romantic gesture anyway. Then you’ll want to slow things down a bit and have some one-on-one time. Conveniently, South Pointe has plenty of areas where you can sit and lay the mack. If you play your cards right (and if fate permits, of course), you’ll end the night making plans for date two. Maybe then you can give Smith & Wollensky a shot.

When you’re entertaining tourists in Miami, it can seem like an endless parade of beaches, shopping, bars, and clubs. Aren’t you tired of traipsing up and down Lincoln Road or posing in front of Wynwood Walls? Why not show your next guests the best of “weird” Miami and take them to Stiltsville, that random outpost of wood houses built on Biscayne Bay. You can tell them all about how Crawfish Eddie built the first stilt house and how others quickly followed suit. Or you can describe how Stiltsville was dubbed Party Central in the late 1950s, when Miami’s well-to-do would escape dry land to spend the weekend drinking and dallying in other vices. Today only seven stilt houses are left standing, thanks to a couple of catastrophic hurricanes, but the ones remaining are remarkably eerie and worth the trip. Sure, you need a boat to get there, but there’s nothing more curious than Stiltsville.

Readers’ choice: Wynwood Walls

Some of the most prime real estate on the planet is occupied by a handful of stalls and urinals inside an unassuming white structure in the sand. The public restroom facilities at Tenth Street in Lummus Park aren’t state-of-the-art, but they are relatively new, serviceably clean, and spacious enough that lines (even for the women’s) usually aren’t out of control. But what really makes these restrooms priceless is their location: There’s no hotter place to be than Lummus Park, in the heart of South Beach. And after a blissful few hours of soaking up SoBe’s world-famous sun and fun in its most iconic spot — and probably drinking more than three ounces of something — you’ll need a restroom. It’s right there, answering your desperate cries. Forget about coughing up $20 for an unremarkable shrimp salad as an excuse to visit a nearby restaurant’s porcelain. Thanks to the Tenth Street facility, you barely have to leave your lounge chair.

Readers’ choice: Pérez Art Museum Miami

Miamians love to rant about the 23-mile concrete ribbon snaking above the city — the seemingly random placement of stations, the lack of east-west transport. From Medley to Kendall, there are 23 Metrorail stations, and since Brickell Station opened February 10, 1984, it’s been a crowd favorite. Miami-Dade Transit estimates 8,430 boardings there each weekday. It’s situated in the city’s hub of finance and business, linked directly to the Metromover. Outside the turnstiles, buses to Little Havana, Key Biscayne, Coconut Grove, and Wynwood await. Soaring among Brickell’s high-rises, noticeably loftier than the other stops, Brickell Station plays Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony to announce approaching trains. The ominous “dit-dit-dit-dah” sparks quick smiles, even among the city’s most callous commuters.

Amid all the uhntz-uhntz and cosmetic surgery, many seem to forget that the 305 was, in fact, once part of the Deep South. Before Julia Tuttle and our founding fathers established the Magic City, Miami was known as Fort Dallas. Formerly located on the William English Plantation near the Miami River, the fort, which was constructed around 1844, was used as slave quarters by owner William English. English, who is credited as one of the early settlers of the “Village of Miami,” abandoned his plantation during the California Gold Rush. The estate was seized by the U.S. Army during the Second and Third Seminole Wars in 1849 and 1855 and renamed Fort Dallas after U.S. Navy officer Alexander James Dallas. When the wars came to an end, the fort was left uninhabited yet again. The structure served several purposes thereafter. It was a post office, a trading post, and even the Dade County Courthouse. But during the late 19th Century, the original boss lady of Dade, Mrs. Tuttle, purchased the property and used it as a storage unit. In 1904, Tuttle’s son renovated the building, adding a porch and center gable. It was later rented out as a single-family home and a tea room. Long ago, plans were announced to demolish Fort Dallas. But thanks to a committee led by the Miami Woman’s Club and the Daughters of the American Revolution in 1925, the structure was relocated to Lummus Park. Today the building is used as the headquarters of the Daughters of the American Revolution. Though not open to the public, Fort Dallas is the only remnant of Miami’s slave and militia past.

Readers’ choice: Vizcaya Museum & Gardens

Miami made national headlines this past March after the raid of Coco Farm, an illegal Doral slaughterhouse straight out of a Saw flick. On the site of the 70-acre farm, workers brutally slaughtered more than 4 million chickens, cows, goats, pigs, and other animals over the course of four decades. Their methods, complete with rusty knives and machetes, were the stuff of nightmares. The heroes behind the record-breaking bust were the agents of Animal Recovery Mission (ARM). ARM is dedicated to ending illegal slaughter, animal sacrifice, bestiality, racehorse abuse, and countless other horrors inflicted upon innocent animals. Its investigators go undercover to collect evidence about deeds so stomach-churning that most decent people can’t even contemplate them. Thanks to the staunch bravery of these ARM operatives and their police partners, thousands of creatures have gone on to sanctuaries and safe havens nationwide, including 9,000-plus animals from the Coco Farm raid alone. That’s more than 9,000 squawking chickens, rooting pigs, mooing cows, bleating goats, and other precious creatures, each experiencing care and compassion for the first time — all because ARM cares enough to take a stand. Imagine if everyone did this.

animalrecoverymission.org

Whether you’re a college student, a freelancer, or unemployed and living some in-between life stage, odds are you’re dying to get out of the house and find a good spot to get work done. At Pasión del Cielo, you don’t have to feel like a burden for taking up couch space for hours on end. It’s expected that this coffee shop’s customers are coming by to get their study on. Here’s the lowdown on your new office: Fast and free Wi-Fi: check. Diverse coffee bean selection (from Hawaiian to Ethiopian) to keep you wired: check. Early and late hours: check. Friendly baristas who’ll feel like your lifeline when you’re drowning in work, the right type of music to keep you motivated throughout the day, and a welcoming but focused environment: check, check and check. Pasión del Cielo has three Miami-Dade locations (Coral Gables, downtown Dadeland, and midtown Miami) and three set to open soon (the Falls, South Beach, and Doral). Downtown Dadeland is the best work spot, though, because it’s spacious and the first three hours in the parking garage are free.