If you happen to be a buffed Crunch regular with fashion-model modalities, score is exactly what you'll do here. The beauty of this ten-month-old Lincoln Road hot spot, however, is the fact that there's plenty of room for discretion. Even celibacy. With its mix of wildly varied theme nights and block parties, Score-ing's fun for everyone: boys, girls, doms, subs, butches, femmes, drag queens, autos, and yes, even heteros. With standard SoBe techno/house and standard SoBe beauty boys, Score manages to create a neighborly atmosphere in the cold and elitist South Beach scene. Regulars and staff are on a first-name basis. And if size matters, don't be deceived by outward appearances. Although barely noticeable from the street, the club takes on John Holmesian proportions inside. An anteroom is dominated by a large circular bar with stools for those who simply want to sit and drink. The side wall and windows looking out on Lincoln Road are lined by comfy sofas, plus chairs and tables for the lounge crowd. The next room, which features two more bars and a sunken dance floor, is for cruising, perusing, and dancing only. From an upstairs area one can peer at the light-tripping orgy below, or shoot a game of pool. It doesn't end there. Upstairs there's yet another back room with bar, this one surprisingly well-lighted. We suggest taking prospective one-night-stands there before deciding whether to take them home.
Score Nightclub
Chris Carter
If you happen to be a buffed Crunch regular with fashion-model modalities, score is exactly what you'll do here. The beauty of this ten-month-old Lincoln Road hot spot, however, is the fact that there's plenty of room for discretion. Even celibacy. With its mix of wildly varied theme nights and block parties, Score-ing's fun for everyone: boys, girls, doms, subs, butches, femmes, drag queens, autos, and yes, even heteros. With standard SoBe techno/house and standard SoBe beauty boys, Score manages to create a neighborly atmosphere in the cold and elitist South Beach scene. Regulars and staff are on a first-name basis. And if size matters, don't be deceived by outward appearances. Although barely noticeable from the street, the club takes on John Holmesian proportions inside. An anteroom is dominated by a large circular bar with stools for those who simply want to sit and drink. The side wall and windows looking out on Lincoln Road are lined by comfy sofas, plus chairs and tables for the lounge crowd. The next room, which features two more bars and a sunken dance floor, is for cruising, perusing, and dancing only. From an upstairs area one can peer at the light-tripping orgy below, or shoot a game of pool. It doesn't end there. Upstairs there's yet another back room with bar, this one surprisingly well-lighted. We suggest taking prospective one-night-stands there before deciding whether to take them home.
Dolphins coach Jimmy Johnson has a careerlong knack for assembling winning organizations, though paradoxically they often choke on game day. But you can't lose visiting the coach's beachside establishment at the Eden Roc. Whatever your game a pair of big screens and about 25 standard sets ensure an unobstructed view. Monitor the action from a table or barstool on the sprawling outside deck. Or if your head gets too hot -- like Jimmy's sometimes does -- situate yourself in the air-conditioned, windowy rooms inside. A fairly new entrance from the public parking lot just north of the hotel allows you to dodge the valet system. (If you wanted to spend a fortune parking, you would have gone to Pro Player Stadium.) Happy hour is from 4:00 to 7:00 p.m. Thursday to Sunday and Caribbean-flavor live music follows. Best of all, if you get frustrated with the game, you can just stroll a few steps to the beach and jump in the ocean. There are probably Sundays on the gridiron when Jimmy feels like doing just that.
Dolphins coach Jimmy Johnson has a careerlong knack for assembling winning organizations, though paradoxically they often choke on game day. But you can't lose visiting the coach's beachside establishment at the Eden Roc. Whatever your game a pair of big screens and about 25 standard sets ensure an unobstructed view. Monitor the action from a table or barstool on the sprawling outside deck. Or if your head gets too hot -- like Jimmy's sometimes does -- situate yourself in the air-conditioned, windowy rooms inside. A fairly new entrance from the public parking lot just north of the hotel allows you to dodge the valet system. (If you wanted to spend a fortune parking, you would have gone to Pro Player Stadium.) Happy hour is from 4:00 to 7:00 p.m. Thursday to Sunday and Caribbean-flavor live music follows. Best of all, if you get frustrated with the game, you can just stroll a few steps to the beach and jump in the ocean. There are probably Sundays on the gridiron when Jimmy feels like doing just that.
Sounds like a vaudeville team, but this spot actually stocks hundreds of cigars imported from the Canary Islands. And it's a cool, high-ceilinged, relaxing place in which to puff away. But the number of folks actually smoking seems to be dwindling these days. Good thing Condal & Peñamil mixes a sweet-tart sangría and serves a pleasant, if pricey, cheese platter. The staff's hospitality -- and this is South Beach -- cannot be questioned, nor the proximity of the outdoor tables to the action on Lincoln Road. When the cigar trend finally dies, Condal & Peñamil should survive. Then we can only hope swing dancing goes the way of the stogie.
Sounds like a vaudeville team, but this spot actually stocks hundreds of cigars imported from the Canary Islands. And it's a cool, high-ceilinged, relaxing place in which to puff away. But the number of folks actually smoking seems to be dwindling these days. Good thing Condal & Peñamil mixes a sweet-tart sangría and serves a pleasant, if pricey, cheese platter. The staff's hospitality -- and this is South Beach -- cannot be questioned, nor the proximity of the outdoor tables to the action on Lincoln Road. When the cigar trend finally dies, Condal & Peñamil should survive. Then we can only hope swing dancing goes the way of the stogie.
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo. Welcome to homeboy heaven. You've seen the cars with low-profile tires and booming bass rolling from Hialeah and Kendall to South Beach. You've seen the cars' passengers with pants drooping off their butts while their gold fronts glitter through defiant smirks. Cream is the ultimate destination of all those young yo-yos. The only thing that outweighs the testosterone in this joint: gold chains. Ain't nothing but a g-thang, dawg.
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo. Welcome to homeboy heaven. You've seen the cars with low-profile tires and booming bass rolling from Hialeah and Kendall to South Beach. You've seen the cars' passengers with pants drooping off their butts while their gold fronts glitter through defiant smirks. Cream is the ultimate destination of all those young yo-yos. The only thing that outweighs the testosterone in this joint: gold chains. Ain't nothing but a g-thang, dawg.
If bar food everywhere was as good as it is at Tobacco Road, beer drinkers would be even fatter than they already are. The Road slings the nonliquid staples: burgers, nachos, chili, French fries, wings. Except everything is done to chin-wiping excess. Prime example: four kinds of burgers with names (Death, Mega) that convey a Mad Max spirit of gluttony. There are two types of fries and five ways to order a chicken sandwich. Appetizers drop to discount rates during happy hour (5:00 to 7:00 p.m.). After midnight when one needs extra party fuel, the prices on the big-ticket items (T-bone steak, rib eye sandwich, filet mignon) dip to six bucks. But what truly makes the Road's food the finest around are the weekday specials. What other bar offers (beginning on Monday and running until Thursday) perfectly prepared rack of lamb, lobster, spaghetti with meatballs, and steak, each under ten bucks? Combine an abundance of munchables with kicking live music and a superb selection of libations and that swelling gut seems a small price to pay.

Tobacco Road
If bar food everywhere was as good as it is at Tobacco Road, beer drinkers would be even fatter than they already are. The Road slings the nonliquid staples: burgers, nachos, chili, French fries, wings. Except everything is done to chin-wiping excess. Prime example: four kinds of burgers with names (Death, Mega) that convey a Mad Max spirit of gluttony. There are two types of fries and five ways to order a chicken sandwich. Appetizers drop to discount rates during happy hour (5:00 to 7:00 p.m.). After midnight when one needs extra party fuel, the prices on the big-ticket items (T-bone steak, rib eye sandwich, filet mignon) dip to six bucks. But what truly makes the Road's food the finest around are the weekday specials. What other bar offers (beginning on Monday and running until Thursday) perfectly prepared rack of lamb, lobster, spaghetti with meatballs, and steak, each under ten bucks? Combine an abundance of munchables with kicking live music and a superb selection of libations and that swelling gut seems a small price to pay.

Best Of Miami®

Best Of Miami®