BEST BIKER BAR 2004 | Redlands Tavern | Best Restaurants, Bars, Clubs, Music and Stores in Miami | Miami New Times
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More country than rock, Redlands Tavern sports a totally relaxed atmosphere and abundant "Bikers Welcome" signage. Dread not ye Toyota drivers, the earthy elbow benders here are of the cowboy hats and "howdy ma'am" school rather than the tattoo-painted, swastika-emblazoned, leather-jacket gang. Nonetheless you'll see motorcycles parked next to the hitching post labeled "horse parking." (On the subject of tradition: The South Dade area is officially known as the Redland, but anyone who grew up in Miami, or even lived here a decade or two, calls it the Redlands.) Inside you'll find the mandatory pool tables, decent bar food, and a rare emphasis on the "South" in "South Florida." If you're looking for some brawlin', look elsewhere. But if you're looking for a place that welcomes everybody, whether they run a chopper or ride a horse, or even drive a sedan, Redlands Tavern will provide you a mess of drinking buddies.

Only God knows how this little shithole manages to stay in business. It is truly beyond human cognition. The entrance is an unmarked door hidden between a liquor store and a pawnshop. Misty Blue -- if that is its real name -- has been the target of drug busts and late-night debauchery for years. It's dirty in more ways than one. And if you're drinking here, you most likely have succumbed to the trials and denials that beat down the average person just trying to live a decent life. Down and out, maybe for the count, you might find some poor, sauced-out drunkard standing outside panhandling for money to cop dope. Or are you looking in a mirror? The cops -- hmmm, maybe that's why it's so hard to find the phone number for this dive. Be on the lookout for the countless number of panties that drape over the fat, slovenly bartender even as you glance around for potentially dangerous barflies. As for the panties, be warned of a Blue tradition: Every woman must give up her panties the first time she orders something from the bar. Yeah, hot babes are lined up four deep. Panties uncovered as a cover: Now that's classy.

Only God knows how this little shithole manages to stay in business. It is truly beyond human cognition. The entrance is an unmarked door hidden between a liquor store and a pawnshop. Misty Blue -- if that is its real name -- has been the target of drug busts and late-night debauchery for years. It's dirty in more ways than one. And if you're drinking here, you most likely have succumbed to the trials and denials that beat down the average person just trying to live a decent life. Down and out, maybe for the count, you might find some poor, sauced-out drunkard standing outside panhandling for money to cop dope. Or are you looking in a mirror? The cops -- hmmm, maybe that's why it's so hard to find the phone number for this dive. Be on the lookout for the countless number of panties that drape over the fat, slovenly bartender even as you glance around for potentially dangerous barflies. As for the panties, be warned of a Blue tradition: Every woman must give up her panties the first time she orders something from the bar. Yeah, hot babes are lined up four deep. Panties uncovered as a cover: Now that's classy.

The Ritz-Carlton at the intersection of Collins and Lincoln is part of a highly regarded hotel brand that has received rave reviews for its newly designed plush décor. But it's really the DiLido Beach Club out back that has people talking, and partying. Every Sunday afternoon, the DiLido transforms the ocean-view deck into a bustling, St. Tropezian affair that practically spills over with top-shelf models, A-list locals, and celebrities. In other words, it's what Sundays at Nikki Beach used to be. Though the outdoor setting is smaller than Nikki Beach, it features cabanas and couches on full, lush grass (as opposed to beds on the sand). To be fair, the Raleigh Hotel and its accomplished promoters, Tommy Pooch and Ingrid Casares, also have a neat little Sunday thang, but forget competition. There are plenty of big spenders to go around.

The Ritz-Carlton at the intersection of Collins and Lincoln is part of a highly regarded hotel brand that has received rave reviews for its newly designed plush décor. But it's really the DiLido Beach Club out back that has people talking, and partying. Every Sunday afternoon, the DiLido transforms the ocean-view deck into a bustling, St. Tropezian affair that practically spills over with top-shelf models, A-list locals, and celebrities. In other words, it's what Sundays at Nikki Beach used to be. Though the outdoor setting is smaller than Nikki Beach, it features cabanas and couches on full, lush grass (as opposed to beds on the sand). To be fair, the Raleigh Hotel and its accomplished promoters, Tommy Pooch and Ingrid Casares, also have a neat little Sunday thang, but forget competition. There are plenty of big spenders to go around.

Longevity for music clubs in this city is akin to "dog years." A decade run equals a lifetime anywhere else. Which means the biweekly open-mike night at Luna Star Café, now in its eighth year, has grown long in the tooth. But you'd never notice by the exuberance of the participants, a roster of volunteer songsters who begin signing up about 8:00 p.m. for a night that runs into the wee hours. Young guns getting their first taste of the spotlight and old folkies reliving their glory days take to the stage with guitars, keyboards, even an occasional banjo or bongo. And it's not just one and done. Players can settle in and show their stuff with a set of three or four tunes. Neither is the night relegated to a slow Tuesday, like so many such affairs. Luna's jam takes place on Saturdays. Bring your six-string and work those vocals for the faithful, then relax with a few cold ones in Luna Star's friendly, casual, and arty atmosphere.

Longevity for music clubs in this city is akin to "dog years." A decade run equals a lifetime anywhere else. Which means the biweekly open-mike night at Luna Star Café, now in its eighth year, has grown long in the tooth. But you'd never notice by the exuberance of the participants, a roster of volunteer songsters who begin signing up about 8:00 p.m. for a night that runs into the wee hours. Young guns getting their first taste of the spotlight and old folkies reliving their glory days take to the stage with guitars, keyboards, even an occasional banjo or bongo. And it's not just one and done. Players can settle in and show their stuff with a set of three or four tunes. Neither is the night relegated to a slow Tuesday, like so many such affairs. Luna's jam takes place on Saturdays. Bring your six-string and work those vocals for the faithful, then relax with a few cold ones in Luna Star's friendly, casual, and arty atmosphere.

Siren, once monthly, grew so popular with its audience that the event now makes each Saturday a girls' night out. Miami's most metrosexual hangout does the women-who-like-women thing well -- clubs do not give up a Saturday night easily. That means more women in the upstairs lounge grooving to house music, salsa, and all things jiggy. Though Jade is not exclusively for women, Siren is, and it clearly makes the distaff crowd happy, merry, joyful, gay even. Like the women who have popularized Jade Saturdays, the club itself is hardly trashy, so closet the flannels and break out the lipstick, ladies.

Siren, once monthly, grew so popular with its audience that the event now makes each Saturday a girls' night out. Miami's most metrosexual hangout does the women-who-like-women thing well -- clubs do not give up a Saturday night easily. That means more women in the upstairs lounge grooving to house music, salsa, and all things jiggy. Though Jade is not exclusively for women, Siren is, and it clearly makes the distaff crowd happy, merry, joyful, gay even. Like the women who have popularized Jade Saturdays, the club itself is hardly trashy, so closet the flannels and break out the lipstick, ladies.

The mechanical makeup of the jukebox at the Sandbar is nothing extraordinary. It's a typical CD changer writ large but lacking fancy functions or a connection to the Internet. This particular box contains winner music from every pop genre of the past 40 years. Sadly that includes concessions to the loser music of today (Avril Lavigne, Pink ...). You'll still need a roll or two of quarters for the killer: The Clash, Bowie, Oingo Boingo, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, James Brown, Al Green, Patti Smith, B.B. King, the Pretenders, the Cure, Ludacris, and like that. This joint may not be fancy, but you can accompany your boozing with a soundtrack that's nothing short of intoxicating.

Best Of Miami®

Best Of Miami®