Tyler Anderson

Keeping a dive bar—and even a beloved one—alive in New York isn’t easy: Just look at the recent demises of Milady’s, Winnie’s and Mars Bar (RIP). Which makes the phoenixlike rebirth of Holiday Cocktail Lounge—a six-decade-old East Village mainstay whose barstools have seen the likes of Allen Ginsberg, Joey Ramone and Sinatra—such a head-scratching anomaly. Three years after the bar shuttered its dinted metal doors following the sale of the building, the saloon has been given a new lease on life, thanks to Pirate’s Booty founder Robert Ehrlich and La Palapa owner Barbara Sibley. And though the place has been spruced up—duct-taped booths traded for green banquettes, neon beer signs for gold sconces—the joint hasn’t been scrubbed clean of its charm. ORDER THIS: While $5 Genesees survived the refurbishing, the cocktail list has been reworked courtesy of barman brothers Michael and Danny Neff (Ward III and Extra Fancy, respectively). The I Know You Are… ($13) is a standout, a smooth mescal swill with a slow burn of peppercorn-infused Cointreau. For something lighter, opt for the Mortally Afraid of Madam ($13), a creamy whiskey concoction tinged with Avuá Amburana cachaça and frothed with egg white. GOOD FOR: Holiday virgins and veterans alike. Frequenters of the original will breathe easy seeing that the battered red awning, wooden phone booth and signature horseshoe bar remain. Beneath a restored harem-girl mural, dating back to the 1920s when the bar was known as Ali Baba Burles

One August morning in 1977, an aging, bloated rock icon pulled on a blond wig and bought a one-way ticket from Memphis to Istanbul, where he hitchhiked the hippie trail and stealthily bunked in guesthouses until opening a small bar in Kathmandu. Or so goes the fictional legend behind this raucous East Village basement boîte from Baby’s All Right honchos Billy Jones and Zachary Mexico. Tucked in the team’s former punky Arrow space, the indie-rocking dive is neither all-out music venue nor dance club but a hybrid of the two, rigged with a steady stream of avant-garde DJs (Chances with Wolves, Tennessee Thomas), no-frills drinks and a “selfie corner.” Yep, it’s exactly what it sounds like. (Sorry.) ORDER THIS: Fancy cocktails these ain’t. Drinks may be of the dive variety, but the bartenders definitely know how to navigate the bottles, pouring generous standards ($12)—we’re talking two parts alcohol to every one-part mixer—like vodka-sodas jolted with turmeric and whiskey-spiked iced tea, and offering a handful of beers on tap, including Busch ($5), Spaten ($7) and Pacifico ($6). The bar’s also in the process of brewing its own house ale, dubbed Concierge. GOOD FOR: Aficionados of camp. Elvis fanatics might despair at the lack of Graceland paraphernalia, but there are Kama Sutra–wallpapered bathrooms, shower-curtained bathhouse alcoves and a rose-covered corner fixed with Instagram-ready lighting. (Hey, what more do you want?) It’s a space befitting the diverse crowd: ball-cappe