Best Neighborhood Bar in South Palm Beach 2006 | Nippers | Bars & Clubs | South Florida
Nippers has managed to keep a local-bar feel even in a town like Boca. While other local watering holes pretty up and scare off working stiffs and college types, Nippers has created an oasis for getting drunk in a sea of haute couture. On Wednesday, the club fills with anxious players as the pool and poker tourneys kick off. Drink specials are frequent, and a DJ plays until 5 a.m. on Thursday. Soused scholarship kids sing karaoke until 5 a.m. on Friday. Ladies night, on Saturday, is when you want to make your appearance, when the club fills with coeds after 2 a.m. and last call is still three hours away. The bar grub is surprisingly topnotch, especially the wraps and fries, and it's served all night. Amazing that in a chi-chi landscape, a joint for the lunch-pail crowd still thrives.
Dirty and dwarf -- not the two most attractive words in the English lexicon. In fact, we'd have to say that the owners are kind of, um, brave to name their establishment the Dirty Dwarf Pub. But in a world full of fake tiki bars and Bennigans look-alikes, the Dwarf offers a welcome alternative. Kind of bizarre, kind of dark, and all the way awesome, this place has battle axes hanging on the wall, 95 flavors of beer (24 on draft), and a menu full of intriguing eats (from vegan subs to "Scotch egg with chutney" -- a hard-boiled egg, wrapped in sausage, breaded, and deep-fried). If you're not one of the late-nighters who frequents this stop on Lake Worth's main drag, do find some time to discover it. As the bar's motto goes, "You always have time for a Ôshort one.'"
Last call is one of the most depressing moments of the night. The lights come up and you can see exactly who you were hitting on all night. What a scary thought. At Foster's Too, it isn't last call; it's "see you in a few." The bar shuts down at 5 a.m., like all good watering holes should -- but the good folks at this favored local spot reopen only two hours later as the sun is just starting to get in your eyes. Once you're shooed away from the pool tables and the dozens of televisions, keep in mind it's only 120 minutes until the drinks start flowing again. So, hit the Denny's and refuel your gut for round two, because Foster's last call is more like a temporary delay before you get re-called.
Kristin Bjornsen
Do you get the shakes when you venture west of I-95? Are you allergic to socks? Do you own more bathing suits than pants? Come, let us lead you to your people. They've just come from the beach across the street. They're gathered on the wooden decks of Bahia Cabana, watching the boats go by on the Intracoastal. They're sipping tropical cocktails, munching on dolphin fingers, laughing and bullshitting and flirting with the waitress. They're sitting on the colorful, hand-painted stools around the tiki bar listening to some singer/songwriter bring the tunes. Some of your more adventurous brethren have jumped in the pool (since the bar is attached to a hotel) or, even better, the hot tub. A few of them went in to the gift shop to buy coconut lip balm. Unless the temps have dropped below 75 degrees. Then they're inside, looking for a heater.
Hey, old-timer, what are you doing at a skatepark? You must be, what, 24... 25? This here's a place for young people. Shouldn't you be out at some nightclub tossin' back the brewskis and chasing women? Well, it just so happens that you can do all of that -- drink, skate, and (possibly) score -- the third Wednesday night of the month. For free. Just pop in to Automatic Slim's after 9 p.m. for its weekly Bump & Grind Skate Night and show 'em your AARP card, er, photo I.D. that proves you're over 21. Once inside, you'll know where to go -- there's a five-foot halfpipe adjacent to the front window. Oh, it's safe; there's a net to keep your board from flying onto the bar. Of course, there's nothing to keep you from falling off your board. If anything, the two-dollar Pabst Blue Ribbons are just another obstacle. Keeping the booze to a minimum might be wise, if not for the sake of your swollen hipbone then for the scantily clad bartenders you're trying to impress. Who knows? If you do well, maybe there'll be more bumping and grinding without your board.
Lots of taverns serve free food; usually, you get what you pay for. Chex mix, jalapeño poppers from a hijacked Costco truck, pygmy chicken wings -- who needs that crap? Cucina dell'Arte is a restaurant during the day with all the swank you'd expect from Palm Beach (Rush Limbaugh sightings, walking plastic-surgery advertisements, enough empty beauty to shame a dozen Paris Hiltons), but at night, it's a fancy-schmancy watering hole. From around midnight until 3 a.m., the place fills with the cosmetically superior classes, the music is cranked considerably beyond 11, and the kitchen just keeps on rockin'. To go with the posher-than-thou cocktails and designer threads, the free pizza is typically high-end: You don't generally see complimentary goat cheese appetizers unless you've made it past St. Pete's pearly gates. Or you're in Palm Beach.
Can't go to the game? You can still get that 50-yard-line experience at the Park, the Ÿber-sports bar at the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino. The interior of this palace to televised athletics mimics a true ballpark, as does the food on the menu. High-class hot dogs and other stadium food appear on the well-thought-out menu. And the Park's versions are not just fun to order but they actually digest well -- as opposed to what you get at the ballpark. But when it comes down to game time, who cares about food? What you really want is action, lots of it, and up close. What better way to see the game than on a 16-by-9-foot video wall? Only an IMAX screen could compete. If one gigantic TV isn't enough, shift your eyes to any of the 150 others scattered wherever your eyes may rest. And when the games end, the games begin, if you take our meaning. Because the Park doubles as a nightclub. Wednesdays through Saturdays starting at 9 p.m., live DJs spin the Top 40s and dance music until 4 a.m.
The people you're likely to meet hanging out at Kala's are almost as international as the understated wine bar's menu. Co-owners Kathleen "Kala" Gies and her husband, Gunter, are U.K. and German expats, respectively. A given evening might find Parisian tourists sampling a hearty Bordeaux at an outdoor table or a ruddy gentleman in a kilt and tweed coat savoring a crisp California Chardonnay while lounging on the plush couch at the front of the bar. Kala herself is usually onhand with recommendations for exacting enophiles and curious beginners. Her staff is friendly and knowledgeable and can easily navigate the well-rounded wine list, which includes a few rare, delicious selections. Most vintages are offered by the bottle or the glass and fall within a reasonable price range. Though Kala's doesn't have a kitchen, it's centrally located among the cluster of restaurants and cafés on Galt Ocean Mile, most of which will deliver right to your table with a simple phone call. Like Kala's patrons, these too are from around the globe: Cuban, French, American, and Thai are all available. Cheers!

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