A generous half-pound beef patty charred to a crisp on the outside with a tender pink inside, smothered in melted cheese and sandwiched amid cold lettuce, fresh tomatoes, onions, mayo, and pickle spears on a hearty fresh Kaiser roll — that's the Old Fashioned Cheeseburger, and there's no reason to detour from a perfect classic. This creation — an impeccable assemblage of everything that makes a burger fucking amazing — is not for the faint of heart. Take a fork and a handful of napkins, because you'll need to hoover everything that falls out the back when you bite into whichever side you deem the front. The pickle spears and mayo make the meat slip and slide on the roll like a game of hard to get with someone you lust after madly. But, of course, that burger is yours in the end, and you'll undoubtedly be jonesing for a second date by the end of the week.

Most steak houses are mausoleums of meat, boneyards of beef, retirement homes for carnivores. There's the obligatory dark wood and brass rail décor, which was really, really hip... in 1920. There's the pretentious, stultifying ambiance — half snobby suburban country club, half pompous dillweed. There's the usual roster of side dishes — shrimp cocktail, creamed spinach, hash browns, and the like — that have been around since the invention of food. Even if the steaks are good, everything else is so dull and dated that you feel like you've been dropped into an old black-and-white episode of Leave It to Beaver. Then there's Cut 432. The beef is pedigreed and killer — wet- and dry-aged, USDA Prime, Wagyu, Niman Ranch. The sides are actually interesting — beet and pistachio salad, blue cheese tater tots, pancetta-roasted Brussels sprouts. And the sleek, modern dining room and rollicking good-timey atmosphere are anything but old and tired. You don't go to Cut to retire; you go to live.

The prickly pear margarita at Canyon is pink enough to give you advance visual warning that this is not your average tequila cocktail. But worry not: The bright color does not mean it's going to be sickeningly sugary like most festively hued drinks. It's perfect: sweet in a way that's complementary to the sour of lime and sour in a way that delivers a gentle pucker without curling your tongue into submission. The fruit of the prickly pear cactus is subtly pleasing like fresh watermelon and pairs with tequila better than meatballs with spaghetti. Balance is key to the margarita, and this specimen walks a tightrope of secret ingredients without faltering one bit. Canyon bartenders serve up the drink to a usually full bar of well-dressed locals, so arrive early if you want a seat to enjoy the most delicious pink drink in town — a Fort Lauderdale fixture as much as the adjacent Gateway Theater marquee.

The elusive best poured Guinness: a chilled, ruby-colored brew buried deep in a pint glass and crowned with a creamy, frothy head that coats your throat on the way down. Maybe the Irish have fire in their blood because, west of Ireland, finding this heady, alcohol-filled treasure done right is rarer than finding gold at the end of a rainbow. But at the Field, a dollhouse-like Irish pub, you can settle on the outdoor patio (under the shade of an enormous banyan tree) and have a pretty bartender pour you a pint of pure perfection. The Field may not be close to Ireland, but it's certainly close to heaven.

A swanky, sultry hotel lounge with an ambiance that inspires sex and a view that stares straight out at the sparkling sea? Adding awesome martinis — a perfect classic and a unique collection of specialties, including the award-winning Cubeltini — can only make that better.

Rosie's bloody mary is a drink most blessed and revered: It's spicy enough to wake you up, tangy enough to please your taste buds, and filling enough to combat even the nastiest of hangovers. It's like a big, welcoming bowl of (alcoholic) tomato soup and even perfectly acceptable by most social standards to consume before noon — lavish brunch not required. But should you opt for it, Rosie has you covered: "Sunday Funday Brunch" takes place every Sunday between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m., and during this very special time, you can procure $2 Ultimate Bloody Marys. They're cheap enough to down a lot of 'em and good enough to guarantee you'll never get a mary elsewhere again.

Da Big Kahuna's Jungle Juice is an intoxicating, tropical-themed elixir that deserves this award if for no other reason than because there is no category for "Best Drink With Which to Knock an Entire Sorority on Its Collective Ass." The Juice is served in a giant plastic seashell with multiple straws and partially submerged pieces of fruit, all of which have spent adequate time floating in this magic potion to become potent themselves. Whether you're dosing out-of-towners or downing the whole thing yourself, the Jungle Juice is novel, fun, and delicious, and it will totally fuck you up.

The Tequesta Brewing Co. is a perfect mixture of old and new. The always-packed tap room sports modern flourishes like exposed metal rafters and dark-blue lighting that makes the stainless-steel brewing vessels visible from the bar look like UFOs about to take flight. Complementing that is vintage-style black-and-white photography and a 100-year-old bar that looks like it was taken straight out of a German bier garden. TBC's beers are all topnotch, from the smooth and drinkable Gnarly Barley to the heavy-hitting Double IPA injected with nitrogen. But the one that best represents owner Matt Webster's ability to toe that contemporary/classical divide is Der Chancellor, a German-style Kölsch that pours a beautiful shade of pale gold. In authentic fashion, this light-bodied lager is well-carbonated, with an almost champagne-like finish. But where Webster introduces a bit of good ol' American ingenuity is in the hops, a heady dose that's slightly bitter but extremely aromatic. The result is a brew that demands another round — and one you can appreciate no matter how old- (or new-)school a beer drinker you are.

You've been at the beach for hours, you've had a few beers, you have no plans for the entire afternoon, but you're getting sleepy. It's scorching outside — too hot to drink coffee and too pleasant to go home. Solution: Brush the sand off your ass and go to the Pirate Bar to walk the plank. It's a sake bomb but much more fun. Once you walk down Pirate Alley, just north of Las Olas, between Spazio and a junky gift shop, you'll encounter a dark enclave that is the diviest of beach bars. There, the bartender lines up booze-filled cups, balancing shots of sake on chopsticks over beer glasses; slam the bar and guzzle — and all for four bucks.

Movies, alcohol, and food... Is there any better trifecta? Lucky for us, all three are magically joined at FAU's Living Room Theaters movie complex in Boca Raton. Having opened its doors in October 2010, the complex includes four 50-seat theaters, each equipped with state-of-the-art sound, immaculate picture quality, and those fancy leather seats with moveable armrests. In addition to the ideal movie-watching environment, there are European-style café offerings, a slew of gourmet delights, and most important, a wide selection of specialty microbrews and wine. The alcohol prices aren't too shabby either; $5 pint glasses will surely spice up any movie experience. Best of all, no need to worry about keg-partying college kids or American Pie-type films. Living Room Theaters is committed to providing films from all over the world, indie flicks, and notable classics such as Hitchcock favorites. Just imagine hearing the shower scene from Psycho in digital surround sound after a few glasses of wine. So, for your next movie experience, skip the crying-baby-filled theaters and overpriced concession snacks and enjoy a beer (or a few) at FAU.