Blackout Spots

We Love Them, But They've Chosen Darkness

by Kelly White

We're just fine with the darkness emanating from McGlinchey's. The smoky den is one of the few places that lets you have a hot dog with your cigarette and not be seen. If the service is a bit feisty, suck it up. It's a known fact that reduced sunlight increases depression.

Who says Cantina Dos can't light up your night? The interior may be shady, but chef Mark McKinney's food is on the bright side. If you can't see your plate, ask for a candle. And remember, dining in the dark is actually trendy in some cities.

We tend to carry torches for interiors that hide imperfections and flatter your skin. The only artificial light at chef Christopher Hora's California-style BYOB peeks out from the kitchen, while the rest of the room is cast in a dim glow from table tealights. This ain't no Sunnydale.

The only lights here are Amstel and Coors. This Moroccan joint is so dusky that you could fall over a belly dancer if you're not careful. And the hanging brass lanterns at Fez do little to illuminate the multicourse platters of food that you eat with your hands, so let your sense of touch guide the way.

There's just enough luminescence inside the Piano Bar to make out musicians tickling the ivories during Friday happy hour. The lounge, formerly known as Cascamorto, goes heavy on the blackness, from jet velvet seats to onyx lungs in the smoke-friendly environs. Go ahead, live out your dream of being a complex and haunted blind jazz pianist.