Ore House--The HooDoos are a favorite of ours.
One luscious night, Mr. Jackson froze as we walked across the Plaza, the chords of Samba Pa Ti floating through the air. I watched as three, count 'em, other men stopped and looked at their companions with this faraway look in their eyes. We all samba'd into the Ore House and shared a beer. Mr. Jackson and I walked down the aisle to this tune.