"At what other bar in Miami can you run into your parents, your ex, your ex’s parents, your old 7th grade geometry teacher, and a member of the ’72 Dolphins—all in the same night? Nowhere but Joe’s, baby. The restaurant’s front bar is where Miamians have killed time waiting for a table for the last 100-plus years. It’s still a beautifully chaotic scene, and precisely the kind of old-school space that demands an extra dirty martini with a couple of fat blue cheese olives. And, boy, do the Joe's bartenders know the meaning of filthy. Ask for that and they'll hand you a martini that's practically green. True story: last time we were here, the bartender performed a magic trick as he was handing back our credit card. Never change, Joe’s." - ryan pfeffer, virginia otazo
