Palatial pubs

THE newest pleasure palace in Las Vegas is the Palazzo (3325 Las Vegas Blvd. South, 607-7777), a sort of annex of the Venetian bringing even more slick eateries, designer shops and Broadway-imported shows to their little corner of the Strip. However, the Palazzo is a bit light on bars, most of which come as a sort of afterthought to the eating, the shopping or the gambling.

Currently, the most unique and sublime cocktail experience in town can be had at the bar in Restaurant Charlie. Celeb chef Charlie Palmer's new seafood joint is as pricey, swanky and scrumptious as they come, and the specialty cocktails are as stunning as the food. The bar is serene and sleek, with modernist grey-and-white décor and cushy barstools that feel even more comfy when the host pulls them out and pushes them in for you -- my companion remarked it was the first time she'd been tucked-in in years. While the jingle and flash of the slot machines is vaguely visible through the frosted-glass windows, it seems half a world away.

The bartenders of Restaurant Charlie also have chef experience, which is demonstrated in the remarkable combinations and unusual ingredients used in their drinks. The tarrange starts with Hangar One vodka, then mixes in the surprisingly friendly flavors of tarragon and orange with a dash of fennel syrup and topped with sea salt soda; the rum-based peachy keen is spiced with peaches, cardamom and honey, composing not only a sweet, fresh taste, but a divine scent -- it cultivates two senses at once and I had to resist the profound temptation to put some behind my ears. There's also a lychee-raspberry concoction in the works; the bartender spent a spare moment fiddling with the recipe, commenting it was a few weeks' experimentation from a finished product. (Although the lychee-stuffed-with-a-raspberry garnish and its witty resemblance to a cocktail olive is already in place.) But not every drink at Restaurant Charlie is an in-house invention: A selection of classic cocktails is also featured, including the original cocktail, the Sazerac, made as it should be: with rye whiskey, absinthe, and both Peychaud's and Angostura bitters.

Another off-casino option is the Double Helix Wine Bar, located at the intersection of Diane Von Furstenburg and Christian Louboutin. After considering a glass of Malbec and passing on the mini-bottle of Perrier-Jouet, I chose a bottle of Star Rabbit blueberry-infused bubbling sake. I'm fond of sake's many and varied forms, but if this was anything other than a berry-flavored wine cooler, I couldn't tell. (It also cost about as much as two sixers of Bartles & Jaymes.) There's also a solid selection of wines and a half-dozen or so specialty cocktails that seemed to be a bit on the over-sweet side. The atmosphere of the double Helix is a sort of anti-atmosphere: Open to the mall -- excuse me, the Palazzo Shoppes -- with a circular granite-topped bar fencing in another sectioned bar and a few tables in a spiral pattern designed to be reminiscent of DNA, although I hope my DNA doesn't play a non-stop soundtrack of three decades of power ballads.

Of course, if you desire zingy surroundings with lots of casino action, your best bet is the Jersey Boys bar. It's not called that, but its location next to the theatre showing the Frankie Valli jukebox musical and its zebra print/glittery chandelier/black leather décor does make one feel kinda Jersey, indeed. The crowd also evokes the Garden State, with plenty of frosted-haired fortyish ladies and their paunchy escorts filling some tables, mixed in with a few tube-topped younger women and older video-poker jockeys at the bar. A lounge band in snappy fedoras turns out the R&B hits on a small corner stage illuminated with hot pink lights. While a lounge band is nice, the open design of the Jersey Boys bar also offers another form of entertainment: watching the Palazzo's large and varied selection of strolling ladies (ahem), as well as the seemingly endless stream of bachelorettes. Given their identical attire of cooch-grazing neon-toned minidresses and unwalkable heels, it's a good thing the latter wear those ridiculous toy bridal veils and "I'm a bridesmaid!" buttons, or else some embarrassing confusion could ensue. And I think the Palazzo wants its floorshows to be a bit classier than that.