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The Lodge was designed to resemble an Aspen-like ski/hunting cabin (the all-wooden interior is festooned with vintage skis and snowshoes, beaver pelts, and is lit up by antler fixtures and blinking Christmas lights) but at times it better evokes a frat house in party mode, with the reek of stale beer and worn wood replacing fresh, pine-scented air. The jumbled Murray Hill gamut flocks here for cheap drinks: After-work patrons in suits chug cans of Natty from their ice-filled buckets as scruffy East Village types pop Cherry Bombs (maraschino cherries soaked in 151 rum) while playing Big Buck Hunter Pro. The back area is divided into three: a plasma TV room with wooden picnic benches, a fireplace nook with comfy low-to-the-ground seating for smaller gatherings, and an arcade with a dart board and video games. Should the munchies strike, you won't have to hunt and kill for sustenance—there's a large binder chock-full of menus from local delivery joints to discourage you from venturing into the great outdoors. — Tim O'Keefe

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