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Sure, there’s hip-hop on the turntables and $250 Grey Goose bottle service at the wooden tables. But this is Astoria, not Tribeca, so Athenian pop tunes alternate with Jay-Z, and the youthful Greek crowd smokes with impunity at this large, sparsely-decorated nightclub. Behind a wall of wine bottles in the red-walled main room, a smaller side lounge offers an L-shaped bar and some shelter from the bass lines. Yet a stronger draw is the red ceramic-tile patio (with another bar), which achieves a romantic glow via tabletop candles, white fairy lights and the twinkle of planes overhead. Despite its name, Central is anything but centrally located; to the contrary, it’s on the edge of Queens. — Danny Freedman