Donnie Vegas: Old, Not Dirty Vegas

But the Vegas theme at the tiny, black-painted space that once held Black Cat and Legend is subdued, like most of the memories—mainly just plush red booths, some horseshoes and, for whatever reason, Bruce Lee fighting Mike Tyson. 

That puts the focus on the pre-made, kegged cocktails, which pour out of the taps. The Dude ($7) is a spiced-up, carbonated white Russian (“another Caucasian, Gary”) made with cold-brew Stumptown, and it’s one of the best renditions I’ve had. The Flanders ($8) doesn’t come from Belgium; it’s a white wine spritzer just like Ned drinks, albeit classed up with Italian bitter liqueur. A shot of house-blended amaro with a short craft beer—only two on tap—runs $6, and a happy-hour Moscow Mule is a fiver. 

And the food’s all hot dogs. Not sausage. Not stuffed with peanuts or whatever. Just classic hot dogs, red and thin, and almost all $4, whether comfortable in classic kraut and mustard, dressed up as a banh mi, or smothered in harissa-lemon relish. 

Donnie Vegas is something Alberta Street desperately needs, a midrange hangout where nobody is likely to look like Steve Zahn or Vince Vaughn.