Frances: The cocktail, in my foolish and cartoonish opinion, is the vice of the leisure suit clad pseudo-sophisticate. I think “cocktail” and I think “pigs-in-a-blanket.” Unless there’s eggnog in that fancy glass, I’m usually not sold on it. But at The Johnson’s, suburban seventies tacky is re-imagined and spun fresh and lovely and somehow, nostalgia inducing. It was the perfect place to let go of my discriminatory attitude towards cocktails.