Good plastic surgery is supposed to leave you tastefully rejuvenated yet totally recognizable. The second coming of Peacock Alley, the cocktail lounge inside the renovated Waldorf Astoria, fits the bill. With roots in the Gilded Age, Peacock Alley still features the hotel’s famous 1893 clock commissioned by Queen Victoria and a piano once played by Cole Porter (now used for live music most nights of the week). It’s like an interactive museum where you’re allowed—encouraged, even—to drink champagne, or maybe a $38 martini. With staff outfitted in costumey floor-length gold sequin dresses and blue velvet tuxes, Peacock Alley isn’t quite as transportive an old-money fantasy as King Cole Bar or Bemelmans. And the service might be a little cold, but at least it’s in a way that feels expensive. This is still a special place to escape modern-day Midtown and cosplay as a robber baron over free mixed nuts and pleasantly Cheez-It-like crackers. Try to snag one of the dozen seats along the more intimate-feeling bar. The cocktails are stiff and satisfying—like the Waldorf, an absinthe-rinsed Manhattan riff invented inside these walls. As for non-liquid offerings, the all-day food menu overlaps with Lex Yard, the hotel’s flagship restaurant. But their superbly flaky pigs in a blanket are only available at Peacock Alley. They arrive on a miniature silver Ferris wheel, because subtlety isn’t the point here.