Once upon a time, downtown was a place of light and shadow, a place you might be afraid to venture alone without a superhero costume to change into, a place you definitely didn't think of as a dining destination unless you were craving pickled eggs after a hard night of honky-tonking (not that there's anything wrong with that). But in 2015, downtown is where you want to go, and not just to show off your ninja parking skills (which you are going to need if there's no valet).

A little piece of the UK is tucked away down Printer's Alley. You can cock-a-leekie soup, bangers and mash or shepherd's pie, and the pub is dark and cozy. But don't get it twisted: You're still in America. Pints are served cold; we call it soccer, not football; and the Baker Street Burger might as well come with a little flag and an NRA membership card. Because nobody does burgers like the land of the free and the home of the cronut. Nobody. U.-S.-A.! U.-S.-A.! U.-S.-A.!

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