It was dark (but not stormy) as a friend and I wandered into the Snug, hungry and desperate for some kind of meat. I’d been told the bar’s name came from an old Irish term for the corner of a saloon where womenfolk could huddle together and enjoy an 18th-century girls’ night out, virtue unbesmirched. I’d also been told the place had great sliders, in a variety of surf and turf: beef, turkey, salmon, tuna—yum! ($5). We settled into a booth set so high off the floor that our legs dangled like little girls’. Candles in water-filled bowls lined the walls. A bit posh, a tad sporty, and eminently comfortable, the Snug delivered, and we 21st-century mademoiselles were warm and toasty with our signature cocktails. (Try the Geraldo, an apple martini with mucho lime juice, $10.) Birthday revelers were sucking down corpuscle-colored shots at the back of the bar. “It’s called a blood shot and they made it especially for us,” one lad informed us. Were they vampires? Close. They were the cast and crew of Evil Dead: The Musical, and one bloodsucker, Brandon Wardell, who plays “the horny best friend” in Off-Broadway’s new zombie-fest, claims he dies 48 times a week in the show. “The only time I can be in this neighborhood and not expect to die six times a day is when I’m drinking at the Snug.” Well, if that isn’t comfort, we don’t know what is.