This grand hotel saloon, whose centerpiece is a grandiose Maxfield Parrish mural of Old King Cole, is steeped in legend. The lounge’s best-known invention is the Bloody Mary—née the Red Snapper, right here in 1934. But these days, the drink leaves something to be desired: When we ordered the classic nip, the bartender sloshed a prebatched mix over vodka and ice chips, and give it an apathetic stir. The same indifference plagued a Manhattan, made with a sloppy gurgle of sweet vermouth, Michter’s rye and a standard-issue maraschino cherry. At $18 a pop, a little precision is in order.