So here we go.

It's December. It's cold. And Jack Frost is on the verge of doing some pretty unspeakable things to this afternoon's commute. Winter has arrived.

Here to throw a little salt down for the weekend ahead: Mr. Brown's Lounge, a cozy reggae den scheduled to open Friday, offering Bob Marley, charcoal-fired jerk chicken and one hell of a Jamaican rum punch all in equal, heaping measures.

With its tasteful black-lacquered bamboo walls and tufted bar stools, this former taxidermy-filled Ukrainian dive bar has been remade with a, shall we say, less confrontational interior (stuffed and/or soused things silently staring at you have a way of creating tension).

Find your way to the back, where low-slung tables and comfortable seating await. The Jamaican chef, in his first stateside gig, is eager to show you what he can do with curried goat, oxtail, spicy mac 'n' cheese and that least known of Jamaican delicacies, Grape-Nuts ice cream.

But this is the also kind of place where you could order a Red Stripe at the original art deco bar—now outfitted with Rastafarian colors—pick a few classic Desmond Dekker or Burning Spear selections from the reggae-stuffed jukebox, and settle in for friendly small talk at the bar.

So the weather is strictly off-limits.