Down a half-block alley just off the Bowery, amid glass condos that feel like they could be anywhere, tucks one of New York’s best parties. Part of a two-space project from Momofuku’s chef Paul Carmichael, Bar Kabawa has taken the role of the kid sister to the prix fixe Kabawa next door — which means it can cut loose.

At its core, Bar Kabawa (8 Extra Place, at East First Street) is a daiquiri hut, a place to drink, snack on Caribbean patties, and play dominos, which are kindly set out at the minuscule bar’s center table for all to enjoy — amid the just-loud-enough dancehall beats. Yes, the frozen drinks are more sophisticated than what’s pulled from a slushie machine on the boardwalk, and the patties nothing like those in the Golden Krust warmers (and that’s not just because both are considerably more expensive). The best part is it feels like everyone is there. On one night, the party to my left was two bros in matching fleece vests, while to my right sat a woman in a backless going-out top. And crucially, everyone is having a good time.

Though there is wine and beer on the menu, you are coming to Bar Kabawa to drink rum. That could be in the form of its daiquiris, many of which are made with a mesmerizing to-watch hand-cranked ice machine, raining delicate ice flakes into wide coupes, over which your drink is dramatically poured. Some are served straight up, like a bay leaf daiquiri made with blitzed, freeze-dried leaves that add just the barest hint of astringency to the mossy green cocktail, or the Soft Landing, made with El Dorado five-year rum, cava, and brown butter. There are a few cocktails built for two and a massive menu of individual bottles through which to sip.

Carmichael, who is from Barbados, centers the short bar menu around all the influences and flavors across the Caribbean. “Tum Tum Yum Yums” include plump raw shrimp on a bed of cabbage and pikliz, and Solomun Gundy, a typically Jamaican pate of smoked fish and roe that, by nature of Bar Kabawa’s location, rhymes with the history of smoked fish appetizing shops in the neighborhood. This version comes with a bruleed top and served with impossibly thin cassava chips. But the stars are the patties, which come both fried and baked, with fillings like short rib and conch, decadent pepperpot duck and foie gras, bright curry crab, and geera goat.

The menu goads you to “eat your patties like you’re in the know,” by ordering coco bread, which you should use to create a carb-on-carb sandwich around each patty. It’s remarkably filling, a nice cushion to the patties starting at $14.

The menu has room for one dessert, but may I suggest instead opting for the luxurious pina colada, made with two types of rum, cream of coconut, and frozen pineapple chunks instead of ice, to ensure it never goes watery. It’s thick like a diner milkshake and tastes like whatever your version of the beach is.

It has lately felt that hospitality has come a distant third to food and vibes at restaurants, the assumption being that if you ate a great meal in a beautiful space, you’d be a real jerk to complain if the server (an essential worker!) was rude. But the key to Bar Kabawa’s party is the service. It’s difficult to know the inner workings of any restaurant, but from the outside, it feels like everyone is having fun. The bartenders are chatty and ready to laugh, the servers attentive. That energy is contagious, and a reminder that “vibes” don’t have to be self-consciously and cynically applied. It can in fact just mean making people feel welcome.