Teetotalers needn't bother with El Coyote. This Mexican cantina is an L.A. institution, and it's not because of the gristley chicken tamales or the oily chips; it's because their cheap margaritas are of an octane that will render you blissfully, maniacally hammered. So much so, that you won't even notice how insipid the food is, you'll just be craning your neck to spot drunk celebrities.
