New York minute/Early November 2009
The good: PDT in the East Village, where a little horde of us headed after a friend’s superb photography opening as guests of the gallery owner and where I could safely guess our experience was not the norm. It’s secreted alongside the Crif hot dog joint on St. Marks Place, a sleek narrow room with booths, a bar and taxidermed animals (ours was an otter, teeth bared in a grin, with a lace cap on). I had an excellent St. Rita cocktail to start, with Champagne and rye as I recall, then wisely switched to wine, which the waitress would have been wise to identify as Dr. Frank riesling — she would not have needed to bring tastes of it and the Chardonnay to reassure us it would not be too fruity. Otherwise the service was superb. Dinner was a Lebanese buffet brought in from nearby Al Diwan, and everything I tasted was good enough to make me want to give it a real try someday, particularly the hummus, borek and baklava. Best of all was the noise level: Music was playing, but six of us in a booth could hear each other babble. WIGB? Not likely — I’m not that cool. 212 614 0386.