Tag: The Purloined Menu

La Cumbamba rocks. “Hotel California” is turned up to 11, competing against El Beso Azteca banging it out in the basement clubhouse. Fresh salsa, drippy candlesticks, and expired gladiolus loiter on mismatched tables under the sulk of a Keith Richards portrait and nudie ceramic figurines. William Restrepo, chef, waiter, owner, and antagonist of “poopy Colombians” […]

Souk is hazy and perfumey and inviting, like some Casbah hideaway, though it’s smack in the middle of Wicker Park. It’s amusing to watch the habitues hooked up to hookahs filled with scented tobacco–exhaling apricot, strawberry, mint, or apple has rescued a lethargic-old-guy tradition and turned it trendy–mesmerizing to wonder if the candles set into […]

MK is cool and sleek, and–despite a certain degree of overage navel flashing–disarmingly pleasant. Michael Kornick’s got a nice-looking resume, what with Marche’s terrific menu (if annoying crowd) and Red Light’s vibrancy. So it probably won’t be long before he gets his latest eat-and-be-seen scene up to snuff. –Leah Eskin Malpeque oysters The strangest pair […]

For years Le Bouchon had the best roast chicken in town, not to mention the most convivial atmosphere, especially if you like the sardine effect imposed by huge popularity and only 44 seats. So when the owners decided to go upscale and –more significantly–up-capacity, I was ready to wriggle into La Sardine. The new place, […]

One SixtyBlue

Bistrot Zinc offers a confusion of options – the late-night crepeteria, the crowded (and, indeed, zinc) bar, a clubby lounge, and a wide dining room–all cluttered with the cliches of French dining: rattan chairs askew on the sidewalk, Edith Piaf on auto-reverse, and a taxidermied chicken on duty by the register. Dining here takes gumption […]

Starfish

Hi Ricky

There was a sense of recklessness with which we pursued dinner at Mango, ordering more than we could consume, more than decorum would suggest we drink, and loitering later than management might have preferred. Despite the overwrought food styling and vaguely disturbing sconces, Mango’s crisp decor and simple American menu inspire such easy indulgence. -Leah […]

After yoga I slip into this lethargic trance during which almost nothing can unnerve me. So when Vicky Ortega, the gracious hostess at Chapulin, broke the news about the pending liquor license, I didn’t flinch. A beer might have edged me into a relaxation coma. Once I sampled the work of chefs and co-owners Don […]

Ben Pao

Jim’s Grill

Strega Nona

Salpicon

Redfish