A VISIT TO EULALIE begins, inevitably, with an outgoing voice-mail message. That alone may be disqualifying for whole swaths of would-be diners; Eulalie is on no reservation apps and has no official website. "You have found us in the wonderful and historic Tribeca," announces the voice of Tina Vaughn, who, with her husband, Chip Smith, runs Eulalie in the address recently vacated by Bâtard. This is not a short message. It comes with news (it is fully booked), rules ("We do so appreciate your best in terms of attire... think more Mad Men and less Grubhub"), and an invitation to leave a message and be called back because, as Vaughn says, "we are so looking forward to welcoming you."
She means it, too. "Welcome to the house!" Vaughn crowed on a recent Tuesday. After the Klimtian moodiness of Bâtard, the space has been stripped to a kind of Colonial plainness with pea-green, mostly unadorned walls and yards of white tablecloth. But Vaughn warms her dining room like a roost. I had been only once before, and already I had a usual table.
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