Earlier this summer, I met up with friends at the latest restaurant-that’s-more-like-a-bar on the Lower East Side. As we were handed our menus, our server reminded us with a tone of gentle but unwavering insistence: We needed to be out in 90 minutes. We raced through dinner—cocktails, a dozen plates to share—and in the end had time left over. (We ordered a bottle of wine to max out our minutes.)
I’d seen what happens to diners who blow their deadlines. Tables had been getting the pink slip in Brooklyn a few weeks before at an otherwise cozy spot in Fort Greene. I was seated next to a couple still picking at the bones of their whole fish when a manager asked whether they planned on staying for dessert. “We’re going to need this table back shortly,” she said. In a corner, a three-top got the boot during their last round of drinks.
この記事は New York magazine の Aug 12 - 25, 2024 版に掲載されています。
7 日間の Magzter GOLD 無料トライアルを開始して、何千もの厳選されたプレミアム ストーリー、9,000 以上の雑誌や新聞にアクセスしてください。
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この記事は New York magazine の Aug 12 - 25, 2024 版に掲載されています。
7 日間の Magzter GOLD 無料トライアルを開始して、何千もの厳選されたプレミアム ストーリー、9,000 以上の雑誌や新聞にアクセスしてください。
すでに購読者です? サインイン
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