A plate of pickled herring. What's not to love?
Every several years in New York City, there seems to be a turnover in the old world restaurants and bars; contemporary crowds decide to mythologize and patronize. For instance, a few weeks ago, I wrote about how Michael's, the art-filled power-lunch spot near MoMA, is getting a surge of new energy from the downtown crowd, presumably fueled by ’90s nostalgia and Ryan Murphy’s vexing yet undeniable cultural influence.
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