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La Esquina: Knock six times, hop on one leg, promise your firstborn, whisper the password “New England clam chowder,” and you’re in! Ok, we’re kidding—sorta—but the “secrecy” surrounding this subterranean Mexican brasserie has been so overblown, it’s almost urban legend. If you come in without a reservation—made two weeks in advance—you will be rebuffed. This is, after all, the kind of place where Jay-Z snacks next to Madonna (or so the waiter says). On the first visit, it’s disconcerting to pass through the kitchen to get to the gothic, “Phantom”-esque bar, replete with spiked grate and candelabras dripping hot wax. The ceviche is amazing, and though the vibe doesn’t exactly scream “Mexican,” you’ll feel so cool just to be in here, you won’t care. |
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