Schiller's Liquor Bar: Was this the beginning of the end for the rockin’ Lower East Side we once new? In and of itself, this formulaic installment of the Keith McNally empire (Pastis, Balthazar, etc.) works nicely way down here. Even its faux-weathered décor of tarnished mirrors, cracked floors, and subway tile walls give the impression that this relative newbie hit this old neighborhood when the first boatloads of immigrants reached shore. But we can’t blame poor Schiller’s for making steak frites and brunching standards so good that they lure fur-wearing Meatpacking District types into this corner of the city where they hadn’t previously dared venture. It’s this kind of versatility that will allow Schiller’s, along with its neighborhood, to make the jump from hipster to scenester—a distinction we’re all embarrassed to make. |
