A handful of sit-down restaurants hoping to cash in on summer ice-cream cravings have started selling creamy, pastry chef–approved servings to go. We sampled their results, and offered our own superlatives.
Yes, Steven Alan, the man who New York says “reinvented the button-down for artfully ruffled hipsters,” conducted his phone interview with us over brown rice at M Café in Los Angeles (he’s there to sort out the details of his upcoming Hollywood store, while scouting out a location for another store in Venice, where he went to high school). But that doesn’t mean he isn’t a New York eater at heart. He grew up here and lives in Chinatown, where he indulges in Malaysian noodle breakfasts and Shanghai dumplings. We asked him what he ate around town during a frenetic week of preparing his men’s and women’s lines for his first ever Fashion Week presentation.
Before Morimoto, before Buddakan, before Buddha Bar, before Megu Midtown, there was — well — Megu. Sure its star has faded (there was that sexual-harassment suit and such), but no one can argue that the $6 million interior isn't still fresh — just like the toro tartare! Look at the mirrored diorama, outside the restroom, that reflects an Oriental lamp and a flower display into infinity: Way cooler than Morimoto’s mirror installation, right? But what about the rest of the restrooms?
As we noted when we toured the restrooms at Morandi, Keith McNally has pissed away a great deal of money to make his restaurant lavatories the gold standard. When Morandi failed to hit the mark, we were truly bummed, so to restore our faith in the master (and to make sure we weren’t remembering his previous works through Clorox-colored glasses), we decided to embark on an epic stall crawl of McNally’s previous loos, from Pravda’s Commie commodes to (pardon our French) the shitters at Schiller’s. Come flush with us.