Recently, my friend Julie took me to EN Japanese Brasserie as a birthday gift. We arrived unfashionably early at 6:00 in order to have time to catch an 8:30 movie. EN is housed in what can only be called a cavernous space in the neighb between Tribeca and the Meatpacking District (I hereby coin the name "Tri-tip" to describe that area. Pass it on!). Since we were eating at such a godforsaken hour, there were only 4 or 5 people in a space that could house a Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade float. We stepped up to the maitre d' podium and said, "We're two." The hostess asked, "Do you have a reservation?" and the cavernous space echoed, "reservation...reservation...reservation..." We said, "No." Hostess then checked her log to make sure there would be enough space in their Canada sized restaurant for two small people. Then another host (for there were about four of them holding court at the podium) whispered, "Well, there's always room at the pspssspsssspp." So they seated us at the corner of a large square bar-seating area. Because we didn't deserve a table. And we didn't have a reservation. By the time we left, there were maybe 10 people in the place total. Very annoying.
(In case you were wondering about the food, it was expensive but good. I enjoyed the pork belly, the grilled chu-toro, and the warm tofu, but one serving is only good for one person. I can never have enough tofu.)
*Short stack -- a quick note on something that didn't inspire a full-length post
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