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Possibly one of the
oddest restaurant spaces in Manhattan, this Devon and Blakely franchise
is shoved in a glass cage at the bottom of some subway-looking stairs
next to a subterranean eating patio. I kept waiting for a bleeding
Darryl Hannah in a plastic raincoat to come smashing through the windows
and flop dying at my feet like a drowning fish. Instead I was faced
with a flaccid eatery filled with absolutely nothing to eat. It had
been a while since I'd been to one of these "boutique" chain
lunch joints (the oxymorons keep on coming), and I apparently didn't
read my own site before wandering the half-block from work to get
here. I must have had a stroke that day. I mean, what the hell did
I think was keeping me from eating at this place considering its utter
and complete convenience? Other than past experiences with the franchise,
fear of rogue replicants, confusion over its resemblance to one of
those little tram booths that sit inside the Lincoln Tunnel (into
which they always stuff like the fattest, sleepingest cop on the PA
force), I blame my negative feelings on my pure--and well documented--hatred
of soup as a lunch substitute. And D&B gets all cutesy with the
broth, making me just want to shout it out loud that soup can have
just as much fat and calories as anything else that's terrible for
you, but still leaves that empty feeling that can only be filled by
a giant cookie, chocolate covered brownie or two slices of your co-worker
birthday-boy- Joey's Little Pie Company carrot cake. So by the transitive
property, soup makes you fat. Whatever your opinion on having what
the soup council is branding "the other liquid lunch,"
I don't suggest you come here to get it. I'll just try to remember
that myself the next time I run across one of these places whose time
has passed it by like tears in rain. [MF]
Other Locations:
Devon
& Blakely (Midtown East)
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