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Ah, Mangia, the name
that is on the tip of lunching ladies' and executive assitants' tongues
everywhere. If you've ever had an in house client lunch meeting in
Manhattan, you've no doubt had a sandwich from this joint. If you've
ever had a yuppie, woman colleague between the ages of 26 and 42 who
asked you out for a "quick bite," you've no doubt come across the
yuppie, woman soup/salad/sandwich leader of NYC. Two steps up from
Cosí and ten steps up from your corner
deli, Mangia puts the gourmet into gourmet sandwich shop. What other
sandwich place in NYC has linen napkins at the tables? There ain't
none of those Stage Deli-type sandwiches either, with their heaping
piles of tongue, corn beef and pastrami. We're talking smoked salmon
with cream cheese and cucumber on pumpernickel, some sort of thing
that looks like roast beef but is called something else way more pretentious
with arugula and that other lettuce that tastes like black licorice,
and grilled portabello with a goat cheese and red pepper puree on
focaccia with an olive tapenade (are these real words?) These things
just fly off the trays at business meetings. Oh, and don't you pay
dearly for that catered service and fancier-than-most-places plastic
trays and serving ware. This handsome, upstairs location is packed
with mid town single ladies in ascots and designer shoes, with the
occasional effeminate male coworker uttering "yeah, but she's such
a bitch" loud enough to be heard over the already considerable din.
[MF]
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