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Yes, I know it's a
formula, but for me it never gets old. Of course sticking the French
bistro thing a la Pastis,
Balthazar
and Lucky
Strike on the Lower East Side is somewhat akin to putting a wine
bar on 116th street. It's not to say the neighborhood can't support
it, but to risk invading hipster central with institutional yuppieness
definitely tows the line. Thank god I don't give a crap about what
people think. And thank God Schiller's and its French onion soup,
steak frites and reasonably priced wine list exist. I mean where else
in this 'hood am I going to be able to chill in relative comfort,
surrounded by architected wear and hot waitresses while powering down
delicious beef and fried potatoes next to couples and foursomes who
bought their clothes not from a vintage store or Salvation Army? The
surroundings will seem familiar if you've ever been to any of Peter
McNally's aforementioned restaurants, with its white subway tile,
white marble and worn cafe mirrors, but like those places the atmosphere
and food won't disappoint. There was an amazing lack of attitude,
and very casual, helpful guys taking names and controlling the flow
of folks in and out. Our server was prompt and friendly, and the prices
were really very decent. It seems like sometimes we pay a premium
in New York to be inconvenienced, but Schiller's provides what is
quickly becoming the old, comfortable stand-by. [MF]
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