One of my best friends, JP, and I tried to find this "perfect" restaurant near his place in Manhattan, but when we got there, the crowd was overwhelming, and the words "uber-trendy" went through my head.
"This is when you turn a corner and just keep walking," I said. I was on a mission. I needed food. GOOD food. Not just over-priced mediocre food, which can happen a lot in Manhattan. Don't get me wrong. There are tons of beautiful, artful, delicate, bold, intoxicating flavors in the city, but sometimes... well you eat okay food and pay a bloody arm and a leg.
So, when I say no to trendy and let things just happen, they usually happen in gastronomic success. JP and I didn't even break stride. We threw ourselves to fate, let the crosswalk turn green and kept walking.
After rounding a few corners, Les Halles appeared. Quaint, simple, with its cognac and ivy colored exterior saying "established but not stuffy". Maybe I'm naive. I haven't spent hours of research online to see what others have said about the restaurant. Maybe it was the hippest place in town several years over. But my gut, literally, said it was the place for us.