The oppressive triple digit heat that has been sweeping Manhattan for the past week has turned us into lazy Southern Gentlemen- laying back, sipping cool cocktails. Last night, a bottle of Rose bubbly dripping from the ice bucket seemed the only solution in continuing to forge through the wave. We settled into the slightly crammed (let's be generous and say: intimate) layout of tables, vaulted ceilings and amber lights at Brasserie Les Halles.
The bar keep seemed disinterested and did not refill our draining glasses-- but the swooping red, white and blue fabric added charm- as well the reminder of Bastille Day approaching. We had planned to stay for small plates, but there was clearly no air conditioning- a detail- noted from our own discomfort, as well the surrounding tables of patrons methodically wiping the sweat from their brows. (I'll return for steak frites on a cooler day).
Image: NY Mag