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But it still rules. Even though Brooklyn has become so popular, Manhattan still maintains its unwavering charms. Maybe it's the farmers market at Union Square. Or maybe it's the packed bar at Blue Ribbon Brasserie at midnight. In any case, no matter how many frat boys, hedge fund jerks, expensive strollers, rich euro brats, and Jessica Simpson-types have been vomited onto the landscape, it still is a great place... despite the heat.
I have been working in both Brooklyn and Long Island, in addition to (mostly downtown) Manhattan. Evenings have been spent at a Yankees game (they were brutally crushed by the otherwise hapless Orioles), in the soon-to-be demolished Yankee Stadium. This was followed by a late dinner at Babbo, where hype was brilliantly matched by execution: lamb's tongue salad, black pasta with rock shrimp and, finally, sweet breads. And last night... Les Halles. A last-minute change in plans had it that I was seated alone at the bar, finishing frisée aux lardons, and tartare et frites. Unfortunately, a loutish older man sidled up next to me and started complimenting me on my glasses, which really ruined the solitary magic of the moment. Fortunately he was asked to leave due to his inability to pay for his drink. Anyway, a quick dose of Armagnac and I was on my way. Now, I know it's touristy, and that Bourdain's popularity is responsible for most of that. But its position on Park Ave. South keeps it a little bit protected, and you can still walk in off the street and get a place at the bar.
And it's air conditioned.