Tocqueville

New digs larger, though still every bit as heirloom pearls and little black Chanel as before. Classy French salon with red-blooded American twist. Chilled soups, seared fish, glazed duck, WTF mozzarella ice cream. Chronological mindfuck of sixty-second steak served with 24-hour short ribs. Quiet, refined atmo, a bit stuffy, with long yellow curtains and private-party glass-walled mezzanine. Like your young-at-heart grandma, not without its charms.

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