This weekend we were combing Broadway for an outfit that would get us into Upstairs, Danny A’s club on the second floor of Café Bari (and the location of Diddy’s most recent fisticuffs), when we passed the café/club itself and saw its once intimidating velvet rope doing its day job: guarding a display table of rather foul-looking dishes. Mind you, this wasn’t kitschy plastic display food like in Japan, but an actual burger, pizza, and pasta exposed to the elements all day. It took away whatever remaining luster this place had.
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