Things weren't as easy once there. Despite having a reservation, we were told our table would not be ready for another couple of minutes. We were asked to wait by the bar. The initial fifteen minutes turned into thirty, those thirty into forty-five. I got very upset. And I told so to the maitre d'.
Had we not had an online reservation, they would have taken our phone number and we could have spent those same 45 minutes walking around the Sunday market. Instead, we were stuck
in the very crowded bar area , with plenty of time to compare Gaslight with its excessively similar New York predecessor Pastis. Both places are decorated as neo-French bistros; white tiles, old mirrors, table cloth-type napkins, small round coffee tables. Gaslight even has the same menu layout as Pastis. But, while Pastis is cool, hip and crowded with models from the many agencies around the Meat Packing District, Gaslight is dark, noisy and crowded with baby showers, after-wedding brunches and a few bohemian types.
Complaining to the maitre d' had its effect and we got one of the "good" tables -a booth (only reserved for large parties)- at a bad location: in front of the kitchen and right next to the hallway that ends in the bathrooms. But the other tables are so small and there is so little space in between them, that any booth would beat them. I guess we had more traffic around us, but it was not terrible.
Now to the good news. Our server was great and he immediately put a smile in our faces. The brunch menu was very tempting and both Diego and I found at once what we wanted to order. He had one of the day's specials: lobster eggs Benedict with a bed of spinach. Despite its small size, Diego was happy. He downed it with a Bloody Mary, which was ok but not memorable. For a brunch menu with croque madames, croque monsieurs and seven egg-based plates, I went with an unexpected choice: Caramelized Banana Crepes with almond cream. As with Diego's choice they were also delicious albeit small -more like a dessert than a main, but the dough was perfect and the cream had tiny almond pieces that gave it a really nice texture.
Paying for the meal was also fun: our server brought a
postcard with the check and told us they would mail it to anywhere in the US. We immediately thought of Pablo, our New York-based friend, who had been many times to Pastis with us.
Gaslight is certainly no Pastis, and they have many kinks to work out (i.e. some lox and bagel in the menu!) but we were certainly be back next time we are missing the NYC locale.