Lucien.
8/27/221
We arrive at Lucien, the traditional French bistro in Manhattan’s East Village, about 5 minutes before our 6 o’clock reservation. The host seats us at the table in the corner by the front window of the restaurant. I like this seat. It’s my favorite and I’ve never even been here. It’s my friend’s birthday and the two of us sit down and adjust to the restaurant as we drink our water and examine the drink menu. The restaurant is small and the atmosphere is energetic. The bar is glassy and elegant with subtle lights and mirrors - the adjacent wall covered with flash photos of celebrities and notable. “cool” people. People you might’ve heard of. Christopher Hitchens? Smoking a cig? Probably talking about George Bush? At a round table outside framed in the center of the wall? Giving. This is a cool place where cool people come to be treated coolly. If you know, you know. Do you know?
We order two Negroni’s to start. The cocktail menu is hand painted, though laminated, and features artists renderings of classic cocktails (Negroni, Old Fashioned, Vodka Gimlet, Martini, Margarita, etc.). There is also a full wine list which makes my eyes glaze over and I start thinking about money in French. Our waitress is very nice and pretty. I feel assured by the naivety in the air. I feel comforted. She is young and the staff in general is young and dressed “casually”. There is the occasional hard faced “LES head” who will wander by to reinforce a whiff of authority, but the place feels loose like liquid. The patrons look around at each other and pick out price points in clothes, names and titles, but mostly everyone is just wondering who everyone is. Things that nobody would know, but of course, I know…
My other friend arrives and we order our sexy food. We start with the Moules Mariniére Traditionnelle2, steamed mussels in white wine shallot sauce served with frites. The mussels arrive and they are lovely. The white wine sauce is the best part. We ask for some bread to be brought out and dip the baguette into the bowl. The service is relaxed and warm.
There seems to be a kind of “hip downtown zoomer vibe” here lol. Aliens appear with their wraparound sunglasses to park their UFO’s on the cross section of 1st Ave and East Houston to stop by and engage with the stylish and beautiful people. Outside there is a man with face tattoos smoking weed and having drinks next to his 2022 Dodge Charger SRT Hellcat Widebody, with the blue LED under glow and the WIFI. Young people surround him to take pictures and a few brave new kids want to sit down. The wait staff brings out two more tables to accommodate “the vibe”3. With their mullets and Stüssy shirts, they look baked. I catch a glimpse of fear. Hopefully they don’t say the wrong thing. Better not say anything at all.
The food arrives. I eat the Lapin á la Moutarde4, rabbit in Dijon mustard sauce, over pappardelle pasta. I don’t usually eat rabbit, and while I’m eating it I start to think about bunny rabbits. How cute they are and how soft they are which honestly makes me eat more excitedly. My friend gets the Saumon Grillé avec une Réduction de Porto et Basalmic5, grilled salmon with a Port wine and balsamic reduction over seasonal vegetables. It’s wonderful and has a large zig zag of balsamic reduction placed on top of it which makes me laugh at first. My other friend had the Little Neck Clams, White Wine, Fresh Garlic on a bed of Linguini6, a traditional Lucien dish which was also stunning. Overall the food was exceptional.
From the outside you’d think this could be a fickle place held up by a projected superficial image, but Lucien has a strong identity in its food. Interesting that it attracts people who are so obviously searching for an identity. The zoomer kids seem to be intimidated by this place and its strong gravity. I can feel it. The status is attractive – it’s a place where you’d like your photo hanging on the wall. They orbit around, this illusion of grandeur, but what sets it apart from other hip destination alien canteens, is the culinary foundation. A strong adherence to tradition. It’s funny to see the nostalgic jouissance7 that captures the imagination of the area and its fashion. Maybe one day we’ll look back at those brand-new Polaroid images of us, a pastiche of whatever time we wanted – creating images to outlast us. Pictures that will make the decades before us look like they never happened - the sheer weight of them all.
this song is not mine - it is so hot tho omg
28.00
I recognize one of the dudes. He’s talking to Bol Bol, son of Manute Bol, trying to convince him to smoke weed but Bol Bol stares around blankly totally ignoring him.
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priceless