During Secession's not-exactly-flawless first night, Gael Greene watched as eight or nine Upper East Side types seated at writer Bartle Bull's table shouted out, "We want our food. We want our food," before finally giving up and standing to leave. "Suddenly from the kitchen a marathon of runners actually running surged toward the almost emptied table. A few, but not all of the secessionists returned to join Bull." [Insatiable Critic]