Les Deux Gamins
This venue is closed.
This faded French bistro is languidly rooted in the Village’s bohemian past. Black leather banquettes are occupied by loquacious arty regulars, who quaff wine within a dining room that’s contentedly more flea market than upmarket: Mirrors are spidery with age, and coyly empty picture frames hang on the smudged walls. The kitchen turns out respectable renditions from the French canon, like aromatic escargots (which arrive sans shell) and an impressive rib eye so juicy that faint threads of blood seep across the heavy white plate. In the balmy months, Les Deux Gamin’s windows are flung wide like welcoming arms, as befits its come-as-you-are vibe. When dusk falls, a D.J. spins slow jazz and soul (think “Sexual Healing”), making for drowsy evenings where time seems to slow down if not outright stop.
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