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Although this American bistro has become an exemplar of Chelsea—its clientele a mixture of gay, cultured, and gay and cultured—The Viceroy was actually a bit of a vanguard back in 1993. That was just before an explosion of art galleries officially shifted the neighborhood from gay to gay and upscale. (If you look out the restaurant’s wall of windows you can still see the neighborhood’s less-than-fabulous past represented by way of an animal hospital and a car service.) But true to the restaurant's pure Chelsea pedigree, the space, the food, and even the staff are tastefully done up: the interior is all mirrors, dark wood, and mustard sponged walls with Art Deco trimmings; the menu favors hanger steak, pork chops, grilled salmon, and organic chicken. Should the lousy acoustics leave you fearful a nearby listener will overhear your shouted confession, come again for the brunch, which clinches the Viceroy’s status as the strip’s southernmost signpost before Banana Republic takes over. — Drew Pisarra