60 West 57th Street
For those who can’t conceive of their aphrodisiacs any way other than raw, The Four Seasons serves opaline-like marvels from the Pacific Northwest called Olympias that will make you giddy, if not horny. But Sam Hazen at Rue 57 has other ideas. He flash-poaches his slithery delights, places them in an infusion of thyme, olive oil, shallots, and sherry vinegar, and then tucks them in under a blanket of tomato compote, candied lemon, and cilantro. Suck one of these luscious babies up and see how long you want to keep your clothes on. Unfortunately, the restaurant is crowded almost every night. However, it does have a private room downstairs. Holds 70, actually, but we don’t want to go there.
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