Richard Heyman's not so ordinary diner is named after the infamous intersection where it's situated. Not your typical beehive- wearing joint; sorry the tables aren't equipped with their own little juke- boxes, but at the rich mahogany tables (the wood or the people is up to you), you can get some American nosh with a Euro style flare. Wash it down with the house Capital Cosmo or a Mojito, while you stare through the enormous windows. The better to incessantly watch the Boulevard, my dear.

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