Yesterday I had a breakfast meeting at Pastis in the Meatpacking District. It’s one of New York’s iconic French bistros – hard-to-book, pitch-perfect decor, great food, and frequent celeb-sightings. But it’s often overrun by tourists. The last time I was there for brunch, about three years ago, the server asked where we were from, and I vowed never to brunch there again.
But, weekday breakfast is another story. With no reservations required, Pastis is relaxed and extremely civilized. Smooth cappuccinos and flaky croissants made it a tasty warm-up for our French sojourn.
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