NEW YORK—Finding Dinnertable is half the fun.
Our search for the concealed restaurant leads us to The Garret East, an upscale cocktail bar in the East Village marked only by a raccoon head on the awning. We stumble around the space—sober, just lost—until a kind patron points us toward a nondescript curtain in the back. We gingerly push past it and find ourselves in a sloping hallway, dimly lit with a single lamp. At the end, stark and mysterious, beckons a ceiling-high door, painted to resemble tarnished white wood.
