Restaurant Felix in Soho NYC.
Moules Frittes to die for and they're playing bachata music non stop.
(obsession with Aventura must be the happiest song in the world)
Best thing is the frenchie in the bar that cazually says au revoir when you leave cause he don't speak english, for real.
I know it's really silly, but I love that shit.
It beats the crap out of pastis any day of the week. (For lunch that is)
Coffee and a smoke outside afterwards in the almost spring-like sun. NYC at it's best, god dammit.