One evening as I was walking home from the Chelsea Market laden with kitchen pans and fresh vegetables, I found myself on the lovely and interesting 4th Street heading into The Village. Looking into the warm Corner Bistro I was envious of the friends enjoying a place where I thought I could be very comfortable. Moving on down the street I was surprised to be feeling homesick for familiar company.
Reaching the strangely edited intersection of W.12th St. and W.4th Street, I look to my left where I see an obviously old neighborhood restaurant sign in red and green neon. From the corner I can make out the word, Beatrice, and vow to find it again on my next foray in the neighborhood.
I have found it again and it is no longer the "old neighborhood" restaurant but the latest version of a new venture. After the recent vagaries of a hipster past it seems to have found a new hope in a Chef who even I am aware of. Perhaps, I'll find myself there before the next fashion takes over.
In its previous incarnation it was a notorious nightspot for the young, rich and fashionable. The neighboring residents applied typical West Village political pressure and got the place shut down due to late night/early morning noise and bad behavior (super models urinating from neighboring stoops onto the sidewalk).
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