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the only restaurant that matters
Inside The Waverly Inn
At 9 p.m. last night, Bank Street was humming with black Mercedeses, all idling for the air conditioning. "It's gotta be cold when my client comes out," said one driver. A bright red motorcycle with Diplomat plates screeched to a halt and an olive-skinned man bounded off into the most literarily significant inn since the Tabard. As prescribed by the Post's Mandy Stadtmiller, we had made reservations through Jon Kelly, Graydon Carter's assistant. More »
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