![]() ![]() The blond-wood tables are bare, the room stripped of adornment, and the ambience as contemplative as a Buddhist temple. Add the fact that many of the customers are demure, deep-pocketed Manhattan food pilgrims, and you have one of the more serene dining spots in this generally unplacid part of town (plates, $18 to $32). Paul Liebrandt’s restaurant sits by a peaceful park in a noise-absorbing space off the lobby of a mostly deserted hotel.
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