His lunch, which he ate on his own in an enormous, empty dining room while reading a book under the absentminded gaze of the elderly maid, and the black-and-white gaze of his deceased wife looking out from photographs in ornate silver frames, was light: soup and a small portion of fish and mashed potatoes, some of which he would allow to go cold.

NEWYORKER: The Insufferable Gaucho

Add in a guarantee of fast, attentive service in an empty, beautifully minimalist dining room, and the place becomes an anti-destination destination.

NEWYORKER: Thirstbar��vin

In a neighborhood full of coffee shops, she had brought me to an empty room.

NEWYORKER: Mugglemarch