Becoming a regular at a New York restaurant is an art. To earn the experience of walking into one’s preferred establishment and being greeted by name, seated immediately, and offered “the usual” is a trophy that very few have the tact, savvy, and dedication to win.
There is no one path to this coveted prize. Consider the SoHo resident who routinely brings ice-cold bottles of water to the host stand at Balthazar in search of preferential treatment, the start-up founder who sends late-night pizzas to the staff at Tribeca hotspot the Blond every few weeks, or the keto-dieter who ascended to first-name basis with a Union Square farmers' market vendor by buying “illegal” raw milk under the table. Every regular has their own process, but a few time-honored rules of thumb emerge: Visit at least once a week. Order consistently. Leave a healthy tip, of course.
These days, the dominance of apps like Resy threatens to snuff out regular culture. Reservations have become a cottage industry, with enterprising college students selling coveted tables for thousands of dollars on a burgeoning secondary market. But fear not—you can still bypass the host stand the old-fashioned way. Below, five New Yorkers dish on the rituals and relics of the regular lifestyle.
Lucien Smith
Artist, 35
Neighborhood: Chinatown
Restaruant of choice: Dimes, 49 Canal Street
“Dimes is like a portal. I come here to get my matcha oat milk latte and a peanut butter cookie once or twice a week.
I remember hearing that Sabrina De Sousa [Dimes’s co-owner] was starting a place in Chinatown back in 2013. What we now know as Dimes Deli was just Dimes back then, and it was really cute. Dimes probably grew into something they didn’t intend for it to become. But that’s like art, or like anything organic—if you keep watering something and giving it love, it will grow.
The fact that this area was crowned ‘Dimes Square’ is tongue-in-cheek. I’m a pretentious motherfucker, I’m an artist. I love shit like this—the blending of the mainstream and subcultures. Dimes is a really interesting case study in that way.”
Daniel Arnold
Photographer, 44
Neighborhood: Chinatown
Restaurant of choice: Halal Cart, Broadway (changing locations)
“I’m not trying to congratulate myself here, but I just happened to walk by this guy’s cart as he was being robbed. I made a video of it, helped him communicate with the police, and gave him Band-Aids and some antibiotic ointment. This was maybe a year ago.
I felt bad for him because I had seen him getting hassled before. He’s kind of a sitting duck, and his cart’s earnings are his family’s whole income. This one time I happened to be there when it escalated.
So now, he moved his cart to SoHo, and I see him every day. We wave and he flags me down, ‘My friend! Take a drink! Have some food!’ Once in a while I’ll take a seltzer to be a good sport. His food is great. I get chicken and rice.
But really for me, it’s just a microcosm of the great pleasure of New York. I spend so much time in transit that, on some level, I’m a regular all over town. This is one of those great indications of that."
Andrew Kuo
Artist, 46
Neighborhood: Bed-Stuy
Restaurant of choice: Great N.Y. Noodletown, 28 Bowery
“My parents used to take me into Chinatown as a kid. As a teenager and later in my 20s, Noodletown was the late-night spot. As places changed and closed down, it went from a standard procedure, utilitarian restaurant to one of the best places around.
I go three or four times a month. If you have an adventurous friend, you can get the good stuff like soft-shell crab, and the crispy noodles are amazing.
If you’re by yourself, you get the noodle soup for eight bucks, and you’re in and out in 15 or 20 minutes. There’s a grouchy guy who knows me there, and a couple servers, but they leave you alone with your thoughts and your food.
I get social anxiety sometimes, and it’s nice that they do not want to chit-chat at all. There’s this tension between sympathy and judgment sometimes when you eat alone, but that is not the situation at Noodletown."
Roger Jazilek
Painter, Photographer, Bartender at Paul's Baby Grand, 74
Neighborhood: East Village
Restaurant of choice: Lucien, 14 1st Avenue
“I’ve been coming here for 26 years, since it was a small, mom-and-pop French restaurant. You could always get a table, and there was no music. It has changed a lot since then. Zac, Lucien’s son, modernized it when he took it over and made it a very cool place. And I’m cool, so that’s why I’m here.
When I eat at Lucien, I usually have octopus and the French soup. It’s based on the Marseille soupe de poisson traditionnelle.
I worked here for a short time as a bartender, but I didn’t last long. I got fired by Zac’s mum. But it’s my local place, and I’m a Francophile. The food is awesome; it has never changed. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be in business.
I usually come twice a week. I’m a creature of habit; I never leave this eight-block radius. The only time I go uptown is to go to Bemelmans Bar. When friends say to me, ‘Let’s go someplace besides your usual places,’ I ask, ‘Where?’ and they say, ‘Oh, a place on 17th Street.’ I’ll say, ‘No, I’m not going uptown.’”
Nicole Miller
Fashion Designer, “I founded the business 42 years ago, which makes me 39.”
Neighborhood: Tribeca
Restaurant of choice: Pastis, 52 Gansevoort Street
“I’m at Pastis as much as twice a week. I always like to sit in a booth if I’m not with a larger group. I used to go to the old Pastis too—I loved it there, and I was sad when it closed.
I go to Balthazar, Pastis, and Minetta Tavern, and they’re all excellent. But I like the Pastis steak the best—it’s more like a hanger steak, and I like the big slab of butter on it. I also love to go for breakfast—it’s always very chill—but I probably go there for lunch the most. It’s easy for me to get there from my office.
I’ve been friends with Keith McNally [the restaurateur behind the original Pastis and a partner in the new location] for a long time. I’ve known him since he was the manager of One Fifth. These past few years I’ve gotten closer with him, and I certainly read his Instagram! He’s fearless. Very fearless.
Restaurants are better when they’re more personal. When I go to a restaurant and it’s impersonal, I don’t feel like going back.”
