Inside is like stepping outside. Except for the warmth, I wouldn’t be surprised to look up and see the evening sky. There are trees and plants, and they blend together as though we’re sitting in someone’s backyard, rather than in a restaurant with New York outside its doors. When we sit, I notice the small china plates we have – and that ours don’t always match the other tables. There’s a small vase on the table, shaped like a square bottle of perfume, filled with greens and tiny blue flowers. Even though spring hasn’t quite arrived yet, you think it might have, and someone forgot to tell you where to find it.