A few years ago, a friend and I spent an evening at Mistral next to a table of drunks behaving so boorishly it nearly ruined our dinner. On our way out, my friend was compelled to ask the unfailingly polite server how the man could stand it. “I just smile wide and think of the tip,” he replied.
No one seems to be feeling their oats quite so much these days. The celebrities are fewer and farther between. But business is still steady, with a younger crowd than one might expect, a mix of diners here for work and for pleasure. Once the hottest place in town, the restaurant is now a mainstay. Time doesn’t stand still. Evolution happens.