It’s close to midnight. You’re stepping out of a Broadway theater and into the neon hellscape of Times Square. You’re hungry, and too dignified (and/or sober) to wait two hours for a slice of Joe’s Pizza. The Olive Garden, Hard Rock Cafe, and Margaritaville don’t enthrall you, despite their ability to seduce out-of-town masses. The Rum House, a perpetually mobbed piano bar, will require you to beg and bribe your way in. What’s a patron of the Midtown-based arts to do? We say make a beeline for Grand Central Station….
