Highlands is suited to winter. On a recent bitterly cold Friday night, the new Scottish restaurant's windows, which look out on a quiet stretch of West 10th Street, were fogged up from the Scotch-laden breath of the crowd inside. Stepping into the boozy warmth, group after group were greeted by a young man in a flannel tartan shirt, who informed each party that the wait for a table was lengthy. And so the bar was crammed with people shedding coats and grabbing the whiskey list under the unblinking stare of a stag mounted to the wall, his antlers wreathed in... More >>>