At 8 o'clock on a Saturday night, the Guggenheim's the Wright is as hopping as it's ever going to be, each table filled with polished over-50 Upper East Siders and a smattering of out-of-towners. The restaurant's bright white surfaces curve and bend, echoing Frank Lloyd Wright's museum design, and the flame-colored slats lining one wall are an art installation meant to evoke horizons. From the dark street outside, the smallish, 58-seat spot looks like a glowing pod. I think the interior is entertaining and rather beautiful—at least it's not another place covered in reclaimed wood, pre-Prohibition sconces, and pussy willows. My husband feels like he's in a "movie about the future," and not in a good way. There's no... More >>>