On almost any given night at Peels, the two-story restaurant is as crowded as a house party after finals—a jostling, buzzy scene where you might get awkwardly chatted up by a guy brandishing a beer or take an accidental ponytail-to-the-face from a long-legged girl. Reservations aren't taken for a party under six, so you've got to wedge yourself into the bar upstairs, which looks out on the corner of the Bowery and East 2nd Street, and bide your time with a Sazerac and the boppy '80s New Wave music. Your table is unlikely to open up anytime soon, so watching the various tribes of attractive people... More >>>