In rural America, men plunder the Earth's bounty, then craft meals from wild herbage and furry game like wily, agrarian MacGyvers. This being New York, you will pay someone else to gather/kill/be wily: Market Table.
Drawing on talent from Mermaid Inn and Little Owl, MT's a rustic synthesis of culinary phases -- a specialty market, which sells locally-grown produce and meats, and a restaurant, which prepares/serves meals to people too lazy to grocery shop. The market stocks everything from lobsters to olive oil to coffee, in a countrified setting of exposed brick, butcher blocks, and beams carved from a 125-year-old Clydesdale stable (summoning the prosaic clip-clop of locally grown Bud). Taking advantage of its adjacency, the 40-seat, casual-date-friendly restaurant plates up fresh grub from said market, e.g., pan roasted half chicken w/ sweet potato salad, sautéed skate wing meuniere, and bacon-wrapped diver scallops so plump, Ronnie James Dio would exclaim "Holy Diver Scallops!
MT's debuting in stages: the market opens this weekend, the restaurant mid-next-week. Hit up both, and you'll feel just like a yeoman farmer; then, this being New York, you will instruct your yeoman cab driver to whisk you to the nearest rub & tug.