There’s an episode from The Sopranos’ first season that I couldn’t shake after dinner at classic Williamsburg Italian restaurant, Bamonte’s: Teenage daughter Meadow comes down to breakfast and an age-old debate about evolving societal standards breaks out, the highschooler urging her parents to get with the times (“It’s the 90s…!”). “Yeah, but that’s where you’re wrong,” her father, Tony says and points to the window. “You see, out there it’s the 1990s, but in this house it’s 1954.”

Cigarette machine by the door, valet parking outside, staff in black bow ties, a menu with $xx pricing, a sign asking gentlemen to remove their hats; outside of Bamonte’s, it’s Williamsburg 2025, where real estate development is an unstoppable juggernaut, luxury is democratized, and gastronomy is as much sci

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