"Oh, you must. They are divine," he says, heading towards the restaurant. They pass a saxophone player on the corner, wailing out jazz tunes of love and sorrow with an open case in front of him, where a few copper and silver-ish coins can be seen.

The restaurant's seating is all outdoors, technically, though covered with a sturdy roof. One goes to the window to order, but must hope to find a table amid all the hustle and bustle of other people, first.