Why Some of New York’s Snazziest Dining Sheds Are Headed for the Dumps

This is Street Wars, a weekly series on the battle for space on New York’s streets and sidewalks.

On a breezy Friday evening at Indochine, a restaurant on Lafayette Street in Manhattan, light from the setting sun filtered through wooden shutters as a young woman sipped a lychee saketini and a party of six ordered a bottle of rosé.

Leaves on dozens of potted plants swayed. Lively music wafted from speakers. As a waiter approached with a plate of fried spring rolls, a shaggy dog walked by and looked inside, curiously.

And then the harsh sound of a fire truck horn momentarily drowned out all chatter and thoughts.

Because we were not actually inside Indochine, but instead in the restaurant’s “tropical cabana,” an elaborate dining shed erected on the sidewalk in the wake of the coronavirus pandemic.

This is not one of the misshapen, graffiti-covered rat graveyards you see around the city. It has sliding doors, heaters, ceiling fans, speakers, security cameras and bamboo-caged light fixtures. The music is from a calmer playlist than the one inside the restaurant. Under the lush living greenery lining the back wall, there are cushioned benches, with banana leaf-print throw pillows.

It is a sexy, transportative space to feast on sticky rice and spare ribs.

And its days are numbered.