When Mrs. C and I left the Whitney last Monday we had an hour to kill before our dinner reservation. Right around the corner from the museum, sort of jammed under the end of the Highline, is a restaurant called Santina. We went in and sat at the bar.
The place seemed to have some fizz. They gave us the drinks list and the first was a negroni. I love negronis. The price was absurd by STL standards but, what the hell, I love negronis. Down the hatch. (See last photo.) It was the best I've ever had, light on the Campari.
The staff whipped up all kinds of exotic cocktails. The one above looked like - what? - an avocado volcano. The place was fun and had an eclectic staff. The hostess on the right was taller than me. The wall art below is made of broken painted plates. We would go back to try the food.