Oct. 23 (Bloomberg) -- I thought there was a cigarette ban. Then I inhaled half a pack of secondhand fumes in a New York restaurant. The tarte flambee wasn't as smoky as the glowing Parliament Lights.

How very European. How very Bobo. It's a West Village townhouse teeming with two floors of beautiful people. The cocktails are strong and American. The fare is French and Italian. Steak frites. Gnocchi. Bouillabaisse. Tiramisu. Tarte tatin. Ashtrays.

Puffing is permitted on the patio. Wafts of nicotine and plates of suckling pig cross paths. Avoid such culinary pollution: Ask for an indoor table.

Don't avoid Bobo altogether. Two recent visits suggest pleasures to be had. But first understand the risks.

Risk No. 1: Bobo sounds like Babbo. Don't confuse the two. Babbo serves Mario Batali's al dente noodles. Bobo served mushy pasta on Thursday. Gnocchi with squid were soggy and fishy. Almond pappardelle clumped together like a plate of Pasta-Roni.

Risk No. 2: Walk-ins will wait. So make a reservation.

We spent 60 minutes jonesing for bar seats on Wednesday. Then we gave up. Hard-core foodies can eat standing; there are chairless tables in back. If you linger, knock back a cocktail. Drink service is efficient even when the lounge is packed.

Nice Libations

Don't miss Bobo's Mead, a riff on the classic Bee's Knees. Lavender honey adds a whiff of floral pungency to gin and lemon juice. Like whiskey sours? Have yourself a Concord sour. Grape syrup keeps it sweet. Lemon juice keeps it tart. American whiskey keeps it real.

Remember the Mai Tai? Probably not -- the drink makes you forget. Bobo makes the case for a well-balanced comeback. Rum. Almond syrup. Lime. Three ingredients. Twelve dollars.

Risk No. 3: You might be seated in the garden of carcinogens. Smokers lingered behind us throughout a two-hour meal. The other option was a table in the cramped lounge. No thanks. Request the second-floor dining room when booking a table.

Still hungry? Try the tarte flambee, a crisp cracker studded with salty bacon. Chestnut soup (a tad gritty) was warm and nutty. Suckling pig, not as tender or elegant as its counterpart at Fiamma, was rustic, chewy, meaty, with a smoky finish.

Bouillabaisse was small, manageable and only $22. Clean, clear flavors of snapper (moist), shrimp (sweet) and clams (briny) perfumed the shallow saffron broth.

Dinner for two plus wine cost $146. Note: A receptionist said Bobo restricts garden smoking when diners complain.

Bobo is at 181 10th St., at Seventh Avenue South. Information: +1-212-488-2626 or http://www.bobonyc.com.

Waiting for Gabriel

How long would you wait for a crab-cake sandwich? I spent 92 minutes walking, pacing, lingering, kneeling, sitting, standing and nursing a (single) alcoholic beverage for a (single) bar stool at the brand-new Market Table.

I'll gladly go the distance again for the creamy cake -- one of the better versions I've tried since a 2003 visit to the world-famous Faidley's in Baltimore.

The $19 patty is heavy with thumb- and knuckle-size chunks of sweet white crab. A liberal coating of mayo provides the necessary lubrication. A burnished gas-grilled roll supports the weighty burger.

Thank Mike Price. He's the Maryland-raised chef. Thank Gabriel Stulman. He's the guy who announces when your wait is over.

Sound familiar? Stulman was the gatekeeper at the Little Owl, where walk-in diners wait eons for Joey Campanero's pan- roasted chicken.

The Little Caveat

The Little Owl and Market Table are neighborhood spots with national followings -- Campanero's meatball sliders made the cover of Bon Appetit. The two venues have small, boxy rooms with large, sumptuous windows. Want a prime-time table at either?

Call one month in advance.

Half of Market Table actually is a market. Braised leg of lamb -- $20 on the menu -- is just $13 in a take-home Cryovac bag. No reservations needed.

Directions: Drop bag of lamb into boiling water. Wait 5 minutes. Remove. Cut open package. Result? Fall-off-the-bone mutton. (Hey, chef, more salt and less rosemary!)

Even better is the ready-to-boil turkey and gravy. The poultry is moist, almost creamy. The sauce is salty and spiked with thyme. Order seven -- one for each night of the week.

Don't forget the in-house fare. Tender gnocchi and beefy short ribs bathe in a parmesan broth. The pan-roasted chicken has a meaty interior and a thick, salty crust. They could sell the skin as a separate entree and charge just as much.

Bacon-wrapped scallops? They were sweet and rare. Roasted cod was light and flaky. Mascarpone ice cream -- dense and cheesy -- might induce further 90-minute waits.

Dinner for three plus a bottle of wine cost $179. Dinner for one cost $49.

Market Table is at 54 Carmine St., at Bedford Street. Information: +1-212-255-2100.

(Ryan Sutton is a writer for Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed are his own.)

To contact the writer of this story: Ryan Sutton in New York at rsutton1@bloomberg.net.

Last Updated: October 23, 2007 00:03 EDT