DENIZENS OF THE NIGHT: THEIR FAVORITE HAUNTS
By Joseph Giovannini
THE early evening starts at the Odeon with elegant, spare, three- and four-course dinners served to a basically Brooks Brothers and Eurostyle crowd with, perhaps, a smattering of movie celebrities. But around 11 P.M. the rock music in the TriBeCa restaurant is turned up. Artist by artist, the bar deepens, and the floor becomes a billiard table of chance encounters - Jeffrey Smith, a freelance hairdresser, for example, after his roast duck, runs into Donald Sultan, an artist and client, who bumps into Louisa Chase, a painter, who caroms off Keith Sonnier, a sculptor, who sees Phyllis Kind, a gallery owner. By the time the green and pink neon clock sweeps past midnight, the restaurant has shed its sitdown formality and is well on its way to becoming a type of local, table-hopping artists' diner, but with white tablecloths. After 1:30 A.M., when the kitchen starts its lighter supper menu, the transformation is complete: hamburgers, fries and omelets appear. Occasionally there is a late-late rush, when a crowd arrives after a gallery opening or a special occasion at Area, the nearby club.