Dim street lights threw long shadows on graffitied walls, ghostly vapor veiled the alley… This is a perfect for a film noir, Hollywood crime drama popular in the 1940s and 1950s. Except, there was no crime, no detectives and no dead bodies. Instead, there was Freemans .

The low-profile Lower East Side restaurant scored high in terms of ambiance, service, food and WINE. The food was good, but the wine (a Merlot-Cab blend from Rome) was even better. Freemans’ charm, a great part of it, derived from the walk down the Freeman Alley — the journey to the end. I suspect other diners, like me, relish the thought that We, only we, are the privileged ones who know of Freemans’ existence.

“Not a lot of people knows this place. It’s great.”

“Yes, obviously only you, and me, and… well, all these other diners.”