Constantly packed to the gills with attractive young professionals sipping cocktails and snacking on shaved Brussels sprout salads, Sylvain’s brick-wall interior feels simultaneously historic and cosmopolitan. Entered through a little alleyway, which leads to a classically New Orleanean interior courtyard, the place feels as if it’s been there for a century. Legend has it that the space was once a brothel, and a Sazerac is usually left out to appease the ghost of the deceased madam.