Your Boss's Wife
If you must splash about in forbidden waters, discretion is key: In zombie apocalypses, as in adultery, it's best to stick to less populous territories. In balmy weather, I'd send you deep, deep into the wilds of Brooklyn—to a Jordana staple, Clemente's Maryland Crab House on the Sheepshead Bay waterfront. What a glorious dive. Sit on the massive deck out back and drain pitchers of beer while you watch boats strain against their tethers in Venice Marina. Don't be foolish and order anything other than the all-you-can-eat crabs doused in Old Bay. Some little necks, if you must. You won't see anyone you know—anyone you'd ever know, for that matter—so some under-the-table slight of hand can be safely administered.
If you have to stay on the island, try The Breslin (16 West 29th St.). The booths on the east wall of the restaurant have curtains that can be drawn for privacy, and it's in a hotel. Know what I'm saying?