Arriving at St. John for dinner can be a bit disorienting. You enter a weathered London building through an open garage door and walk to the back to find a crowded bar and bakery. You climb half a flight of stairs to the main dining room, which looks like a hospital commissary, all bare, whitewashed walls and simple tables covered with white butcher's paper.
For the full article, check out the new issue of Wine Spectator, on newsstands January 18, 2007.
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