In New York recently, the temperature hit zero degrees Fahrenheit, with 20 below windchills blowing through the canyons. My friends and I, needing a place to go, take our coats off, sit and drink and talk, decided on the Algonquin Hotel. It was the perfect place, with a seat in the window, and the shades of Dorothy Parker, et al. hovering nearby. My Manhattan was just the thing.