Timothy J. Stenovec Graffiti, 224 East 10th Street.

New York will never die so long as gifted, passionate people from all over the world feel that it is here, and nowhere else, that they must make their mark. These brave souls don’t recoil from the city’s impossible demands; they turn those limitations into virtues.

Jehangir Mehta, the chef-owner of Graffiti, a shoebox-sized restaurant at 224 East 10th Street, came to New York from Mumbai to learn how to cook. He opened Graffiti in 2007 after working as a pastry chef at some of the city’s more grandiose establishments, including Jean-Georges, and after creating the Candy Camp, where he taught children how to make pastry. A gentle soul whose convictions were culinary rather than mercenary, Jehangir wanted a place that felt true to him. He found an abandoned handbag store with holes in the floor and the ceiling, a space where he could start from zero. The rent was $3,000, which meant that he could hire a sous-chef and break even with 15 customers a night. He had lines out the door the first week. He hired two more people. And he continued to do exactly what he thought was right.
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