66 may not be lucky thirteen for the ubiquitous chef- entrepreneur Jean-Georges if the Chinese restaurant doesn't get much much tighter. Although lovely with Vivienne Tam designed uniforms, Ovaltine as an ice- cream flavour, and sleek architectural design by Richard Meier, the disorganised and disgruntled service at this TriBeCa outpost needs to go. When we were there, our reservation kept getting pushed back. An hour and a half later, our table was "accidentally" given away by one of the hostesses. Then the maitre d' told us he'd made a mistake and he should never have accepted our reservation in the first place. Gee thanks. Once relegated to the communal table, our waiter, upon discovering we were food critics, invited himself over and over again to be our dinner guest at our next review. The fantastic short ribs, unusual take on sesame noodles and near perfect dim sum, were overlooked in our eagerness to get him to leave us alone to eat. With Chinatown so close, once the novelty wears off, outside of Renée Zellweger and Richard Gere (guests at the Vogue party), why pay $100 when you could pay $10 for the real thing? Only a chopstick's toss away. At least in Chinatown, the Chinese wouldn't be caught dead serving their black bass with green tea tempura breading and sweet and sour sauce. And if they did, it would at least be called 88.

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