Dinner at Sambuca Jazz Café is sexy enough, but there's something about the low-lit dining rooms filled with faux-leopard cushions and soft, pillowy ceiling fabrics that makes us want to be here when we shouldn't be -- and with someone we shouldn't be with. Say, at lunch, with the boss's significant other. He or she is bound to appreciate the sensuous zebra pasta pocket filled with creamy lobster; or the carnal steak
frit, a hefty grilled hangar steak that comes on a bed of fried potatoes, all drenched in a strong peppercorn sauce. And then there's that thick, whipped-cream-consistency tiramisu to really whip things into a frenzy. Spring for a bottle of Italian sparkling, and put the Palm Pilot on autopilot. The order of the day may be business, but from here on out, it's all monkey business.