Sometimes the NYC dining scene can feel like one giant cooking-competition show. Zero stars from the New York Times? You might as well pack your knives and go. Even more powerful (as Zagat surveyors already know) is when the dining public plays the ultimate judge: no butts in seats equals past-due rent checks equals “thanks
for playing.” And sometimes chefs just move on to kinder, greener pastures on their own accord. Here’s a look at nine noteworthy disappearing acts.