New Yorkers have been inundated with food halls and indoor marketplaces in the past year, bringing a “European” flair to indoor shopping and eating (as compared to the more American mall experience). Some have been more successful than others. Case in point: Eataly.

This vast food hall pioneered by mega-chef Mario Battali is the super-sized reincarnation of the Torino, Italy original mecca of Italian food. Navigating Eataly during lunchtime is not a feat for the weak, trying to actually shop there is almost impossible due to the crowds of people eating (or waiting to eat) at the various food counters located throughout the space. From a pizza station to a gellateria to a vegetable counter, Eataly offers something for everyone, all of high quality (and price!). Their passion for all things Italian is evident by every little detail; they even have the only ATM by an Italian Bank in the city. I have also been impressed by how they managed to “teach” New Yorkers new behaviors: the idea of standing up at high counters while you enjoy your wine and cheese is not an easy one to enforce on this city’s discerning denizens; yet this area is packed of standing crowds drinking and nibbling.

Every time I’ve set foot in this place, I find myself distracted by the variety of goods, the sensory experience of watching food prepared and cooked and the incredible energy of the place. This is the rare case of an American re-invention of a European success that stands on par with the original.

On the other hand, we have a rather unsuccessful attempt at an urban “marketplace.” The Limelight Marketplace would be a mall if only New York had the kind of real estate middle America has for these soulless shopping monstrosities. But instead, the developers of the Limelight took over a sacred institution (it was literally built as a church!) that housed the legendary Limelight club, and turned it into a cramped shopping experience with chain stores that have 1/20 the space they’re used to and a selection that lacks the cohesion of a specialized marketplace or the inspired curation of a successful one.

This space would have worked well as a food hall or a specialized marketplace rather than the chosen format of mismatched shops and generic decor. The grandeur of the building is hidden behind lacquered drywall and the (in)famous nooks and crannies of this ex club heaven are closed up or stuffed with generic delights from places like It’s Sugar.

Americans love to shop, and it’s sort of true that they’ll shop anywhere, but Eataly has proven that curation and specialization create an experience beyond shopping, while the Limelight Marketplace has put its eggs in the generic basket of uninspired retail experiences that fade away from people’s memory and eventually from the retail map.