Shadow 66 Seventeen years ago, long before Martha Stewart began chronicling her antiquing along Warren Street, or The Maker Hotel embarked on hosting slavishly devoted Vogue readers to Amtrak it up to Hudson, there was Astrid Jehanno, staking her claim on 6th Street with an outpost of her West Village café, Le Gamin. Astrid’s now a legend up here, due to her steadfast commitment to quality, her playful rapport with regulars, the Emma Stone-like rasp in her sexy alto voice and the deadly Thanos-like glare that emanates from her large blue eyes when asked something stupid like “How come you…