If you’ve been following the Manhattan restaurant scene lately, you’re no doubt aware of the hype surrounding La Esquina and Freemans. The former serves Mexican food, the latter fairly traditional American, but what they have in common is an air of secrecy, provided by their somewhat camouflaged locations: Freemans is at the end of an obscure Lower East Side alleyway, while La Esquina is situated underneath a Soho taqueria, behind a door marked “No Admittance” and “Employees Only.”

Somewhat predictably, this anti-presence has created a huge buzz for both restaurants, which was surely not unintentional. As a result, these places that can barely be seen have become places to be seen. Such is the power of clandestine exclusivity: In a crowded city, we all like to feel like we’re in on a secret, even if it’s a secret that everyone’s talking about.

But anyone with a decent creative imagination can manufacture secrecy and use it as a marketing strategy, as Freemans and La Esquina have done. Much rarer, and therefore more special, are places with genuine secrecy. These venues hide in plain sight, quietly doing their thing, without knowing or caring about media hype or customer buzz. And you’ve probably walked by some of them without even realizing it. Here are some of my favorites:

La Nacional (239 W. 14th St., 212-243-9308): If you peer through the garden-level windows at this unassuming brownstone on 14th Street – and if the curtains aren’t fully drawn, as they sometimes are – you may be able to see some people eating. But the setting looks more like someone’s home than a restaurant, and there’s little on the outside to suggest a commercial establishment. Go down through the lower-level doorway, however, and you’ll find that you’ve entered the Spanish Benevolent Society, founded in 1868 as a gathering place for Spanish expats and travelers – and for anyone else lucky enough to walk in. There’s a bar, lots of lively chatter en Espanol, and most importantly, a world-class paella ($15), packed with shrimp, mussels, clams, squid, and chicken. It may not be Spain,but it sure feels a long way from New York.

American Legion Post No. 398 (248 W. 132nd St., 212-283-9701): As their members pass away, more and more American Legion and VFW halls are trying to raise additional revenue by opening their doors to the public. All of them tend to be fascinating places, but this one, situated on the garden floor of a brownstone in Harlem, is extra-special: On Sunday evenings, there’s live jazz and excellent soul food, including fried chicken, pork chops, fried whiting, pigs’ feet, and curry goat, all priced under $10. The speakeasy-ish atmosphere is precisely the sort of vibe that so many professional restaurateurs try (and fail) to achieve.

Rudar (34-01 45th St., Long Island City, Queens, 718-786-5833): If you saw a windowless brick building with a small green awning inscribed with “United Miners S.C.,” you’d probably think it was a union hall or a small manufacturing business. But if you go in (if the door’s locked, just buzz – someone will let you in), you’ll find a busy bar scene. Behind the bar is a stairway leading to a long, low-ceilinged hallway, which finally deposits you in a lovely dining room. This is Rudar, an Istrian social club that, despite all appearances, is open to the public. The menu is written on a chalkboard in Croatian, but your waitress will happily explain the food, which has Serbian, northern Italian, and Hungarian influences (a reflection of Istria’s incredibly complex political history). The best bets are octopus with potatoes and garlic butter ($17), the ground-meat sausages known as cevape ($10), and fuzi, a large bowtie pasta served with a rich veal sauce ($5 for a half order). For dessert, don’t miss the excellent crepes, stuffed with your choice of jelly, chocolate, or walnut paste ($1.25 each).

Mezzanine Lounge (inside the Hotel Roger Williams, 131 Madison Ave., 212-448-7000): Some hotel restaurants are aggressively marketed to the local population; others, like this one, are known only to the hotel’s guests. And that’s a shame, because this charmingly colorful space – located on a balcony one flight up from the main lobby – is a great place for an inexpensive nosh. The crabcakes ($11) and corn fritters ($7) aren’t just better than most hotel food – they’re better than most of what’s available in the neighborhood. And the burger ($12) is first-rate. When the check arrives, you’re supposed to write your room number on it, so they’re obviously not expecting the local crowd. Which is all the more reason to check out this endearing oasis.

Taken as a whole, these venues offer reassuring confirmation that there’s still plenty left to discover in New York, even for the jaded foodies who think they’ve seen it all.