The sweet spot in the title of Amy Poeppel’s fourth novel refers to a grungy Greenwich Village bar, a beloved neighborhood fixture with battered wood floors, rickety tables and a pungent smell of beer. Its handsome owner is Dan, “a laid-back, decent, extremely chill” single dad who helpfully steers customers clear of the house wine. It’s a good name for a bar but an even better name for a warm and charming comedy of manners that hits every note just right.