You gave a lot of thought to your 2013 resolutions, and here’s what you decided on:
Fewer resolutions. More Beijing duck by the beach.
And maybe you’ll do a few jumping jacks afterward or something.
Here to help: somebody you’ve never heard of. Just kidding, it’s Mr. Chow, a bolder, beachier outpost of the Beverly Hills/international legend—and it’s now open.
Once upon a time—way back in 2012—Nobu’s Malibu outpost moved from the Malibu Country Mart to new digs right on the shore. You... might remember. And then the Country Mart got sullen. Started acting all moody and withdrawn. There was this aching void inside of it that could only be filled with noodles and Dungeness crab.
So what you’ll find there now is, oh, you know, an unassuming little neighborhood joint, Malibu-style. It’s a beautiful spot shimmering with serene whites and glints of sunlit silver. Kind of looks like you’re underwater. Ionized, triple-filtered, reverse-osmosis Malibu water.
You’ll grab a table right in the heart of it—surrounded by producers, surfing-app pioneers and trophy wives discussing their advice books about philanthropy—next time you have a beach day that suddenly turns into a high-stakes but faux-leisurely pitch meeting. (Happens more than people think.) And somewhere between the soup dumplings and the... more soup dumplings, you’ll probably find your director at the next table.
Then you can all go have a drink at Nobu to celebrate.
Fewer resolutions. More Beijing duck by the beach.
And maybe you’ll do a few jumping jacks afterward or something.
Here to help: somebody you’ve never heard of. Just kidding, it’s Mr. Chow, a bolder, beachier outpost of the Beverly Hills/international legend—and it’s now open.
Once upon a time—way back in 2012—Nobu’s Malibu outpost moved from the Malibu Country Mart to new digs right on the shore. You... might remember. And then the Country Mart got sullen. Started acting all moody and withdrawn. There was this aching void inside of it that could only be filled with noodles and Dungeness crab.
So what you’ll find there now is, oh, you know, an unassuming little neighborhood joint, Malibu-style. It’s a beautiful spot shimmering with serene whites and glints of sunlit silver. Kind of looks like you’re underwater. Ionized, triple-filtered, reverse-osmosis Malibu water.
You’ll grab a table right in the heart of it—surrounded by producers, surfing-app pioneers and trophy wives discussing their advice books about philanthropy—next time you have a beach day that suddenly turns into a high-stakes but faux-leisurely pitch meeting. (Happens more than people think.) And somewhere between the soup dumplings and the... more soup dumplings, you’ll probably find your director at the next table.
Then you can all go have a drink at Nobu to celebrate.
