Behind every good man, there’s a good weekend.
In this order: grab a friend. Share unlimited sangria pitchers over tapas for $35. Then, take in a heavyweight boxing championship from a VIP suite, at 70% off. And finally, take 50% off a private plane that’ll fly you to your next vacation. Montauk or Nantucket—decisions, decisions...
Think of all the days you’ve gone without the simple pleasure of a gin-espresso cocktail. Or a $900 cognac-coffee-champagne concoction. No, don’t. It’s too painful. But no worries—this place is here to take the hurt away. And to meet all your bottomless-mimosa brunch needs. Which seem comparatively simpler.
Mission Chinese: they’ve recently awakened your lust for thrice-cooked Chinese bacon. And now it’s totally okay if that lust kicks in at around, say, noon. The charitable San Francisco transplants are now dishing out spicy Szechuan on a lunchly basis. Bacon lust knows no hour.
Perfectly cut summer shirts. Antlers. Lightweight ties. Weekend bags that’ll outlive you. Oars. You’re going to find three of those things at the first brick-and-mortar outpost of Ernest Alexander in SoHo. Nah, just messing with you. You’re going to find all five.
This is an opportunity that will never come again: you, in the Hamptons, at an equestrian-themed supper club, sipping on mint juleps while a horse attempts to make racing history. But, wait for it... you can obtain more mint juleps by simply saying the horse’s name.
You remember it like it was yesterday. Someone in the distance was standing on a chair, dancing to Justice, while you brunched on beef tartare and an elegant champagne sparkler, thinking that everything was as it should be. Well, Bagatelle is back. Thankfully, with no illusions about having grown up.
