Wherever mischief is, you’ll find the weekend.
This Saturday, break out your mallet for unlimited blue crabs (and beer) at the epic Hammer & Claws feast in Chelsea. Equally epic: you and 19 friends, watching the game in Jay-Z’s private VIP room. And if you (and a date) need a night of Russian indulgence, do it at Pravda.
Ken & Cook. You know the place—quality raw bar. Yeah. Well, next time you’re in there (preferably late), hang an immediate right. What you’ll find: mirrors, beads, a disco ball and a small group of devastatingly attractive people just partying like it’s... a year in which partying is popular.
You’ve always been a strong proponent of truth in advertising. And lamb tartare. So odds are you’ll be fond of Porsena Extra Bar, an extension house of Mediterranean antipasti and vinos right next door to the pasta virtuosos at Porsena. See, that’s where the extra comes in.
Midtown. Picture an elevator door opening. Cue an angelic choir and a bright, soft light. Yeah, you’re on the just-renovated third floor at Bergdorf Men’s. It’s a wide-open, floor-to-ceiling-windowed ode to the Barbours, the Gitman Bros. and the Belstaffs. It has its own jeans loft. You don’t have one of those.
Like a rose that grew from concrete, a brunch is growing from... a place on the Upper East Side. Your Sunday-morning-to-afternoon hours can now consist of tiny spoons of osetra, steak frites with eggs and veal-stock Bloodys. Your beverages have been a little light on veal lately.
The season of the lobster roll is dead. Long live the lobster roll. This place is slinging lobs in roll and mac form, along with clam pizzas and chipotle fish tacos from the confines of a fish-netted little piece of nautical-ness in the East Village. Sounds almost sensual.
