Subtlety is lost on some people. You've long suspected Jerry Kleiner—a guy whose best restaurants could make Elton John say "too much"—is one of them.
Well, his loss is your gain.
Introducing 33 Club, the latest addition to his velvet-ensconced empire, set to dazzle Old Town Monday. Since Kleiner's been uncharacteristically on the DL about this project—releasing the name last night—we've got your first look inside.
It's part-1930s European luxury ocean liner, part-1960s Playboy Club, yet with all the zebra-skin mirrors you've come expect. You'll sweep into the soaring grand ballroom of the main dining area, clad with mahogany panels and thick Oriental-rug opulence, ready for an evening of lobster-stuffed chicken and Prime Steaks. Best yet, an imposing staircase lets you make a dramatic entrance every time you return from the men's room.
You'll still recognize all the signposts of Kleinerland: gilded framed images of gorgeous women are everywhere (by the way, a trip to the men's room is highly advised for the, um, artwork). The handcrafted chairs are embellished with salvaged Louis Vuitton luggage straps. And you'll find the bar, with its deviled eggs, bacon-studded popcorn and rum cocktails made with slabs of fresh peaches, more than suitable for rounding up a little after-work trouble.
Thirty-three always was a lucky number for you.
Well, his loss is your gain.
Introducing 33 Club, the latest addition to his velvet-ensconced empire, set to dazzle Old Town Monday. Since Kleiner's been uncharacteristically on the DL about this project—releasing the name last night—we've got your first look inside.
It's part-1930s European luxury ocean liner, part-1960s Playboy Club, yet with all the zebra-skin mirrors you've come expect. You'll sweep into the soaring grand ballroom of the main dining area, clad with mahogany panels and thick Oriental-rug opulence, ready for an evening of lobster-stuffed chicken and Prime Steaks. Best yet, an imposing staircase lets you make a dramatic entrance every time you return from the men's room.
You'll still recognize all the signposts of Kleinerland: gilded framed images of gorgeous women are everywhere (by the way, a trip to the men's room is highly advised for the, um, artwork). The handcrafted chairs are embellished with salvaged Louis Vuitton luggage straps. And you'll find the bar, with its deviled eggs, bacon-studded popcorn and rum cocktails made with slabs of fresh peaches, more than suitable for rounding up a little after-work trouble.
Thirty-three always was a lucky number for you.
