Hunter S. Thompson once wrote, “The only way I can handle New York City is to live there. It’s a disastrous place to visit.” The outlaw author had a point: trips to the Big Apple have a way of gutting bank accounts, testing the limits of hepatic fortitude, and short-circuiting the nervous system. But with all due respect to the Godfather of Gonzo, a jaunt to New York done properly is even more fun than mescaline and a .44 Magnum fired into the midnight sky over the Rockies.
Manhattan might be a concrete jungle, but it’s also mankind’s lushest garden of earthly delights. It’s an unrivaled carnival of sublime gastronomy, mind-bending nightlife, and glamorous hotels. If you splurge with savvy and intent, you won’t regret blowing dough like Tyson after a prizefight.
Here’s how to visit New York properly—indulgent, excessive, and unapologetic. If you want moderation, vacation in Sarasota. I am going to break this up for you. This edition will be where to eat and drink. Tomorrow, come back to see where to stay and what to do.
Where to Dine
The Big Apple is a foodie town. There is no way around it. It doesn’t matter what style of cuisine you enjoy, or even what kind of fusion of multiple kinds of food you enjoy, there is somewhere in the city to satiate your pallate. Here is my favorite haunts to keep your tummy happy with an elevated experience.
Gabriel Kreuther
Johnny Motley / Gabriel Kreuther
Like The French Laundry or Sukiyabashi Jiro, Gabriel Kreuther is a restaurant you should try at least once before you die. Helmed by the eponymous Alsatian super-chef, it stands among New York City’s hallowed temples of haute French cuisine.
Arrive early and settle into the burnished wooden bar for an Herb Sacrée, an aperitif of green Chartreuse enlivened with fresh mint and a whisper of celery. The tasting menu shifts with the seasons and chef Kreuther’s whims, but the kitchen spares no luxury. Expect a parade of foie gras, truffles, and pristine seafood, each dish executed with the meticulous precision of a Delta Force operation.
Splurge on the wine pairing—Gabriel Kreuther has one of the finest cellars in the city. It’s like seeing The Rolling Stones: you’ll remember the thrill long after you’ve forgotten the bill. And if you see Paul, the devilishly rakish general manager, send him my salutes.
Grand Brasserie
Johnny Motley / Grand Brasserie
With 400 tables beneath the soaring, coffered ceilings of Grand Central Station’s Vanderbilt Hall, Grand Brasserie epitomizes New York’s unmistakable vim.
Start with an ice-cold martini and the seafood tower—a glistening spire of clams, oysters, and crudo. From there, proceed to duck confit and lobster Thermidor, a near-forgotten fin de siècle delicacy. After dessert, wander over to the lounge behind the restaurant for a nightcap. The towering shelves of whiskey bottles are as impressive as those at The Last Refuge in Louisville.
Pallidinos
Johnny Motley / Pallidinos
After stints in Dallas, Buenos Aires, and New York City, I fancy myself something of a steakhouse connoisseur. Pallidinos, a steakhouse under the majestic vault of Grand Central Terminal, is on my Mount Rushmore.
Chef Sam Hazen’s menu is a collage of luxurious treats, with sushi, caviar, and crudo alongside marbled porterhouses, ribeyes, and tomahawks. Start with the deli roll, maki topped with pickles and house-smoked pastrami. For the main course, loosen up the belt for the trolley treat, slow-roasted prime rib with duck fat popovers and potato gratin. Beware if you order the mac ’n’ cheese: it’s so damn good it might to ruin the dish anywhere else. For libations, I like to geek out with neat pours of rare bourbon or sip the whiskey cocktail with nixtamalized corn.
Mama Mezze
Johnny Motley / Mama Mezze
My poor, quivering arteries can handle only so much ribeye, foie gras, and duck fat. When my organism cries out for clean, healthy fare, I book a table at Mama Mezze, an Eastern Mediterranean restaurant in NoMad.
The dining room, wreathed in tilework and greenery, strikes the right balance between lively and serene. You could make a whole meal out of the spreads alone, colorful Levantine dips served with za’atar laffa, oven-fresh pita bread coated with spices. The whipped feta with Aleppo honey and candied pecans is sweet-tangy bliss, and the hummus is so light it could float away.
Hit the appetizers hard and split the chicken tajine as an entree. Slow-cooked with turmeric, preserved lemon, honey, and manzanilla olives, it awakens taste buds you didn’t even know existed. I used to aver that Crystal was the highest expression of the chili pepper. Then I tried Mama Mezze’s harissa. Order an extra dish and drag every bite through it.
Sirrah
Johnny Motley / Sirrah
A riot of velvet, rosy lighting, and opulent upholstery, Sirrah feels like a Paris brasserie with its hair let down. If Tinderella accompanies you for dinner, ask for a quiet seat at the carved marble bar.
Whatever else you order, get the Happier Meal. The burger tastes uncannily like a Quarter Pounder, but if Ronald McDonald had staged under Joël Robuchon. The fries are cut in that familiar Golden Arches style, then fried in beef tallow and served with a parade of gourmet sauces. No toy, but it does include a martini.
Seirēn
Johnny Motley / Seiren
A softly lit jewel box in the West Village, Seirēn is one of the sexiest restaurants around. Tilework adorns the walls and floor, while a gleaming white marble bar anchors the petite dining room. The menu is a paean to the ocean—tinned fish, jewel-like crudos, and fresh oysters stacked on ice.
Start with the Parlay, a martini with a splash of “ocean waves.” It’s as seductively briny as a wet smooch from a naiad. Order a dozen oysters, six East Coasters, and six West Coasters. Eat your weight in conservas—sardines, anchovies, and shellfish bathed in olive oil and herbs.
Rosa Agave & Wine Lounge
Johnny Motley / Rosa Agave Lounge
The tequila and mezcal library at Rosa Agave & Wine Lounge holds its own against elite cocktail bars in CDMX, and it’s the best spot in the city to sample Mexico’s more esoteric distillates. Sotol, a spirit from Chihuahua, tastes like the very soul of the desert. Bacanora, a cactus spirit redolent of fresh Oaxacan cheese and sunbaked stone, was contraband until the late 20th century. And Mexican whiskey is criminally underrated.
The fare is rooted in Mexico but with playful nods to Japan, Peru, and beyond. Sit at the bar, order an Old Fashioned made with Revés, a top-notch Mexican whiskey, and chop it up with executive chef Joe over plates of duck mole and crab empanadas.
Where to drink
You have had your food, but it is NYC, so the night isn’t done. There is a bevy of places in the city perfect for getting a drink. From dive bars to speakeasies, some scream luxury, some scream New York, and all of them let you feel like you are truly indulging in the NYC lifestyle.
Mace
John Shyloski / MACE
Back in boarding school, I discovered first-hand that eating heroic quantities of nutmeg induces LSD-like hallucinations. I suspect similar chemical mischief inspired the mixologists at Mace. With jars of botanicals gleaming above the back bar, the salon is like a dipsomaniacal wizard’s spice cabinet.
Each cocktail centers around a single spice, ranging from humble basil to exotic herbs like pandan. If you’re looking to wade into the deep end of cocktail craft, this is the proper set and setting.
Folk
Johnny Motley / Folk
After chef Jay Kumar earned a Bib Gourmand and a cult following with Lore, his Indian fusion restaurant, he opened Folk, a cocktail-centric sister spot.
The dining room’s shotgun layout and long counter hint at its former life as a neighborhood dive, revamped by Kumar and his wife into a sanctum of tilework, elegant wallpaper, and mid-century modern decor.
His mixology reflects both his South Asian roots and globetrotting career. Standout elixirs include The Times, inspired by the black-and-white cookie, and the Wabi-Sabi, chilled oolong tea blended with Japanese whiskey. Soak up the booze with the Pupu Platter, a spicy spread of skewered meats, pakoras, and crab rangoon.
Temple Bar
Temple Bar
I cherish those public houses that feel like relics of a bygone New York. With a harlequin marble floor, burnished brass trim, and a warren of seating nooks, Temple Bar makes a man want to dress like Frank Sinatra.
The East Village cocktail lounge holds a credible claim to igniting America’s martini craze. Creative riffs like Banned for Life, a martini with Navy Strength Gin, are worth trying, but start with the classic. It’s cold rocket fuel in a crystal coupe, dirty enough to violate morality laws in some conservative jurisdictions. Like John Lee Hooker’s mean, mean licks, it proves that flawless fundamentals trump flashy embellishment. Pair it with a caviar bump.
Ophelia Lounge
Image used with permission by copyright holder
Perched atop the historic Beekman Tower, Ophelia Lounge draws a medley of dapper finance types, glamorous young women in their Carrie Bradshaw era, and cocktail nerds. Grab a seat by the windows to admire the twinkling lights along the East River while you imbibe.
The Omacocktail tasting is a 90-minute procession of seven mini cocktails paired with small plates. The pours are petite enough that your palate still works by the final round, and standouts include a Spanish-style gin and tonic and an elixir built around genever, the old-school Dutch forerunner to gin. Luxurious dainties like caviar bumps and tuna tartare spoons complement each pour.
Now that you have some ideas on how you can get the ultimate NYC indulgence for your stomach. Come back tomorrow so we can tell you where to stay and the off-the-beaten-path experiences to really get the NYC vibe.