Full disclosure: at the time of writing this review I am neither a member of AARP, in a geriatric living facility or six feet under. Even at the fresher end of life, that puts me a good 40 years younger than the average patron at this classic Upper East Side eatery. This is why I generally try to chow down south of 14th Street when I’m opening the wallet wide and spending Hipster Jr.’s inheritance on an indulgent night out. Apparently the space here was becoming as aged and decrepit as the customers so they rehabbed the place a few years back. I wouldn’t designate it as opulent per se, but it was certainly rich-feeling in a Lex Luther kind of way. We first sat out front sipping drinks at low tables while we waited for some other suckers to vacate our space. Looking around, and judging purely by my surroundings, I realized that the tasting menu was going to be way out of my price range. When we were finally lead to our banquette table around the outside rim of the somewhat round room, Hipster Mom wrinkled her nose and gave a look to the maître d’ that said, “How dare you disrespect me, my husband, my daughter-in-law and my movie star-looking son with your insulting, but random, divvying of tables!” It turns out, unbeknownst to me, that now we were the suckers taking a suckass table. Who knew? Apparently in a big room like that the banquette tables are the worst, as two people sitting there have to stare at a wall all night. Hipster Mom is very knowledgeable about such things, but didn’t raise a stink, as she knew I would freak out and we’d have to wait quite a while for another spot. So once we got that straightened out, I had a trio of hamachi for my appetizer, a duo of beef for dinner and some sort of brownie thing with mascarpone for desert. It was all quite delicious, although pretty simple and not particularly inspirational in any way. I’m honestly not sure what it is I’m looking for when I go to a very expensive dinner, but for one reason or another it seems I’m disappointed when there’s not something shocking or ridiculous on my plate. Sushi and steak, while prepared beautifully, just didn’t raise my blood pressure (in a good way). The overall experience was a good one, although the best part was when Hipster Dad threw down the credit card at the end of the night! [MF]
60 E 65th St. (be. Park & Madison Ave.)
212/288-0033
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