You never know what to make of retired athletes.
Charles Barkley wants you to lose weight.
Joe Montana wants you to wear some questionable sneakers.
But a Knicks legend just wants you to feast on porterhouse.
He also wants you to lose the gray, but let’s focus on that porterhouse...
Introducing Clyde Frazier’s Wine and Dine, a mammoth new lair of basically every kind of food, slated to open Monday in Hell’s Kitchen.
You know Clyde: Hall of Fame point guard. Voice of the Knicks. Sideburn aficionado. Just an overall righteous dude. Well, this is all his. Big, brash and a little all-over-the-place. As in pizzas, a sushi bar, Thai lobster curry, dumplings, every conceivable kind of steak and purple-snakeskin menus—that kind of all-over-the-place.
You and a group of possibly body-painted friends will arrive at the 10th Avenue entrance and do a quick survey of the land. NBA memorabilia: check. Ceiling made of aluminum versions of Clyde’s suits: indeed. And yes, that is a regulation hardwood free-throw room you’re ogling. (Go ahead, take a shot.)
If there’s a game on, hang back in the lounge and catch it on one of 56 flat-screens. If you need to recover from a feverish bout of Linsanity (and who hasn’t), grab a recovery meal at one of the gray banquettes in the main dining room instead.
Thankfully, Isiah has nothing to do with this.
Charles Barkley wants you to lose weight.
Joe Montana wants you to wear some questionable sneakers.
But a Knicks legend just wants you to feast on porterhouse.
He also wants you to lose the gray, but let’s focus on that porterhouse...
Introducing Clyde Frazier’s Wine and Dine, a mammoth new lair of basically every kind of food, slated to open Monday in Hell’s Kitchen.
You know Clyde: Hall of Fame point guard. Voice of the Knicks. Sideburn aficionado. Just an overall righteous dude. Well, this is all his. Big, brash and a little all-over-the-place. As in pizzas, a sushi bar, Thai lobster curry, dumplings, every conceivable kind of steak and purple-snakeskin menus—that kind of all-over-the-place.
You and a group of possibly body-painted friends will arrive at the 10th Avenue entrance and do a quick survey of the land. NBA memorabilia: check. Ceiling made of aluminum versions of Clyde’s suits: indeed. And yes, that is a regulation hardwood free-throw room you’re ogling. (Go ahead, take a shot.)
If there’s a game on, hang back in the lounge and catch it on one of 56 flat-screens. If you need to recover from a feverish bout of Linsanity (and who hasn’t), grab a recovery meal at one of the gray banquettes in the main dining room instead.
Thankfully, Isiah has nothing to do with this.