Prediction: eight words from now, you’ll have a powerful lust for lamb chops...
Introducing Noir, a mammoth chamber of foie gras, secluded lounging and sweeping Old Hollywood–style grandiosity, taking reservations now for Monday in Midtown.
In a past life, this was Nikki Beach Midtown. Now, it’s two floors of bespoke punch bowls, Michelin-approved lamb rack and all your major tartares—ready for your most powerful power lunches and all-hands-on-deck-type woo-ery. Just the bare essentials—with a few gold-leafed feathers here and a dab of crystal there.
You’ll notice the deco marble bar and lounge area first. You’re not strictly required to go any farther, but, what the hell, you’ve got to eat. So move on to the restaurant area, and grab the nearest towering wraparound banquette. Take it all in: the ornate dome, the hand-painted frescoes and, by all means, as much creamy lobster gratin as is acceptable. That glassed-off room beyond: we’ll get there.
But first, a healthy bound up that wrought-iron spiral staircase (stairs want to be spiraled). This is where the magic happens. The magic of tableside drink service and bar carts roving dutifully through bead-curtained nooks and cushioned crannies.
But the deal with the glass room: it’s reserved for those tackling the chef’s wine-paired tasting menu. And you know what they say about people in glass houses—
They f**king love tasting menus.
Introducing Noir, a mammoth chamber of foie gras, secluded lounging and sweeping Old Hollywood–style grandiosity, taking reservations now for Monday in Midtown.
In a past life, this was Nikki Beach Midtown. Now, it’s two floors of bespoke punch bowls, Michelin-approved lamb rack and all your major tartares—ready for your most powerful power lunches and all-hands-on-deck-type woo-ery. Just the bare essentials—with a few gold-leafed feathers here and a dab of crystal there.
You’ll notice the deco marble bar and lounge area first. You’re not strictly required to go any farther, but, what the hell, you’ve got to eat. So move on to the restaurant area, and grab the nearest towering wraparound banquette. Take it all in: the ornate dome, the hand-painted frescoes and, by all means, as much creamy lobster gratin as is acceptable. That glassed-off room beyond: we’ll get there.
But first, a healthy bound up that wrought-iron spiral staircase (stairs want to be spiraled). This is where the magic happens. The magic of tableside drink service and bar carts roving dutifully through bead-curtained nooks and cushioned crannies.
But the deal with the glass room: it’s reserved for those tackling the chef’s wine-paired tasting menu. And you know what they say about people in glass houses—
They f**king love tasting menus.
