Well, the Fighting Irish have finally left town.
And today, things are a little less green around here.
But a heck of a lot more French.
Meet George’s Kitchen and The Loft at George’s Kitchen, part French bistro, part French lounge and all from the guy behind George’s (though you probably already guessed that), now open in Midtown.
Two for one. That’s sort of what’s happening here. Downstairs, you’ve got a warm, sunlit bistro for decadent French fare (hello, short rib tartare). And upstairs: a plush lounge for cocktailing in the dark—you can’t see it, but yes, that’s a Dark Side of the Moon (gin, crème de violette, Granny Smith apple juice) you’re drinking.
Now, the downstairs—that’s best experienced with a big group. Walk in under the wooden trusses, past the mosaic of George’s face (looking good, George), and take over the 16-seat walnut-and-copper communal table. Then, fill that table with a slew of Parisian-style shared plates. Côte de boeuf with brown-butter pomme puree. That should be somewhere in your order.
And when it comes time to narrow down your party of 16 to a pairing of two, work your way upward toward the loft. You’ll go stairs to doorway to brown suede banquette to smoky liquid-nitrogen cocktails under a skylight.
Sure beats the planetarium.
And today, things are a little less green around here.
But a heck of a lot more French.
Meet George’s Kitchen and The Loft at George’s Kitchen, part French bistro, part French lounge and all from the guy behind George’s (though you probably already guessed that), now open in Midtown.
Two for one. That’s sort of what’s happening here. Downstairs, you’ve got a warm, sunlit bistro for decadent French fare (hello, short rib tartare). And upstairs: a plush lounge for cocktailing in the dark—you can’t see it, but yes, that’s a Dark Side of the Moon (gin, crème de violette, Granny Smith apple juice) you’re drinking.
Now, the downstairs—that’s best experienced with a big group. Walk in under the wooden trusses, past the mosaic of George’s face (looking good, George), and take over the 16-seat walnut-and-copper communal table. Then, fill that table with a slew of Parisian-style shared plates. Côte de boeuf with brown-butter pomme puree. That should be somewhere in your order.
And when it comes time to narrow down your party of 16 to a pairing of two, work your way upward toward the loft. You’ll go stairs to doorway to brown suede banquette to smoky liquid-nitrogen cocktails under a skylight.
Sure beats the planetarium.
