Rooftop season.
The last thing you want to do is rush right into it. You might pull a hammy or something.
The smart play: spring train at The Roof, a suitably named knockout of an indoor/outdoor cocktail joint perched atop the Viceroy in Midtown. It opens tomorrow.
If Jordan Belfort’s yacht had run aground 29 floors above Manhattan, it’d look a little something like this: a wooded belowdecks vibe, epic views of Central Park, Quaaludes as far as the eye can see. (Okay, we’re lying about the Quaaludes.)
Your move here: bring a date. If it’s chilly, just grab a spot inside on a leather sofa and get acquainted with a Monkey Business (named after its key ingredient: Monkey Shoulder scotch) and maybe a grilled cheese (the food here’s by Marc Murphy and Gerber Group). If you feel compelled to heed the siren song of terrace breezes, toss that sport coat around said date and head outside for some contemplative staring and sipping.
And some really sexy teeth chattering.
The last thing you want to do is rush right into it. You might pull a hammy or something.
The smart play: spring train at The Roof, a suitably named knockout of an indoor/outdoor cocktail joint perched atop the Viceroy in Midtown. It opens tomorrow.
If Jordan Belfort’s yacht had run aground 29 floors above Manhattan, it’d look a little something like this: a wooded belowdecks vibe, epic views of Central Park, Quaaludes as far as the eye can see. (Okay, we’re lying about the Quaaludes.)
Your move here: bring a date. If it’s chilly, just grab a spot inside on a leather sofa and get acquainted with a Monkey Business (named after its key ingredient: Monkey Shoulder scotch) and maybe a grilled cheese (the food here’s by Marc Murphy and Gerber Group). If you feel compelled to heed the siren song of terrace breezes, toss that sport coat around said date and head outside for some contemplative staring and sipping.
And some really sexy teeth chattering.
