Hold still—looks like you’ve got a little weekend on you.
Your Perks: 1) A VIP ticket or table at an indoor Halloween garden party in the Meatpacking District. It’s less civilized than it sounds. 2) Cocktails and small plates on an indoor rooftop. Fall-date-approved. 3) A private table (complete with bottles of Grey Goose and champagne) at a massive Times Square Halloween party.
First, a little style math: shirt + jacket = shacket. Apropos of nothing, it’s shacket season. And flannel-suit season. And looking-handsome season. Also apropos of nothing, Freemans Sporting Club is now operating out of a shop-in-shop at Bloomingdale’s in Midtown. Okay, maybe it’s all apropos of something.
You know Scott Conant. Started Scarpetta. Makes the world’s greatest spaghetti. Does car commercials now. Right, that’s the guy. So he’s doing a secret-location, one-night-only pop-up to preview his soon-to-be-extant restaurant on Saturday, and Friday morning is when you need to grab reservations if you like spaghetti. Or secrets.
Limitless steak and beer. No utensils. Williamsburg. That’s all we’re going to tell you about this.
... and then into your life roared the breakfast pizza like a bat out of hell, covered with bacon, sausage, cheese and eggs. And your life was better for it. It was that time when Petaluma started doing brunch. It was this weekend...
Sons of Essex is Sons of Essex. Except of course that one time a month, when it’s now going to be transformed into a speakeasy version of New Orleans’s historic vice district, complete with live jazz, étouffée and not-very-clothed dancers. It’s different on those nights.
