NY – So you’ve got yourself a raging case of cabin fever and you don’t know how to remedy it? Well, the doctor is IN and for once you won’t have a bitter pill to swallow. Grab a few friends, follow these three easy steps and before you know it you’ll be hungover, clawing at the Advil, and craving a burger to sop up the remaining alcohol in your system.
Here’s how it’s gonna go down:
1) You’ll start the evening early at NYC’s newest “glam” spot, Catch. Why start early? Beside the fact that it’s always five o’clock somewhere, you’ll want to score seats at the bar. Sure, getting a table is fine but remember, you’ve been cooped up for too long. It’s time to mingle! The bar scene is grown-up with just the right amount of cool thrown in and not a bored-looking, snarky, twenty-something in sight. The atmosphere is fabulous (though – and I’m nitpicking here – they could use some under-bar hooks. Nobody’s perfect) and includes a stunning rooftop lounge that opens at 11 p.m. Another bonus? Catch has great lighting and that’s hard to find (ladies, you know what I mean). The drinks are delicious and the food lives up to the hype — which is to say, it’s astonishingly good. Think shrimp and buffalo mozzarella flatbread. Mushroom spaghetti with sugar snap peas. Mussels. Everything we tasted was scrumptious. And then came the scallop dumplings. Let’s put it this way: now I know what angels nibble on up there in heaven – they’re that good.
So you gobble everything up, drain your martini glasses and your energy is plummeting at an alarming rate. You find yourself secretly wishing you could hail a taxi and crawl into bed. Well, hang on a teensy bit longer, my friend. You just need to catch (unintended pun) a second wind. And I’ve got you covered…
2) Just dash across the cobblestones to another new spot: The Haberdasher, on the third floor of the restaurant 5 Ninth. Here’s all you need to know: burlesque, Fellini films and a drink menu featuring what’ll surely be their signature drink, the Cockeyed Fedora. You’re welcome.
3) What? Now you want to keep the party going? I knew you’d come around! As a reward for rallying, clickety-clack those high-heels about a half block up 14th Street to The Darby, between 7th and 8th Avenues. If a building could smile, The Darby would be beaming. It’s a chic speakeasy with an interior that will Blow. Your. Mind. Celebrities flock to it, gossip columnists write about it, and musicians play it. And oh boy, do they ever play it. You can’t mention the place without someone interrupting to tell you about the night Prince joined the band onstage. Or, wait, maybe it was Wyclef Jean. No no, it was Taylor Swift. Actually, it was all of them. At different times. Performing surprise sets.
Take it all in, then make your way past the yawning Eastern European models and the married dudes who love them, down to Darby Downstairs, a sexy subterranean cocktail lounge, complete with leather banquets and a drink named the Tin Lizzy. Fun and games aside, I had roasted brussel sprouts and the mac-and-cheese and both were fantastic. The bartenders (Okay, fine. The Mixologists.) don’t skimp on the booze and the wine list is surprisingly extensive. At the end of the day, though, it’s all about the spectacle. And the caviar service.
Because let’s face it: we’re worth it. Now can someone pass the Advil?
For more on Elizabeth, click here.