Oh, NYC. There are few cities in this world where dining out is as much about what you're wearing, and what you're hoping to see worn, as it is about the food. We are finally confident enough to admit to pretending to scour the wine list (PS: we're ordering mezcal) while actually scoping out the jewels in the room. Here are our top restaurants in NYC for some seriously exquisite encounters of the sparkly kind.
Designed by Julian Schnabel and home to a Danny Meyer masterpiece (Maialino), The Gramercy Park Hotel is edgy, yet luxe enough to look like you're not trying too hard. This place is the Repossi of hotel eateries. In addition to craft cocktails and live jazz, you're surrounded by $25,000 ear cuffs – on trend and on a Black Amex. This is the crowd whose bijoux is so major you may think it's costume, except now you know it's not.
A third of the trifecta of Silkstone Hospitality Group restaurants, if The Fat Radish is good enough for Claudia Mata of W Magazine and her yogi husband, it's good enough for us. This fresh, farm-to-table crowd is cool and easy, fluctuating as easily between grilled cheese and crab gratin as hemp and Hemmerle. Effortlessly elegant on the LES, just like Ms. Mata.
You ordered the dover sole, right? If not, the 15 carat D/IF emerald cut in the corner booth will send you home satisfied. This is the place to go for the view of the society woman and her elaborate, albeit classic, (read: Buccellati, Harry Winston, Verdura, and Van Cleef) statement pieces. Go early and catch a peek, because she's chairing anywhere between one and sixty-five events tomorrow.
In NYC, when you think 8th Street, you might think St. Marks. Fear not, dear readers, we are not sending you to the land of 'on the fly' piercings and discount tattoos – we are headed West to The Marlton Hotel. Inside the coziest lobby in town, you'll get a copper mug of whichever craft-made elixir strikes your fancy and the best meal you've ever had (served by someone with a septum ring). The environment, and the burrata, is so lovely that you'll almost miss the Barneys devotees covered in Spinelli Kilcollin and Irene Neuwirth. Almost.