07 December 2010
David Burke Townhouse
Just up the street from the Hell on earth that is Bloomingdales this time of year (Actually, Bloomingdales is Hell on earth anytime of year with the women's shoe department being Satan's corporate office), is the erudite and sophisticated, David Burke Townhouse.
As a matter of full disclosure - I haven't eaten here...yet. The Golf Foxtrot and I stopped by on our way to a champagne tasting for a quiet cocktail. And quiet it is. In fact, once you're at the bar everything slows down. In a good way. Every great New York restaurant shares a hard to define calming quality. As an old friend reminds me, "You don't go to a restaurant for the food. You go because it makes you feel special."
While the Foxtrot sipped a glass of Prosecco -- crisp, clean and light. I sipped a Manhattan --deep, earthy and dark. We watched the show in the main dining room below us, elegantly decorated for Christmas, and staffed with attention, care and three men in suits. I have friends who rave about the brunch here and there are some who consider the Burke brunch one of Manhattan's best. The special part is out of the way. Next time - the food.