“…Ummm yeah, hold on for a second…that’s my Blackberry…apparently it’s Paris on the line…as in Hilton. Yeah, she’s just coming up from Nobu with Graydon and Orlando…anyway, are you on the guest list? No? Please step back. I’m serious, get the hell out of here fatty!”
And so opens the most pretentious delicatessen in the history of New York. “Delicatessen” is a much hyped, over the top, insanely posh reinmagined bar/lounge/restaurant/retro deli/diner in the spray-on-denim kingdom known as Nolita/Soho…where the skin is taut, the heels high, and the nights just fab-u-lous! The chairs are by Eames and the menu is designed by Terry Richardson (the world’s coolest ex-junkie photographer). There are velvet ropes, clipboard wielding PR chicks in droves, and enough mirrors and glass to satisfy FARC’s annual supply of white gold.
Yes friends, this is a new age proto deli for the ultra slick hipteratti of New York’s decadent downtown. The menu is a mashup of mac n’ cheese, Reuben fritters, pastrami, matzo ball, and deep fried sliders. It’s inventive, fusiony, and beyond pretentious. The bloggers, scenesters, and various anorexic hangers on are already lining up for a chance to eat the HOTTEST bowl of chicken soup this side of the Grammercy.
As a deli lover I find this interesting as a social phenomenon. Will this place be around in 5-10 years? I wouldn’t bet on it. Hip, funky, innovative takes on deli are great for a short period. Remember Mo Pitkin’s House of Satisfaction? Me neither.
If you need me, I’ll be in the can with Padma, Paris, and two goats. You look gorgeous.