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Want to slurp up some fancy? Head to Grand Central's Campbell Apartment, the former private salon of millionaire John T. Campbell and now, expense-account den of the Westchester commuter. With its lovely dark wood walls, leaded window, and stone fireplace, the place resembles something out of a movie about the Gilded Age, where the filthily rich down a last drink before the fall of mankind. The florid descriptions of the "cocktails from another era" (the Robber Baron, the Flapper's Delight) sell a fairytale of an old Gotham Gatsbyland of daily cufflink use and men who pranced off the Monopoly gameboard. We recommend the $15 Prohibition Punch, which we learned was "reminiscent of the bootlegged punches of High Society." And fyi, leave the ripped jeans and sneakers at homeathe dress code is strictly enforced here.
Hidden gem - often crowded but an impressive place to take a visitor from out of town.
In case you've been pangolin hunting in Pago Pago for the past year or so, the Campbell Apartment is the joint they faked up out of Jazz Age mogul J.W. Campbell's palatial Grand Central office. Marble, wood, club chairs--it radiates couth. Good. Bad: The outrageously priced house cocktails often lack magic. Worse: Weeknights, you can't enjoy them in peace, since the establishment pumps up the boisterous after-work crowd with an ill-advised mix of loud neoswing and AOR (the space cries... More »
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