A Wednesday Afternoon at Two Upper East Side Institutions
Martinis at Bemelmans Bar, Followed by a Cheeseburger and Cottage Fries at J.G. Melon
Dante x Bemelmans Bar
LAST CALL readers and subscribers already know I’m a longtime regular of Dante and a bit of a Friday afternoon fixture at my favorite corner seat at the bar of their original MacDougal Street location. Dante is no stranger to hosting some of the world’s best international bars, and they’ve taken their own bar on the road for residencies in Italy, Spain, South America, and Australia. But the only Dante “away game” I had personally experienced was nearly seven years ago when their bartenders brought their acclaimed Martini service a quick subway ride north for a one-night pop-up at Manhattan’s Gramercy Tavern. But all that changed when I was invited to spend an afternoon at one of the three recent Dante “Legends of New York” takeovers at New York’s Bemelmans Bar at The Carlyle, where the unionized bar welcomed an outside team behind their storied bar for the first time.
I lived in Manhattan for four years in the early-to-mid ‘90s and have called Brooklyn home since 2010, but as a New Yorker I was mildly embarrassed to admit I had never set foot in Bemelmans. I knew of the bar, of course, and its famous mural by the bar’s namesake Ludwig Bemelmans, the Austrian-American author and artist of the Madeline picture books, but had only seen its interior as the setting of Sofia Coppola’s A Very Murray Christmas and featured in On the Rocks.
Unless it’s to visit the Guggenheim, Kitchen Arts & Letters, The New York Antiquarian Book Fair at the Park Avenue Armory, or J.G. Melon, I can’t say I spend much time on the Upper East Side. And with its history of hosting Presidents, world leaders, celebrities, and socialites, The Carlyle—the luxurious residential hotel built in 1930 and its discreet hideaway of a bar with its cover charges, dress codes, and expensive cocktails—Bemelmans didn’t seem like the sort of place where I would feel comfortable posting up. I’m all for upscale elegance in small doses, but these days I’m more about the everyman comforts of a neighborhood bar.
In fact, the morning of my Wednesday reservation at Bemelmans I woke up with more anxiety than usual concerning the Bemelmans Bar “smart dress” dress code policy. Thankfully it didn’t kick in until 5:30 p.m., but I did my best to look Brooklyn Writer presentable in a pair of dark-chocolate desert boots, my darkest denim, micro-check oxford (even tucked in!), and navy chore coat (buttoned). And naturally, as is the case when it comes to dress codes, among the many in smart jackets and suits, were plenty of loose interpretations on display (hoodies, faded jeans with a vintage tour shirt under a blazer) in the style of the famous (or those who long to be), who can wear whatever they feel like.
I arrived 15 minutes early for my 2:00 p.m. reservation and stood around awkwardly in the small lobby, keeping myself occupied admiring the oversized portrait of singer Bobby Short, the famed cabaret singer and pianist who was a fixture at Café Carlyle from 1968 to 2004. Dante’s Director of Business Development, Rodrigo Leme, suddenly appeared and greeted me with, “I see they’ll let anyone in here!” He led me into Café Carlyle, the intimate supper club space across the lobby from Bemelmans that has hosted shows from legends like Eartha Kitt and Elaine Stritch to live music, performances, and residences from the likes Alan Cumming, Isaac Mizrahi, Sutton Foster, Rufus Wainwright, and Candace Bushnell. A hotel staffer, assuming we were stray tourists, quickly stepped in to politely ask if we were lost.
Bemelmans was just warming up when we stepped into the dim Art Deco room with its 24-karat gold leaf-coated ceiling and “cowboy-hat-wearing jazz pianist” Louis B. Middleton behind the keyboard of the grand piano which anchored the center of the room. I said hello to three familiar blue-aproned Dante bartenders—Renato Tonelli, Michael Toscano, and Roberto Bracco—setting up behind the bar among the red-jacketed Bemelmans staff, and paid my respects to the always stylish lifestyle writer Kimberly Fisher, who was being shown to her table. Rodrigo had held the Bemelmans version of the “Brad Corner” seat for me but I asked if I could sit center court at the bar to bask in the golden glow of the illuminated backbar.
I was then introduced to Bemelmans General Manager Dimitrios Michalopoulos who graciously gave me a tour among the chocolate-brown leather banquettes and the tables with their shaded lamps, pointing out some of the whimsical vignettes of Madeline and her eleven classmates frolicking over four seasons in Central Park. Ludwig Bemelmans waived his commission fee for “Central Park,” the expansive pale yellow mural he painted in 1947, in exchange for accommodations at The Carlyle for himself and his family for 18 months.
When I took my seat at the bar I ran into some other familiar faces, including LAST CALL Founding Member Mitch Kushinsky (Mitch, I was wrong about “Knicks in five” but bring on the Pacers!) along with Grey Goose NY Brand Ambassador Maxime Belfand and Patrón Tequila’s Sam Willy. Dante co-owners Nathalie Hudson and her husband Linden Pride were dashing as ever, with Pride stylishly accenting his bespoke suit with velvet slippers embroidered with matching Martini glasses.
All of the drinks on the special Dante menu were priced at $24 and included:
The Dante Martini
Grey Goose, Bombay Sapphire, Noilly Prat, Dolin Blanc, Nardini Cedro, Lemon Bitters, Olive BittersOlivette
Grey Goose, Bombay Sapphire, Noilly Prat, St. Germain, Olive BittersNegroni Cielo
Patron el Cielo, Salers, Alessio Bianco, Luxardo, Bianco, Lime Bitters, SalineCosmogroni
Grey Goose L’Ctiron, Noilly Prat, Luxardo Bianco, Rose, CranberryAmalfi Limonata
Bombay Sapphire Premier Cru, Dante Limoncello, Lemon Curd, Lemon Juice, Sanpellegrino Limonata SodaPina Colada Spritz
Banks 5, Santa Teresa, Leblon Cachaca, Pineapple Rum, Pineapple, Coconut, Prosecco
I’ve been fortunate to have tried all of these drinks before, but it was fun to see them served in the elegant Bemelmans glasses, which likely wouldn’t stand up to the high-volume service needs back at Dante’s home-court. The setting certainly called for starting with The Dante Martini with its trio of multi-colored Cerignola olives, served alongside a silver-plated carrier with three bowls featuring crisp crackers that resembled lardons of bacon, blue cheese-stuffed green olives, and an excellent assortment of mixed nuts.
Out of curiosity I asked to see one of the leather-bound Bemelmans menus whose house Martinis started at $28 and up with many of their classic cocktails priced in the low-to-mid thirties. It was fun to see Audrey Saunders’ modern classics, The Old Cuban and the Gin-Gin Mule, still on the menu at the bar where they were first created. The next time I’m back I hope to order a JFK Daiquiri (Mount Gay XO Rum, The Bitter Truth Golden Falernum Liqueur, Lime Juice, Simple Syrup), just because. And I was drawn to Bobby’s Manhattan (Santa Teresa 1796 Rum, Carpano Antica, Cherry Herring, Scrappy’s Orange Bitters, Angostura Bitters, Dry Gypsophilia), named in honor of Bobby Short.
The Dante team had even brought along their espresso-maker sized device to print out “drinkable” custom designs to garnish the foamy surface of their popular Honey Bee (Patron Silver Tequila, Mr. Black Cold Brew Coffee Liqueur, Amontillado Sherry, Raspberry, Chocolate Bitters, Salted Honey Cream), and Sam was kind enough to break my Martini reverie by sending one my way, complete with a Dante x Bemelmens Bar logo. I continued my tequila journey with Dante’s Negroni Cielo, a spirited and bittersweet take on a tequila Bianco Negroni.
But, perhaps due to the primo spring weather outside the dim drinking den, the cocktail I saw the bartenders absolutely banging out was their refreshing Amalfi Limonata, and Toscano, who was ending his seven-year career with Dante at this final away-game shift, confirmed it was the overall top-seller of the three-day pop-up.
As it hit 5:30 p.m., the bar was getting more crowded with regulars, tourists, and the pre-dinner cocktail crowd and the ambiance increased from a steady buzz to a more boisterous revel. After I left some cash on the bar, a nice guy named Kris on the other end of the bar moved down to occupy the empty bar seat next to me to better continue our Knicks talk (it was the eve of Game 3 in Philly and we both knew Philly was going to take at least one game but it turns out we were both wrong). He asked if I liked whiskey and when I said yes, he ordered two neat glasses of Widow Jane 10 Year Straight Bourbon Whiskey (made not too far from me down in Red Hook, Brooklyn) and we toasted to the Knicks and our unexpected, and very spirited, afternoon.
J.G. Melon
I stepped outside into the early evening sun shining down on Madison Avenue and considered that my lunch of mixed nuts and olives wasn’t enough sustenance to make it back to Brooklyn. I quickly decided to make the most out of my Upper East Side adventure with an impromptu dinner at nearby J.G. Melon, the beloved “saloon with food” that’s been a neighborhood institution since 1972.
Whenever I do find myself near the neon glow of J.G. Melon it’s usually packed, but I lucked out with a number of bar seats open. The host reminded me of the cash only policy and as I’d emptied my wallet at Bemelmans he pointed me to the nearest ATM down the block. I made my way to the last seat at the end of the bar and after the server dropped a menu I asked her if I could place my order first and then run out to grab some cash. “Why don’t you sit down and relax,” she said with a hint of sass, “and we’ll figure everything out later.” I told her I liked her style and pushed away the menu as I knew what I wanted: a Bacon Cheeseburger, Cottage Fries, and a beer.
I probably had two sips of my beer before my burger materialized in front of me like it had been dispensed from the food replicator on Star Trek. “Wow, that was fast,” I said, more impressed than alarmed. Her droll response: “We’ve been making them since 1972. We kind of know what we’re doing here.” I ate my burger as quickly as it came out from the kitchen behind me, trying to count the number of melon-themed paintings and artwork adorning the walls before losing count.
At one point a young server approached my server and asked if they carried any amaro. I scanned the backbar registering the many bottles like the Terminator, but all I saw was Campari and Aperol. “I guess not,” she said. “We’re not that kind of bar.” I couldn’t resist chiming in and brought up a copy of my book Amaro on my phone but I can’t say that she exactly seemed impressed.
The younger server came back over king of laughing to himself. “Who orders amaro? What even is it? It’s like Kahlúa, right?” She motioned to me with her thumb. “Ask him. Apparently, he wrote the book on it”
When it was time for me to hit the ATM I asked if I needed to leave any collateral behind. “I have a feeling you’ll come back. But just to make sure I’ll have another beer waiting for you.”
Some might consider the progression from Bemelmans Bar to J.G. Melon a classic “high/low” experience. But for me it was the manifestation of a landmark day in New York City.
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I love Bemelmans!!
I lived a block away from Melon’s for 30 years, miss it, thanks for writing about it.