My stomach was not thanking me this morning for all the fried goodies I ate while at the opening for Millesime last night. At the time it seemed like a great idea. It always does: no dinner, just lots of little bites of appetizer thingys that get passed around on fancy silver platters. "That will get me through and will totally be the same as dinner."
It's not. It never is.
I must say, though, that as far as passed Hors d'œuvres go, this spot did it right, with an oyster bar (perhaps the new trend?) to boot, and made for an opening classier than any I've been to in recent memory (despite my complete fried food overdose).
Something about the scene was just on; the right people, the right mood, the right live band (and A capella group) the right design. Perhaps running into good friends helped shape my perspective, but the crowd was undeniably chic in that classic, New-York-at-its-best way. I don't know that Millesime, the new seafood brasserie in the Carlton Hotel (which replaced the long abandoned Country, finally) will always have such a swanky vibe, but one can only hope.
I should note that the three vodka, strawberry, soda drinks I had perhaps played a note in the morning-after-stomach-agony, but I'm chalking most of it up to the fried calamari and french fries that were deliciously packed with enough salt to cure an entire pig.