Get inn the door.
What would you pay for the privilege—nay, the honor—of dining at the Waverly Inn? $120–$135 won’t buy you a prosthetic arm and leg, so hang on to those. It’s not enough to bribe an angry mob of picketers; and if you’re anything like the Waverly’s usual clientele, the deed to your soul is already spoken for.
But that sum will buy you dinner at Graydon Carter and chef John DeLucie’s West Village celebrity fortress. Fork it over to the Culinary Insiders (an excellent chefcentric group that generally focuses on restaurants that are worth a damn) and the meal is covered, along with wine pairings, a kitchen tour and a conversation with DeLucie, whose new book, The Hunger, has been getting ink in the usual places.
The event is this Sunday, folks—hardly enough time to shine your sample-sale Lacroix to their gleaming best. Get your tickets here.
Now that Erin Fitzpatrick is the “wine sommelier,” there, I wouldn’t stop by this
place if you paid me. Erin Fitzpatrick bounces around way too much.
Our consultant group dines out frequently and this place has lost its luster! Nothing on the menu made us want to go back.