Dana Goodyear’s New Yorker piece on underground supper clubs is great fun, even if you, like me, thought supper clubs were just a thing cool people did in LA and San Francisco and Brooklyn, like, five years ago. They are not! They are alive! They are THRIVING. They are a thing cool people do in LA and San Francisco and Brooklyn NOW.
They cost $90 a person, give or take, cash, placed in “a desiccated crocodile head that sits in the middle of the table.” They are not a place to get rich, if you’re the one doing the cooking, but they are a place to break even.