Vamping it up in old New York

Spectator, The, Jan 27, 2001 by Wyatt, Petronella

Dinner might be at Daniel, owned and run by the chef Daniel Boulud. A more exquisite dining place is not to be found. The madeleines served with the coffee arrive sensuously hot, like mounds of corn warmed by the sun. Then there is Le Bernadin, a swanky seafood restaurant where Dietrich would have torn the lobster claws apart. The restaurant in the Mark Hotel serves Grand Marnier souffles like the French once made them.

It's now around ten and the night is beckoning. Forget the rave joints and all that oldfashioned stuff. Do you remember the nightclub in The Thin Man? It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing. The Supper Club in the theatre district does its best to live up to its standards. The floors are shiny, the dance-floor is as big as Lake Michigan and the orchestra has 17 pieces. Where in London would you find more than three? It's swinging, baby, and the younger the crowd the hotter the swing becomes.

Once upon a time there was the Cotton Club. Can you hear those dancing feet? Those pedal extremities belonged to Jean Harlow and Cab Calloway. The original doesn't stand any more, but there is a reincarnation of the great Harlem club on West 125th Street. In the old days, there were shoot-outs on the dance-floor; now there are exhibitions of old dance routines and live jazz and swing.

The Rainbow Room used to be the most romantic nightclub in New York until it disintegrated into a sleazy, peeling-paint, pick-up joint in the Eighties. Now it has been bought by Arrigo Cipriani and has retrieved some of its former charm. Unfortunately, the Rainbow Room has become a private club, so the only way to go along is to make friends with a member.

It's nearly midnight. Broadway babes might not have slept in the Thirties, but now they have jobs to go to the next morning. Even so, it seems weedy to call it a night entirely. Why not stop for a nightcap at the Swing 46 Jazz Club on West 46th Street? The club is all swing, all the time. New York women often go there in long evening dresses, and the club does scrambled eggs and hash browns for breakfast. The live big band is reminiscent of Benny Goodman's - one of its staple tunes is the haunting `I'm Getting Sentimental Over You'. It's enough to jerk the tears from Nero's eyes.