While dinner had been called for 8pm, we found ourselves kibitzing and cocktailing until well past 9pm, so – ever at the ready, as a good hostess should be – manager Lily Cho suggested that some food would be a good way to prevent my guests from toppling over before the tippling was finished.  As usual, she was right.

The victuals were the perfect accompaniment to a night of cardio cocktailing, and included the most fantastic finger foods – ideal for sharing (especially if a bit tipsy, or on one’s way to getting there) – such as Assorted Spreads (including hummus, caponata, tomato basil, olive tapenade, and onion, served with toast points), Devils on Horseback (dates and apricots, stuffed with goat cheese, wrapped with bacon, and served with a honey-lime vinaigrette and olive oil), and pre-sliced Cuban Sandwiches (roasted pork, ham, and Swiss cheese, with Dijon mustard and chopped cornichons, served on a Cuban hero roll).

The serpentine banquettes are designed to adapt to the size of the party (or parties), allowing a group of up to 8 to maintain privacy, or a group of 10 or more to spread-out and (in the nightlife version of Manifest Destiny meeting Urban Sprawl) keep guests at both tables involved in the conversation.  For instance, while Tiffany Kay was showing Rasa Living guru Donna D’Cruz and globe-trotting fashion designer Kalinka a selection of platinum and diamond evening jewelry from Scott Kay (that D’Cruz would wear the following night to the wedding of Lisa Deflora and John Martin at the Mandarin Oriental, prompting her to squeal gleefully “Best dinner I’ve ever been to!  I’m going home with diamonds!  I mean, what could be better?”); designer Maggie Norris and artist Benedetta Pignatelli discussed Norris’ inaugural ready-to-wear collection; filmmaker Andrew Le Pera regaled Courtney Andresen with tales from Hollyweird, while teasing Lifestyle Mirror and Elizabeth Street publisher Meg Bedford about her Twitter habit (“57 updates?!?!”); and Tommy Boy Records founder Tom Silverman told Stan Chopin and Ryan Bedford all about the success of the recent New Music Seminar.

The room has some great fung shui to it, and flows beautifully.  There’s a gorgeous chandelier that slowly spins, drawing the eye upwards to the painted ceiling and the DJ’s second story aerie.  While we were there, Angola (née Jason Agnes) spun a savvy mix that included Dolly Parton (“Is he playing “Jolene” over a House beat?  Genius!”), Grace Jones, Paul Simon, and The O’Jays – all perfectly synced over sexy Eurocentric beats.

Past the bar, toward the back of the venue, a discrete staircase with a curving wall of studded leather, takes intrepid guests upstairs to the Rec Room, where Uncle Mike has curated a vinyl library with everything from rock classics (Lou Reed, David Bowie, the Rolling Stones, and Queen) to kitsch (the soundtrack to Goldfinger, the Scooby Doo Christmas Album, and Senor Coconut’s cover version of Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water”).  Best of all, guests are encouraged to leaf through the albums, and take them to the DJ booth, where Uncle Mike will work the songs into his set.  Because while common wisdom tells us that DJs abhor taking requests, there’s nothing common about Uncle Mike; and the wisdom behind No.8 dictates that the guests’ enjoyment is paramount.

And while I could go on and on about how my evening at No.8 went on for seven hours and in addition to my dinner, included a bit of apres with gentleman farmer Cristo Brown, media sensei Spencer Wang, and agri-business smartie Delilah Rothenberg; a round of drinks with a trio of Navy SEALs; a kiki with an Italian battalion that was led by MediaBend Capital honcho Emanuele Della Valle; a quick catch-up with actors Dash Mihok and Greg Bello; and concluded with my excusing myself from a hang with the charming Clive Owen (who's much taller in real life) and his pals; let me just say that like all great venues, it provides the ideal backdrop for any number of confabs, chin-wags, canoodles, and people-watching.

No.8
347 West 16th Street
New York
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