Peerless Platters

I know, I know. You’re tired of speakeasies, right? If you hear about one more decoy-​storefront, hidden-​entrance, unlisted-​number, laser-​engraved key-​carrying members-​only den of mixology you’re going to chain yourself to the bar at Jake’s Dilemma and drink MGD until you forget what house-​infused ginger-​clementine bitters taste like.
But wait. Peerless Platters isn’t just another over-​hyped Prohibition-​era style cocktail lair, it’s a bona fide supper club at a location unknown even to its guests until hours before the meal, and unlike its better-​known contemporary Whisk & Ladle, you don’t have to charm your way in, you just have to wait.
I signed up with PP almost a year ago and had nearly forgotten about it until a little email arrived in my inbox saying I had a spot at their October event. Looking over the menu, my taste buds nodded in approval at such drool-​worthy items as fluke carpaccio with peaches and caviar, pan-​seared scallops with crisped lardons, bourbon-​lacquered duck breast…
EXCUSE ME. Did you just say «lardons» and then say «bourbon-​lacquered»??? Yes, complete strangers on the internet, here is my credit card number.
My favorite foodie gal Claw and I arrived last night at the address I’d just been emailed, wondering nervously whether we were about to spend the evening with pretentious food-​douches, smug hipsters, or both. Once inside, though, we happily discovered that it was neither. We were warmly greeted by the PP organizer, and found a low-​key, non-​sceney group of nice people who, like us, were just there for a good meal and tasty cocktails.
Which we got! Since the menu is pretty much guaranteed not to be the same ever again, I see no point in detailing the perfectly salty, sweet and buttery sensation the fluke-​peach-​caviar combo delivered, nor the way in which we were all essentially licking our bowls to get every last possible taste of tomato coconut curry soup. I’ll just say this: if you happen to be lucky enough to be offered a spot at a Peerless Platters, take it. Not because you’re a food snoot or a speakeasy groupie, but because it will be worth it.