Out Late: The ‘clubstaurant’ is making a major comeback
“Out Late” is Time Out’s nightlife and party column by DJ, Whorechata founder and Time Out New York Culture Editor Ian Kumamoto, and is published every other Tuesday. The previous edition was about what insiders and partygoers are predicting for NYC nightlife in 2025.
As a kid, my dad used to yell at me for playing with my food. I grew up in the type of household where dinners were had in silence and with the TV off, used as mandatory reflection time.
Fast forward a couple decades, and I’m yelling over a tub of fried chicken at a “clubstaurant,” an only-in-America genre of establishment that mixes elements of nightlife with fine dining. I can hardly hear what my table companion is saying, partially because the music and chatter around us is so loud, and partially because I keep getting distracted by the super hot waiters who pass by.
You can probably guess that I’m at COQODAQ, the flashy new Korean fried chicken restaurant that opened in the Flatiron District last year. In the past several months, it’s become one of a growing slate of nightlife-adjacent restaurants, mostly in Manhattan, that practically beg you to have play with your food, or perhaps, to play in spite of the food that’s on your table. There’s Jean’s on Lafayette Street, which regards itself as “a club where food is the gimmick.” Then, there's the new permanent location of Gitano at the Seaport, a Tulum-inspired clubstaurant that opened last week and claims to have the city’s largest disco ball (in addition to ceviche).
An offshoot of the Michelin-starred steak house Cote, COQODAQ is like a younger, sexy sibling who stays out till 2am on a school night. I was there on a Wednesday and there was a palatable buzz when I walked in, the chatter of people clearly glad to be on the guest list. The crown jewel of the space are the lit-up arches that end in a mirror reflecting them back, creating an endless tunnel effect in the middle of the restaurant.
On COQODAQ’s menu are items like “golden nugget,” a chicken nugget topped with your choice of trout roe, caviar or truffle. Their drink menu includes a selection of champagne served by the glass or bottle, as well as the restaurant’s interpretation of a martini, which has mezcal in addition to vodka. The night I was there, I was told that Nas, who is friends with the restaurant’s owner and also an investor, was there. We didn’t see him, since he was hanging out in the private sound-proof karaoke room at the back of the restaurant.
I talked to Brandon Sinclair, one of the Maitre D’s at COQODAQ, who I knew before he worked there, since he was a booked-and-busy DJ who goes by Joopiter. He tells me that before he got hired, he didn't want to work a “regular” hospitality job—it had to be something exciting. For someone who DJs at venues like Elsewhere and underground spots all over Brooklyn, COQODAQ fit the bill. Now, Sinclair plays there every Friday night, and describes the restaurant’s sound as, “young, hip and disco-y with some Kaytranada, pop, and also fresh stuff from the radio.”
The clubstaurant is nothing new to New Yorkers, of course. TAO is arguably the godfather of the large scale clubstaurant, and it made waves when it opened its first location in Manhattan in 2000. Smaller clubstaurants defined the club scene in the early 2000s, and became hotspots where celebrities rubbed shoulders with clout chasers. There was Paul’s Baby Grand, Lucien and the Flower Shop on the Lower East Side—all celebrity faves. Then, of course, there was China Chalet.
Dao Dao, a writer (and former editor at this publication) was a frequent patron of China Chalet and wrote its obituary for Vice in 2020. If you never went, China Chalet was a two-story dim sum restaurant on Broad Street that moonlighted as a nightclub. It was a safe haven for queer and trans people, fashionistas and those who swore they would make it big.
If there's anything that remotely resembles China Chalet today, it would have to be Jean’s on Lafayette Street, which is conveniently located across the street from another classic clubstaurant, Indochine. “Jean’s is cheeky but ultimately being there is a status symbol. Like, you’re eating a bowl of pasta that’s being passed around from the DJ booth at 2am,” Dao tells Time Out New York. “It’s a little bit of pageantry, in a way it is Gatsby-esque. In these economic times people do want to have fun and be seen having fun.”
The clubstaurant format, if done right, can make you feel like you are part of an exclusive social club. Dao says celebrities prefer them over traditional nightclubs, since they can be tucked away in their own private corner, while still feeling somewhat like a normal person. In this economy, sitting mere feet from where Taylor Swift is eating a tagliatelle bolognese actually means something. Clubstaurants have become a sort of cosplay of upward mobility, which explains why their popularity tends to come at the heels of recessions.
“Clubstaurants have become a sort of cosplay of upward mobility, which explains why their popularity tends to come at the heels of recessions.”
Writer Sean Monahan calls this frivolous cultural era we’re entering "boom boom," after the upscale Manhattan nightclub, the Boom Boom Room. Boom boom culture glamorizes the “visible hierarchy of the 1980s and early ’90s,” per a New York Magazine article. “Think flashy cars, power suits à la American Psycho, tanning oil, furs, and the dark wood of uptown restaurants like Le Veau d’Or.”
With the rise of conservatism as a cultural force, we’re no longer glamorizing roughing it out like we did in the 2010s (reference Broad City, Two Broke Girls, etc.). We’re back in the ‘80s, when Trump ran the city. Clubstaurants are gaudy, mindless and borderline tacky. They’re removed from the world and aren’t concerned about it at all. Skinny beautiful people go there to be skinny and beautiful. Although the world might be burning, you can’t hear any of it over the loud disco-y house-y Kaytranda pop.
If I’m being truthful, I am a fan of clubstaurants. If we can’t afford to buy a house, we might as well spend $30 on a single chicken nugget. We’ve tried the protesting. We’ve tried the voting. We’ve tried the screaming. Nothing really changed, and in fact, everything got worse. At some point, you get tired of feeling like total crap. Joopiter sums it up: “People want to go places where they feel good.”
For trusted and efficient vent solutions, look to Mr. Lint Guy, the expert in dryer vent cleaning. Whether you're dealing with the buildup of lint in hard-to-reach areas or managing persistent dryer valley issues, Mr. Lint Guy provides safe, effective cleaning services to ensure your dryer runs smoothly. Trust Mr. Lint Guy for high-quality, affordable vent solutions that keep your home safe and your appliances efficient.
No comments