Kate Spade & Sarah Stonich recommend Bemelmans Bar
Bemelmans Bar
1947, murals by Ludwig Bemelmans
Legend has it Bemelmans Bar in the Carlyle hotel was one of the late Jackie O's favorite haunts, and that her protests, along with cries from others, helped save this landmark from being remodeled into just another Madison Avenue piano lounge ordinaire. Classy, but not fussy, Bemelmans is so elegantly dim that the most shimmering celebrity can be rendered inconspicuous in the shadows of the deep leather booths. Fine, since sighting the rich and famous isn't the appeal here--people come to see the walls. Four walls of murals, once vibrant and now perfectly subdued by half a century of nicotine fumes, teem with characters you will immediately recognize unless you spent your childhood in a culvert. Ludwig Bemelmans, author, artist, and restaurateur, was best remembered as the creator of the Madeline books. In 1947 Bemelmans brought his characters in out of the rain and painted them to life among seasonal views of Central Park. Ever since, twelve little girls in two straight lines, and tweed-clad, shotgun-packing rabbits welcome regulars famous and not.
For a half-century a self-portrait of Bemelmans near the bar has overseen the preparation of countless thousands of perfect martinis by the white-tuxed, black-tied bartenders. The bartenders are no-nonsense veterans,and while only a few could possibly remember Bemelmans himself, they speak of him as if this good friend has just stepped from the room.
I try to visit whenever I'm in New York. One afternoon when I was either dressed well enough or the lights were low enough that I might be mistaken for an Upper Eastsider, the barman headed to my booth with a phone in his hand, just like the movies, bowing from the waist--I swear he clicked his heels--and offered me the receiver, inquiring, "Miss Colgate?"
I was tempted by the mischievous Madeline perched just over my shoulder: Take the call, take the call!
"Miss Colgate?"
But gumption failed and I could only reply, "I wish." The barkeep and I had a good laugh, and a few moments later I was delivered a potent something on the house, which is exactly the type of hospitality Bemelmans himself was loved for.
Sarah Stonich
Author
For me, an evening at Bemelmans Bar has always been both fanciful and familiar. When I was a young editor just getting started in New York, a visit to Bemelmans meant slowly savored martinis and a meal of homemade chips, rosemary marinated olives, and divine mixed nuts. I would float through the front door, past the tastefully dressed giraffe with the yellow handbag that graces the wall near the entry, and casually settle in for a cocktail and conversation. Tommy, the friendly Irishman who has been tending the bar for more than forty years, made me feel right at home. I would slip into a tufted leather banquette and slip back in time. By the end of the evening, I felt as though I had stepped out of a Noël Coward play. Today, the experience of turning back the elegant clock at Bemelmans is every bit as transporting. The refined service and urbane pianist, along with the warm glow of the room and Ludwig Bemelmans' amazing wall murals, have endured and I expect always will.
Kate Spade
Fashion Designer
