The New Yorker

"Out comes a parade of sushi, though the chefs identifying their creations don’t always make themselves heard over Drake or Jay Z. Guessing games ensue: “Did he say scallop sperm?”"

"A drink called Beets by Dre contained beet juice, gin, and rosemary—O.K. if borscht’s your thing; watch the white jeans."

"Raising a salutary rumpus for summer’s dog days, the Matthew Marks gallery gives three locations over to “What Nerve! Alternative Figures in American Art, 1960 to the Present.”"

"At dinner, "girls’-night posses descend for watermelon margaritas and guacamole. The waitresses wear short, calico-print dresses, and have the spirit of the unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.""

""Order a champagne cocktail on a Tuesday night at the bar, and the spiral of lemon rind bobbing on the bubbles looks like it’s having more fun than the clientele.""

""Threes combats short attention spans by having different restaurants occupy its kitchen for brief residencies, which, alongside the ever-changing beer menu, keeps things novel.""