Café Sabarsky sits on the ground floor of the Neue Galerie on the Upper East Side, a museum of early 20th-century German and Austrian art and design, housed in a 1914 Beaux-Arts mansion at 1048 Fifth Avenue - designed by Carrère & Hastings, the same firm responsible for the New York Public Library. The building was originally commissioned by industrialist William Starr Miller, later occupied by Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt III, and then, after a long stretch as the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, purchased in 1994 by two friends who shared a vision: art dealer Serge Sabarsky and businessman Ronald S. Lauder. Their friendship spanned nearly thirty years. It began in 1967, in Sabarsky’s gallery on Madison Avenue, where Lauder was a frequent visitor and, eventually, a close confidant. The two shared an almost devotional commitment to the art and design of Vienna circa ~1900, and talked endlessly of opening a museum to bring it all together in one place. Sabarsky died in 1996, five years before the museum opened, but Lauder saw it through in his honor, and named the café after his friend.

This is not a preamble. It is the story. Because if Tibi Eats is about more than the food - which it always has been - then understanding what and why a place exists is the very foundation upon which everything else is built. The Neue Galerie, and by extension Café Sabarsky, exists as an act of friendship, of conviction, and of a long, patient belief that certain things are worth doing even when the timeline is uncertain.

We dined on a Thursday evening - the quieter mode of a place that is never truly quiet, but assumes a more intimate, considered register after dark. There is a small table lamp at each marble table, its pleated shade casting a warm amber glow against the dark wood paneling that lines the walls. The room is outfitted not as a themed approximation of a Viennese café, but as an actual one — furnished with period objects that are themselves museum-quality artifacts: lighting fixtures by Josef Hoffmann, furniture by Adolf Loos, banquettes upholstered in an Otto Wagner fabric from 1912. In one corner, a Bösendorfer grand piano waits for the evenings when cabaret and chamber performances bring the room to a different kind of life. At dinner, the room does not feel decorated. It feels inhabited.

We opened with two things best understood as acts of orientation. Firstly, a Spaten - the Munich lager, poured cold into a tall glass, in that exact state of refreshment that only a proper Central European lager can provide. Then, and more to the point of the meal itself - the Weisswurst mit Brezen & Händelmaier’s. Two pale Bavarian sausages - smooth, mild, delicately spiced with parsley and lemon - curled on either side of a warm, salt-flecked pretzel, with a generous pool of Händelmaier’s sweet mustard anchoring the plate. This is a dish that asks almost nothing of you, and gives quite a lot in return. It is simple in the way that things which have been done correctly for a very long time tend to be - not uncomplicated, but resolved.

The Geräucherte Forellen Crêpe followed - and here the kitchen pivots, quietly and with considerable confidence, from the rustic to the refined. A crêpe, tightly rolled around a filling of smoked trout and fresh herbs, topped with a generous crown of piped crème fraîche and a bouquet of dill and microgreens, surrounded at its base by thin cucumber ribbons, a radish slice, and a single heirloom tomato, the whole plate finished with a swirl of bright herb oil. A dish that is composed and elegantly precise in the way that good Viennese cooking tends to be, which is to say that nothing on the plate is accidental, and nothing is wasted.

In order of appearance: the Rote Rüben Salat - a beet salad that, despite being a salad, carries itself with the presence of something more significant. Deep crimson beets, thinly sliced and layered into something closer to architecture than a plate of greens, finished with a drizzle of cream and a crown of fresh herbs, joined by a single quenelle of goat cheese that functions as the counterargument to everything warm and earthy in the beets, as a sherry vinaigrette binds it all together with a quiet, and honest, acidity. And the Bratwurst mit Bratkartoffeln - two sausages, grill-marked, their skins pulled taut and darkened in just the right places, with a tumble of pan-fried potatoes, golden and crisped at the edges, scattered with herbs. The evening's special was a duck: fanned slices of rosy, just-cooked breast, its skin rendered and deeply colored. Beside them, a breaded herb dumpling - round, golden-crusted, giving way to something soft and aromatic within - and two quenelles of orange squash purée, smooth and vivid, resting against a bed of braised red cabbage having absorbed the color and patience of a long, slow cook.

Finally, the Wiener Schnitzel, mit Erdäpfel-Gurkensalat - the plate is placed and, with humility, proceeds to occupy the space that the entire food conversation had been leading toward. Veal, pounded thin, breaded, and fried to a color somewhere between pale gold and caramel, wearing a costume-like, blistered and airy crust that naturally and delicately maintains that deeply important, and ever-so slight separation from the meat. Two lemon wedges rest on top, a small heap of lingonberries sits in the upper corner - tart, jammy, the necessary interruption - and beside it, a clean mound of potato-cucumber salad, modestly dressed, cool.

The desserts, I will confess, arrived at a moment in the meal when resolve had already been substantially compromised - which is to say, we were not making decisions so much as capitulating to what the evening had already decided for us. The plates that were ultimately returned to the kitchen were not plates so much as evidence: the scattered, powdery wreckage of an Apfelstrudel, its pastry shattered into flakes, a last smear of cream on the rim; and a second plate showing the dark residue of something rich and chocolate-adjacent that had been dispatched entirely, without ceremony (my elaborate way of saying I can’t remember what this was). The desserts at Café Sabarsky are not the kind you deliberate over. They are the kind you finish before you’ve had a chance to think about whether you intended to.

There is a version of New York in which a restaurant inside a museum feels like a compromise - a convenience, or an afterthought perhaps. Café Sabarsky is the definitive argument against this logic. It is a case in which the institution around it has not diluted the dining experience, but instead imbued it with something that very few standalone restaurants can manufacture: genuine cultural weight. To sit in that room at night, beneath Hoffmann’s fixtures, against Wagner’s fabric, with a pretzel, a cold lager, and a schnitzel that earns its reputation, is to understand something about what it means to protect and transmit a culture - to say, with deliberate intention, this mattered then, and it still matters now.

Dinner reservations via Resy. Walk-ins welcome for dessert and drinks in the evening, based on availability. Closed Tuesdays. Note that Café Sabarsky closes for the summer beginning May 27, 2026, and reopens in the autumn — a detail worth being aware of, and a good reason not to wait.

Over the course of the last year, I have neither been reminded of, nor thought of, a restaurant more often than Stissing House. This restaurant has lived rent free in my mind, visions of which were a daily and natural occurrence, and I had never even been. Until now.

The legend of Stissing House is of a Greek mythical quality. Built in 1782, the structure wherein Stissing House currently resides was once an 18th century water hole. Most popular around the dawn of the United States, watering holes served as social and political hubs vital in fostering a sense of community in our newly established American country towns. These establishments were typically made up of a tavern, lodging for travelers and their horses, and in the case of Stissing House, America’s first domed ballroom. Up until the first World War when steel and iron railroad tracks were dismantled for use in ammunition production, Pine Plains was a bustling cross-section of the state of New York. With the loss of an essential means of transportation through this area of the state, Pine Plains, and consequently Stissing House, fell off the map.

There is, however, a light at the end of this tunnel, which appears when film producer and beer tycoon, Christian Eisenbeiss, purchased the property in the 1990s and, together with Dale Mitchell, refurbished the home. Mitchell, an expert in timber construction, has built a plethora of notable projects throughout his career, one of which is his TapNZ NOTASHED venture, which utilizes salvaged wood from the old Tappan Zee Bridge structure to build hundreds of affordable, tiny homes.

One may be curious, given that this is a Tibi Eats article, why food has yet to be mentioned three paragraphs in. Well, Tibi Eats is, and always has been, about more than just the food. Our articles are about the people, the philosophies, and the histories of the special places that we are grateful to come across, and in this case, the incredible backstory of Stissing House helps to provide some additional context as to why we drove 70 miles, there and back, on a nine degree Saturday night, to experience the hospitality of Chef Clare de Boer.

Chef Clare purchased the home in 2022, turning Stissing House into the concept it is today. In “turning” I mean turning back, toward what Stissing House was in the 19th century, for influence in her approach to its present design, service, offerings, and more. Upon arriving to the historic property, one walks up a short path lined by snow capped flora and icicles so scenically placed that one may mistake them for purposeful decoration, which of course they are, purposeful that is, in that Chef Clare must have had a vision of her Stissing House at 8:00 p.m. in February complete with glistening snowflakes and inviting icicles to frame her mossy green, cottage style front door.

Our reservation was at 8:30 p.m., but we planned for a 30-minute buffer to enjoy a glass of wine and monkey nuts in The Woodshed. An escape from the city to immerse ourselves in a setting where waiting is no longer a stressful, anxiety inducing burden, but instead a craved and privileged luxury. As peanut shells are tossed into the crackling fire, its sound possessing a natural, effervescently rhythmic quality, guests settle into this cabin-like den by nestling into a unique variety of Bergère chairs with card games a plenty. I would be remiss not to note that the fireplace is ordained with Roseland iron tools, hand-forged made in Maine - a furniture concept that was started in 2023 by none other than Chef Clare and her husband, Luke. At 8:30 p.m., a hostess promptly enters to call our name and gently whisk us away to our table in the center of the dining room - wooden Windsor Chairs, by Roseland of course, locally sourced tableware, textiles, and ceramics, all contributing in both conscious, and subconscious ways to the deeply inspired and warm ambiance.

To start the meal: Ham, Jakes Gouda, and Pickles. This, as a wise soul once said, is the holy trinity of light bites. Jakes Gouda carved straight from the wheel, crystals and all, thinly sliced thick ham with a dot of punchy mustard (a love-tap, if you will), and an assortment of winter vegetables - celery, carrot, endive, and cauliflower - ever so slightly pickled so as to add a tinge of newness to each item while supporting their solo flavor stardom. The three, when eaten together, provide for a simply divine experience.

Moving along to the small plates: Curried Muscles and Winter Citrus with Mint and Endive. A plate of citrus in the dead of winter, with the bright notes of mint and a garnish of crushed Aleppo was the beautifully ironic dish of the night that when paired with a curried bowl of fire-roasted muscles, heat-scars and all, effortlessly primed the palette for the final savory course. Stissing House has a rotating pie dish, served with mash, its make up shifting with the season at hand. This month’s pie is a Steak and Ale Pie, traditional yet refined, with a crust the color of toasted caramel, and topped with flakey salt whose sparkles dance under the soft candlelight. Very rich, very luscious, very necessary this time of year up near the Catskills. Accompanying our pie was a crispy skinned, Wood-Fired Mackerel that sat atop a thin layer of parsley sauce, offering a fresh and bright alternative from which we mixed and mingled.

The entire night, as the kitchen team sent out dish after dish to the dining room, we would observe the occasional ice cream sundae and delectable slice of coconut cake fly by, only to be devoured in smiles and laughter shortly thereafter. So, we did just that. Pastry Chef Suzanne Nelson, formerly of Chez Panisse, has masterfully crafted a dream dessert offering, wherein a Coconut Cake shines above the rest, both in physical stature and pure, unadulterated decadence - the kind of dessert that is incredible in the moment, and somehow equally as special the next morning. A piece of Stissing House at home.

Our night came to a close while sharing a dessert with the couple dining at the neighboring table - our server overheard our inability to narrow our options, and sent over the dessert we both, coincidentally, left to be enjoyed next time. This was a longer article than usual, I know, but sometimes it takes time to reach the good things in life, like Stissing House. With the right company, an hour and a half drive up to Pine Plains, NY can feel like 20-minutes. Given that math, and that which is to be received at the end of the expedition, the trip to Stissing House is a sure and worthy endeavor, and I would implore any and all to make the journey.

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As Tibi Eats has evolved with time, we have received many requests expressing the desire to know more about our Tibi travel excursions. The last couple articles for this section have been a reflection of that, as we previously highlighted a wonderful experience staying at the Gjelina Hotel in Venice, and our trip to Spain in early August provides a fantastic continuation of this creative direction for the Tibi Eats franchise.

We visited Barcelona on a Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, the quieter days of the week, a noiselessness that was further accentuated by the fact that most of the younger, local population was also on holiday during our time in the city. This set and setting allowed for a uniquely intimate connection with the city, free from sidewalk congestion, fostering an ability to walk-in to most, not all, but most of the incredible museums, galleries, concept stores, and restaurants with a relative ease that is generally unfamiliar when visiting Europe in the summer. Sure, there is a certain energy ushered into a city and its night-life by the younger generations, but for the purpose of this trip, the end to a beautifully long and eventful summer, all we really wanted was the freedom to explore and to dine effortlessly, not into the wee hours of the night, but until we felt satiated, and that we did.

Though we ultimately opted to stay at a friend’s cozy apartment in Sant Antoni, we did look into a few charming hotels, the two worthy of distinguished mention being Hotel Neri and Casa Sagnier - the former is located in Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter, while the latter resides in the more central area of the city. Our first night began with drinks at the historic Bar Allegria before walking over to a more complete dining experience at Gresca, a restaurant by Rafael Peña that will celebrate a 20-year anniversary next year, and for good reason. The next morning we visited Raw Studio’s new location in L’Esquerra de L’Eixample for a coffee and fresh breakfast. The space is raw, as the name would suggest, but layered, with an innate warmth derived from minimalist floral arrangements and Ring 3 color tones - coffee by La Cabra, a “Copenhagen” plate, and Yogur con Granola y Fruta set the tone for the day.

We then set off to explore a few concept shops and galleries, Bassal Store for a tightly curated range of young contemporary designers, Muy Fragile for the weird and intriguing selection of jewelry and found objects, and Terranova for a passionate and thoughtful selection of books on photography, art, and culture. A mid-day snack was found outdoors at Ciutat Comtal, where an Estrella on tap and a Pan con Tomate held us over until The dinner.

I say The dinner because it is the meal and experience from which the fundamental inspiration for this article is derived - Xemei, a Cocina Venexiana. You may be curious why and/or how a Venetian restaurant has found itself as the highlight of our Tibi Eats for Barcelona, so let me explain. Xemei is the profound work of twin brothers Stefano and Max Colombo, chef and manager respectively - the two are also the creative minds behind Bar Súper, Bar Brutal, and the various Can Pizzerias scattered throughout the city. This year, 2025, marks the 20th anniversary of Xemei, and we just so happened to be dining on the same night that they hosted their team for a celebration of their two decades of service (celebration in the hospitality industry means providing service for those you love). Upon sitting down, we were immediately embraced with open arms. Conversation with the couple to our left turned into a full evening of coincidences and core memories. As wine was tasted and shared (with everyone), bottles flew through the air between, under, and around the tables with a careless grace, the kind that keeps you on the edge of your seat, and forces the relinquishment of any worry, be it spillage or shatters, because such is life, and this moment of pure joy and laughter, of new friends and cherished lovers, is worth submitting to.

The Xemei wine list is our dream curation, full of both natural wines from young producers and those of traditional production methods. We began with L’Opera des Vins, Les Années Folles by the classic Frenchman and legendary wine artisan Jean-Pierre Robinot - effervescent, perfectly light, subtly tense, but deeply emotional. To be honest, I lost track after this. I think my glass was traded around so many times that by the end of our meal, it was at the opposite end of the restaurant held by a hand whose owner’s name I would not remember, but a face I could not forget. Images of the meal itself are scarce, the sign of an acutely present experience, but the memories flow back in endless waves. A Vitello Tonnato of pure elegance and perfection, Black Squid Ink Spaghetti obliging a fulfilled grin with each bite, a black grin, the prettiest and most special of grins, and a Goat Shoulder for our Segundo warmly recollected by the tender meat that did not just fall off the bone, but lightly slipped with the soft pressure of a fork, as it should.

We were done, ready to tap out, but were lured back into the wondrous Xemei flavor void by a Tiramisu, perfectly jiggly mango Panna Cotta, and limoncello on the house. We walked away from our table with unrelenting smiles and very, very full hearts - a level of contentment only attainable by one thing – seeing the care and passion driving those with a true, and real, dedication to their craft for no reason other than a genuine love for the game. Such is the ongoing trend here amongst our featured travels, and the team behind Xemei is precisely emblematic of the places we want to share with you all. Not because they asked, not because they need or want the attention, but because they deserve it.

**Honorable Mentions**: Fundació Joan Miró, Odd Kiosk (coffee/art), Bar del Pla (tapas), Ultramarinos Marin (mariscos), House of Rowdy (vintage)

We have been traveling to Paris, France around four times a year for the last two decades. Throughout this period of time, a lot has changed in the city, as does naturally everywhere. With this natural evolution has arisen a subtle changing of the guard, if you will. Questions of the definition of true luxury, what it means to live and travel well, to eat and experience the art of a different culture, or merger of cultures, are answered in a different way than before. Is luxury measured by the thread count of our sheets? Or by the care through the hand that wove them? Is it represented by an undying support in the belief that the customer is always right? Or is the customer maybe, sometimes, wrong? Where does the identity of a brand come into play? Is something interesting and creative because of the brand, or because of the person and the intent behind its inception? Or, can it be both?

With these questions in mind, we planned two nights in Paris. Sleep was found at Hôtel Bourg Tibourg - the second project from the owners of Hotel Côstes. 24 intimately designed rooms, characterized by a rich and warm palette of dirt clay reds and mustard yellows, they are really more like time capsules, and are a striking juxtaposition to the relative modernity of its outdoor surroundings. Slightly small and constrained in that ever so charming Parisian manner, the bedroom flows directly into the bathroom where a mirror frames a detailed reflection of the sleep quarters, granting the illusion of space where there is none. The hotel is a Bridgitte Bardot album in real life, specifically the Bubble Gum compilation, released in 1994, with songs like Une histoire de plage and Bonnie and Clyde.

During our time we stopped by the regulars - Septime la Cave, Tarantula, Maison - but the highlight this trip was found at Le Cheval d’Or. There was a rarity in our experience at this restaurant, the type that occurs once or twice a year if you’re lucky, and the conditions of which are defined by many intangibly tangible details that alone may confuse, but together form the harmony of, well, life. Inconspicuously placed in the Quartier Jordain, the East Asian flavor driven bistro’s facade coincidentally mimics a very similar color scheme to that of Hôtel Bourg Tibourg. Inside, exposed white brick walls and an open ceiling present the skeleton of the space in an elegant manner as the rawness of the physical interior is balanced by minimal wooden tables, chairs, and bar-tops of varying shades of light brown. Metal lamps hang from the ceiling, accenting the unveiled, silver air-ventilation tube that streams overhead in the foyer, while an arched entryway frames the dining room - a frame that is reinforced by another arch that leads to the restrooms in the rear.

There are two dining options at Cheval d’Or - Menu Or (nine course tasting menu) or Menu Cuivre (six courses à la carte) - we opted for the latter. A croque madame on shrimp toast, mapo tofu tortellinis, thickly sliced tuna akami, and a perfectly steamed fish, whose name I cannot recall, gently floating in a light sauce made of agretti, ginger, and spring onion - these are a few of the beautifully creative dishes we are grateful to have experienced. While typically savory leaning, our palette was delightfully rounded out by the freshest, crispest, cleanest pavlova that incorporated citrus flavors of meyer lemon, mandarin, and orange.

In addition to the food, the wine list at Cheval d’Or is one to be studied for far longer than the time before requesting a glass, or bottle, allots - our choice to accompany the food was a white wine from a fantastic, younger French winemaker, Fabien Duperray, who founded Domaine Jules Desjourneys in 2007. Producing in La Chapelle-de-Guinchay, Chénas, Beaujolais, his white wines have the substance and character of the boldest reds, and his reds have the ease and approachability of the greatest whites.

Other details of this space worth mentioning are the sculpturally textured, almost mosaic-like white walls of the restrooms, the open kitchen and its harmonic tool and utensil organization, and the people. The staff, the chefs, the cooks, the servers, all deeply interested in being the best at their specific craft within, and contributing to, the greater ethos of Cheval d’Or. This night was a core memory for inspiration, for loving life, and for experiencing life with others that you love. The kind of experience that touches you with a lasting feeling akin to leaving your family’s home after a wholesome Sunday evening dinner, where culinary ability is less important than the conversation and atmosphere - Cheval d’Or just happens to combine the best of it all.

When I traveled to Los Angeles in April to conduct research for the new CP City Guides project, I knew the restaurants we wanted to feature, the shops we love, the sights and sounds to experience, but I had no idea where to sleep. While LA certainly has an abundance of beautiful hotels, there were none I could find that truly resonated, none that emphasized the hand behind the work, the importance of independence, the uniquely inspiring culture of Southern California. That was the case, until I was made aware, by a deeply tapped in creative, of Gjelina Hotel. Given my background as a cook, I was well aware of Gjelina’s culinary prowess as a restaurant, but a hotel? I was in awe from the jump.

Gjelina, started in 2008 as a restaurant on Abbot Kinney, is named as a tribute to the mother of Fran Camaj, the brilliant founder who I had the pleasure of sitting with on my last day in the city – we’ll touch more on this later. The Gjelina Group is essentially a treasure hunt of creative endeavors that take the form of imaginative concepts linked by one common thread, that which Fran loves and is best for his family, employees, and city - the deeper you dig the more you discover. After opening Gjelina, Fran opened Gjelina Take-Away (GTA), followed by Gjusta Bakery a few years later. Originally a commissary kitchen to support Gjelina and GTA, in 2014 Gjusta naturally evolved into an all-day bakery, deli, and café, but more precisely, it is a continuation of Fran’s mission to support the local Venice community with thoughtfully nourishing food and culture.

The evolution continues, and in 2016 with Shelley Kelyn Armistead at the helm, Gjusta Goods opened next door to the bakery. The market sells artisanally crafted items for life and goods for the home - locally produced linens (the same ones from Gjelina), cookbooks, and stunning floral arrangements from Gjusta Flower Shop, which opened inside Gjusta Goods in 2022. Organic progression is the name of the game here, as a tight-knit Gjelina team continues to pursue veracious passion over massive profit, which is truly the best way their ventures can be depicted – passion projects executed with the highest degree of detail, care, and love.

As we carry on down the Gjelina rabbit hole, we find ourselves in Gjusta Studios, an interdisciplinary gallery space tucked away behind Gjusta Goods featuring artists across a range of creative mediums. Upstairs, above the bakery, goods market, and studio, you’ll find Gjusta Apartment, a 700-square foot space furnished like the rooms at Gjelina Hotel, with especially curated vintage homewares and fittings, made-to-order furniture, bespoke vintage rugs, locally sourced ceramics, and more. Oh, and all the carefully selected items in the apartment are available for purchase.

The next treasure to be discovered is the Gjelina Hotel. Opened in 2023 just one block from the Venice boardwalk and a 12-minute walk from Gjelina and Gjusta Bakery, the hotel has 27 rooms and suites of varying size and shape, each uniquely designed and out-fitted. The experience is that of a home away from home, cozy and perfectly imperfect with a clear hand and human eye behind every decision and detail, all the way down to the mis-matched teacup set from the 80s. Each morning begins with a complimentary coffee and pastry from Gjusta Bakery, followed by a warm and breezy walk along Venice beach as you return to your room, sandy and salty haired, before the day officially begins.

Normally, when experiencing new restaurants, hotels, and others of the like, it can take a moment to fall in love, to feel at home and part of the family, but in the case of Gjelina, few, if any, hospitality concepts have made such an inspiring impact on us in such a short period of time. On my last night in Venice, I received an email from Fran to meet for a coffee, perfectly timed as I had one more day in the city and was deeply interested in rounding out the trip through a conversation with the man who started it all. I was incredibly curious to learn his story, the why behind Gjelina and its many projects, and the principles that have driven Fran, consciously or subconsciously, to where he stands today.

Overarching everything Fran does is a genuine desire to provide for the Venice community and his employees, with an immense emphasis on fostering a family atmosphere within the brand, an effort that is felt by all who pass through any of the Gjelina Group’s doors. Nothing has been forced into existence, a fact that is abundantly clear when observing the various concepts from a bird’s eye view and seeing the deeply rooted, principle oriented through-line that ties them all together. An insistence on surrounding yourself with and providing for good people, on living a fulfilled and family-oriented life, and on the importance of maintaining the agency to make decisions, both creative and business - these are the principles of Fran, and consequently those of the Gjelina Group as well. (Sounds a lot like our ethos at Tibi, so it’s no surprise that everything at Gjelina resonates so deeply with us.)

In the words of Fran, “We try as hard as we possibly can to make it appear as though we haven’t tried at all.” Well, we felt it, and I am positive others do and will as well. Our gratitude goes out to the wonderful Gjelina team, from dishwasher to CEO, for cultivating and caring about the little things, facilitating endless core memories in the process. We can’t wait to be back.

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The city where morning runs on empty streets give perspective to a side of Paris that you won’t see unless you are up before 6 am, one accompanied by garbage men, construction workers, and others who make the city run (no pun intended). Of course, along with these hard-working laborers are the bakers, pastr…

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It’s an 88 degree, spring evening in Soho. For all intents and purposes, this is summer. I’m drenched, the humidity is insane. It’s the kind of summer heat that feels okay while you’re moving, walking around the streets, but once you arrive at your destination, the sweat that was seemingly hiding decides to appear all at once. I think that’s just part o…

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This year, for our Spring/Summer and Fall/Winter 2024 collections, we shot a couple campaigns in studios around NYC, but in early April we made our way down to St. Simon’s Island (SSI), Georgia for a four day shoot that was over six months in the making. Our team of 13 would be shooting three models at six different locations over three days, with one day devoted to scouting and still life. In my eyes, this trip represents an ultimate full circle moment for Tibi and Amy. SSI is where Amy grew up, it is where the first few thousand dresses were delivered by 18-wheeler to my grandparent’s garage just off the Sea Palms golf course, it is where our family has gathered for the last 20+ years during the holidays, and it is now where we shot what are arguably four of the best Tibi collections of the last 3 decades. A full circle moment.

The ability of our small team to mesh, collaborate, and read each other’s minds is why we can successfully pull off these high-stakes, on location photoshoots with very little to no margin for error. Sure, you can learn a lot about someone as you watch them scarf down an RX bar at 5:30 am on the way to a remote beach for a 16 hour day in the sun, but the strength of this bond especially grows with each family meal at the end of these long days on set.

Our first group meal was a late one at Gnat’s Landing in Red Fern Village after a day of scouting and still life photography. Gnat’s is a SSI institution that has been around since 1999. I have vivid memories as a child running across the street to Gnat’s for a chicken fingers and french fries break before running back to my Grandfather’s art gallery to paint and roam around his studio all day. The classic Gnat’s slogan: “remember… if you want home cookin' - stay home. And always, free beer tomorrow” continues to ring abundantly true, and as the same surfboards and heritage beer signs from 2005 adorn the wood planked walls, it is a restaurant that I would dub a quintessential island staple with a home that could be none other than SSI.

The next day we ventured out bright and early to photograph the Fall ‘24 and Winter Capsule ‘24 collections amongst the driftwood and weathered trees on Driftwood Beach on Jekyll Island. The trees on Driftwood Beach have been severely weathered by the sun, wind, salt water, and various other conditions to create a beautiful, yet eery scene as their partial remains intertwine with the dark sand and other living aspects of the environment. This set provided the perfect backdrop for the Fall and Winter Capsule collections, and produced some of the most intriguing campaign assets of the entire trip. For lunch on Jekyll Island we made a short diversion from the beach to Tortuga Jack’s, a classic Baja-Mexican restaurant with a massive oceanfront tiki-hut bar. There you will find Consuela, Wall-E’s second girlfriend, a robot food runner that dances plates to your table as an array of mariachi tunes stream from her speakers.

Aside from this big group lunch, most days our crew was fueled by Frosty’s Griddle & Shake or Sea Salt Healthy Kitchen, both spots are simple and easy, run by wonderful locals, and are of course incredibly delicious.

Speaking of Frosty’s, for our last night on the island we ordered take-out from Southern Soul BBQ, both of which are run by the talented and creative chef/owner Griffin Bufkin, a SSI legend and long-time high-school friend of Amy’s. Over the last five years I have had the privilege of being surrounded by the best barbecue in the world in Austin, Texas; Southern Soul is the closest thing to Texas barbecue that I have had outside of the state (this is about as big of a praise I can give for any barbecue spot located beyond the Texas borders). We were so exhausted, mentally and physically, that throwing on some Calder sweatpants and getting cozy with the team felt like the perfect way to wrap the trip. We all huddled around a big table outside of our hotel, drank a couple beers, and plated up our barbecue as the team traded core memories from the last four days. A scene that would not have been complete or possible without Southern Soul and their incredible hospitality.

St. Simon’s Island is an island by the locals for the locals, and I think it is fair to say that Tibi plays an integral role in the SSI community; we have had a store on the island for over 24 years and our warehouse, full of the most wonderful, dedicated people, is located just 30 minutes away on the mainland. I love SSI, and I love the creativity that the island pulls out of you; I credit much of the creative success of this trip to the essence of the island, in a special way that does not disrespect the crazy hard work of the Tibi team. The Spring/Summer ‘24 campaigns from SSI are coming out as you read this, and the Fall/Winter ‘24 campaigns will release in a couple of months. This was a truly inspiring trip where I felt incredibly grateful to work in the presence of such professionals at every level of the production, and I hope the content resonates with you all as deeply as it does with us.

Coincidentally, our music director of almost 30 years, Javier Peral, was also in Paris, having just directed the music score for the Helmut Lang FW ‘24 show, and we were lucky enough to catch up with him at Gramme 11 on his last night in the city. Gramme 11, opened in 2023, is the newer and larger rendition of the original Gramme concept. Opened in 2017 in the Marais, Gramme is a hole in the wall type cafe/kitchen known for its wonderful pastries and unique versions of well known dishes like their banh mi hot dog and chipotle popcorn tempura.

Gramme 11 can be defined as a modern Parisian brasserie serving breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The morning and afternoon menu is adorned with traditional French bakery classics as well as modernized and creative takes on these traditions, one of these being the Gramme Grammola, a wonderfully tasty granola made with rolled oats, almonds and hazelnuts, puffed rice, coconut, cranberries and honey. The evening menu is representative of a variety of cultures, served in a tapas style, with Asian, French, and South American cuisine influences most prevalent the night we dined (the menu changes daily depending on the local availability of produce and ingredients).

When Chef Marine Gora and Romain Tellier opened their first petit Gramme location, they sought out to cook fun and comforting food by reimagining more serious classic dishes from their diverse origins. Hailing from an Asian/European family background (Vietnamese mother and Polish-German father), Chef Marine actually started out in the music industry and did not make the jump into the culinary world until the age of 35. The influence of her family history is ubiquitous throughout the menus and cooking techniques employed at both of her restaurants and can also be seen in the design elements of her version of the traditional Parisian brasserie, with little nods to her Vietnamese origins sprinkled throughout.

With respect to its cuisine, hospitality, and wine selection, Gramme 11 is a great example of unassuming luxury practiced with humility and intention. The creativity, modernity, and playfulness of the menu is particularly impressive because of the incredible level of skill required to achieve and execute the simplicity of dishes represented. Some of our favorites were the beet and radicchio salad, potato mille-feuille, and lamb skewer with parsley, cilantro, and pomegranate, each evoking a sense of nostalgia and a taste of the future simultaneously. Before one can reimagine and reinvent a classic, one must garner a deep and innate understanding of the cultural origins of the dish in its most simple form. I think this holds true not just of cooking, but in fashion as well, and in many cases even life.

While working at Este in Austin, TX, I cooked on nearly all the stations in the restaurant, but the sauté station was by far my favorite. There was something about the heat, the pace, and the balancing act of speed and precision that brought out my best cooking. One of the dishes on that station is a steak au poivre but reimagined from a Mexican point of view. This steak was the best steak I had had in Texas and was one of the main reasons why I initially wanted to work for Chef Fermin. It is also probably the most difficult dish on the sauté station to master because of the nuance and intricacies involved in perfecting an au poivre sauce. It was not until I tasted the inspiration for the dish, the filet de boeuf au poivre at Bistrot Paul Bert in Paris, that I truly understood what to be striving for: the consistency, spice profile, color, fat ratio, etc… I had to go all the way back to the roots of the dish to properly execute Chef Fermin’s interpretation of what it could be. Because of experiences in the kitchen like this, I have a great respect and admiration for the dishes I was privileged to try at Gramme 11.

A great Chef (also Fermin) once told me that the best ingredient (the most important) is the one you leave off the plate, and this philosophy clearly prevails in Chef Marine and her team’s approach to cooking. To replicate something great and do it well is very difficult. To then take this replica and reimagine its form to become unique, modern, personalized and relatable at the same time is even harder. Finally, to take this reimagined replica and simplify it yet again to achieve a luxurious and minimalistic, yet profound status may be the hardest feat of all; this is how I would describe the potato mille-feuille on the menu that night.

As we shared a beautiful 2022 pinot noir by Patrick Bouju and discussed Tibi runway show songs dating as far back as 2004, Gramme 11 provided our team with a much needed respite from the commotion and craze that can at times engulf Paris during fashion week, and for that we are very grateful and equally as excited to return next season.

At Tibi, we also love to nerd out, in our case it’s on the little details of personal style, creative pragmatism, and luxury craftsmanship. Our obsession with this is an integral piece of our story, of who we are, and is ultimately the driving factor behind why we do what we do and create what we create. It all boils down to what we love, deeply and personally. Things from the past, present, and future that resonate with us because of their presence somewhere on that timeline.

For our Fall 2024 NYFW presentation, a major aspect of our creative vision shown through in the smaller, more particular components, the ones that you’ll only notice if you care about these sorts of things. How every hanger on the four display racks was a one of one ceramic art piece created by a small, local, South African artist, with love. How each hanger was looped, locked, and knotted by hand onto each rack by locally sourced brown leather ribbon and silver lock stops. How each shoe rested upon one of one ceramic art pieces that we named “the blobs”. How we worked with a local florist to create a specific floral sculpture that would embody and encapsulate the essence of the collection and the exhibition. How we worked with a London based photographer who flew to NYC to shoot our campaign in black and white, emphasizing the creative act of raw, unfiltered photography. How we worked with legend Kristen McMenamy, who was given, and took, free reign of the shoot to be, feel, and create whatever she desired. How every photo placard in the gallery was a handwritten, stream of consciousness description from Amy’s brain, to pen, to paper. How each song on our playlist for the event was curated to pair with the exact emotions that the collection, photographs, and art pieces were meant to evoke.

All of these details, when pieced together, worked to create a memorable moment in time.

I say all of this for two reasons. Firstly, I am writing this one day after we held the gallery exhibition and it is top of mind. But also because my experience at Funke a couple weeks ago was so deeply memorable for paralleled reasons that made our event yesterday so special.

Stepping out of our car in front of Funke we are greeted by two massive flame heaters, intuitively positioned to frame the entrance that is shielded by two massive, gold lined glass doors. Hosts welcomed and led us upstairs to our table which over looked the Damien Hirst inspired installation, think shark in formalin, but chef in pasta laboratory. We were also privy to a view of the entry foyer and bar, the place where “opportunities to see and be seen are balanced with the need to be discrete”.

Art lines the Loro Piana linen covered walls, and by art I mean pieces from Rappaport’s personal collection of Basquiat, Warhol, Ruscha, and Pigozzi. These pieces, among other design elements, like the beauty and luxury of the imported Crema Del Monte and Verde Imperiale marbles, become increasingly evident and eye catching as your dining experience proceeds throughout the night.

Our waiter was from the Bronx, and when dining at an Italian restaurant in America, I honestly would not have it any other way. Funke is an undeniable testament to how the little things, that when delicately pieced together with eager attention, create an ephemerally angelic final product. More to this point, my favorite dishes out of the delicate pastas, pizzas, and robust entrees ordered were actually two of the smallest ones we received: the insalata di finocchi, and the side of smashed, roasted potatoes that accompanied our Costata alla Fiorentina. A top 3 potato dish and certainly in the conversation for the best we’ve ever had. We were not going to get dessert, but are more than grateful that we did, and you should too.

Funke is a masterclass experience, a respectful nod to the old guard, as the torch is confidently passed to Chef Funke and his menus that represent the ultimate consistency, love, and care.

Thus, instead of a trio of restaurants, though we still love our sets of three, for the fourth edition of Tibi Eats I have decided to single out and corner just one special outfit. It is on NYC’s Lower East Side. Its name is Soothr.

While most of the Thai restaurants in New York attempt to cater to everyone, Soothr instead creates the dishes that Thai people in New York may miss eating. Assured in their direction, the triarchy that owns the noodle bar tells the story of their history, one of diverse origin and of myriad cultural influences, through their eclectic hospitality. The experience is the definition of no fuss, no frills. You have 90 minutes within which to enjoy your experience, and this is made abundantly clear in a kind, yet direct manner. Soothr knows who they are and they run toward it, embrace it, and harness it.

Some of the best Thai food in Bangkok is located in the city’s Chinatown. As such, Chinese influence is heavy in the cooking style and technique at Soothr, and the end product is representative of the mix of sub-cultures that define Bangkok’s identity (Chinese immigrants x small Indian community).

“Soothr” is the Thai word for “recipe” in English, and is a name that aligns well with the restaurant’s menu concept, in that the dishes come from, and are inspired by, those of the owner’s families’ recipes. The cocktail menu tells its own story, as drinks are named after propitious gemstones, and are creatively depicted on the handheld trifold by unique and colorful drawings.

The restaurant did not always have as expansive of a menu as it does currently, but was instead a more simple noodle bar that, overtime, naturally and organically grew to incorporate more from the owners’ origins. Over the past two and half years, the young dining establishment has continuously evolved to connect more deeply with its identity, further leaning into its street fair roots and expanding its offerings while being sure to emphasize the unique personal style, taste, and differentiation that drives its intention.

At a time in New York when it may prove difficult to keep a nice dinner for two under $100, Soothr provides the much needed access to a well priced menu with great value. In my opinion, the restaurant feels as though it is motivated by providing determined and friendly hospitality, as well as by supporting a happy and thriving staff, not by maximizing profitability. The staff are hard working, jovial, and maintain a clear and imperative sense of commraderie as they take on the waves of excited diners each night.

Small is good, personal style is good, Soothr is good.

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