New York City has a France problem.

"I’ve never seen anyone cut a baguette the way they cut baguettes at Chez Fifi."

Hello everyone and welcome to another edition of Feed Me After Dark (when I send Feed Me at night). I spent this morning with my sister for her 32nd birthday, and then I got to meet the prince of the West Village, C.O. Bigelow’s new kitten. After that I had a few work calls, but look where we are. Better late than never.

Today’s letter includes: A biting review of the Upper East Side’s Chez Fifi by

J Lee

,

Snaxshot

’s take on Alix Earle’s new investment in an existing cocktail brand, the new (say it with me now, members’) club opening in the former 1OAK space, and more.

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Expense Account is a series on Feed Me, written by semi-anonymous restaurant critic JLee. In this column, you’ll be reading about Business Guy Restaurants — the bistros, sushi spots and lounges that are best rationalized with the involvement of a corporate card. You can read his review of The Yellow Bittern (that we published before the Times published theirs), here.

It’s 2025, and New York City has a France problem.

The city is awash in baguettes, croissants, escargot, frog legs! CANARD! The sidewalks are slick with garlic butter. All of a sudden, every new restaurant is a bistro. Each new bistro is slightly different from the others (allegedly). It doesn’t take a genius to call this out as a glaring indicator of something. When you’re staring down the barrel of a recession, you can't go wrong with steak frites and a martini – as your business or dinner plan.

The entrance of Chez Fifi is unmarked, but you can sense the glow of wealth from blocks away. The restaurant is on the Upper East Side, a neighborhood with no shortage of money. You walk in and feel like you’ve been given entrance to a club that would never have you (me) as a member, in the best way; it's exhilarating. We started at the upstairs bar. It’s glowing, stocked with expensive liqueurs and rare whiskeys, warm shades; bottles of Pappy Van Winkle sit unattended on a ledge (tempting). There are some nice paintings, and handsome furniture that’s more comfortable than you’d have assumed (as expensive furniture should be). There’s a marble fireplace and beautiful molding on the ceiling. I heard the ice was shipped from Japan and so were the bartenders. The downstairs dining room is classic, clad in wood, with some soft floral touches, Paris via BODE. Chez Fifi is beautiful. It’s stunning. Hat’s off to their interior designer, they created one of the best looking rooms in the city and ultimately (spoiler alert), I blame that designer for setting me up for utter disappointment.

Where do you begin your night in a beautiful room? A martini, of course. Chez Fifi has a full list of martinis that are overwrought, and expensive. I was not in the mood for a blue cheese martini (I try to avoid dairy based cocktails, no fat washing for me), but I did order a tomato martini that was… extremely vegetal. They really went all out on the umami, it tasted like soy sauce to me. I like it dirty sometimes, but this was filthy. The menu is described as “a love letter to Paris and San Sebastian”.

French classics with a little extra seafood, sounds great. We ordered the tartare (when in Rome), endive salad, frog legs, the omelette (bistro classic), riz (rice) with little neck clams, and the deviled crab. For an entree, the filet au poivre, because it was boys night, and we were scared of the market priced côte de boeuf.