Right now, you can hit the black marble bar in the mornings. Ogle the cheese and wine stashed behind glass panels. Observe the twisty glass coffee drip thing that looks like something Walter White could use. Possibly see a road-weary celebrity abusing caffeine on a leather banquette.
You’ll probably want a bacon-and-cheddar scone with a dulce de leche espresso before proceeding to the garden-y front patio to work on making the Wells Fargo scandal look sexy in your next screenplay. It’s what you might call a power patio. But shouldn’t.
Then, starting next Monday, you’ll come by in the evening for Negronis made with prosecco or something red and Italian selected for you by a Fat Duck/Providence/French Laundry vet.
And should the mood strike you, the Naples-born chef will make you lobster montanara (that fried pizza thing), squid ink arancini and branzino carpaccio to keep your energy up.