Louie, Louie

Louie, Louie

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Things that take four years to happen:

Presidential elections. Leap years. Olympics. College (most of the time). This place…

It’s Louie and Chan, a long-delayed multiroom den of pizza and underground doings on the LES. It’s opening tomorrow, and here’s how you’ll work it.

Dinner upstairs among the stilts and statues.

That’s where the marble bar and dusky restaurant are. There are truffle pizzas and Italian cocktails (see: a rye-heavy version of an amaretto sour), and, yeah, the stilts. In the elaborate (made-up) mythology of the place, the stilts belonged to Chan, a circus performer/bon vivant and friend of Louie in the early 20th century.

Extremely private parties.

Next door to the restaurant is basically your great-grandmother’s mind-blowing dining room. You. Fifteen friends. A custom multicourse menu. Roasted veal rack. Bottles of wine. It’s all at your disposal.

Asian cocktails in a stairwell nook downstairs.

Soon enough, you’ll have a tiny, four-person bar with a separate drink arsenal. It’s tucked below the staircase, with a sconce-lit nook for… you’ll figure it out.

Getting down till the break of dawn.

There’s a seriously over-the-top sound system. Name-brand DJs will be here into the wee hours. And a back room dance floor that, on a good day, fits maybe 75 people.

You know, everything you need for a nice quiet night out.


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