Velvet Caviar: Drai’s Supper Club is the new temple of seduction and elegance in the Meatpacking District

Drai’s Supper Club is not simply a restaurant—it is an ode to sensuality, a symphony of red velvet, candlelit shadows, and culinary abandon, tucked discreetly into the folds of 14th Street’s gilded edge.

Set across two decadently imagined floors, this new bi-level concept brings French flair and retro glamour to the Meatpacking District with the kind of whisper-soft confidence that requires neither apology nor announcement.

The upstairs dining room is a masterclass in ambiance. Gold-framed figurative art casts sumptuous glances, while reflections ripple in dark glass and brass like memories of a more stylish era. The red velvet curtains don’t just frame the room—they drape it in desire. Everything here feels purposefully slow, like a knowing glance across a cocktail coupe. It is the sort of place you come to linger, not pass through.

Drai’s Supper Club serves sultry jazz and decadent cuisine

This is a supper club made for two—especially if you and your paramour prefer your evenings thick with jazz and suggestion. Tucked-away corners invite secrets, while low lights bathe every conversation in mystery.

The Caviar Pasta arrives like an heiress at her debutante ball: impossibly elegant, touched by Reserve Kaluga caviar, and utterly devastating.Courtesy Diangelo

At the center, a live jazz quarter unfurls its sound. The vocalist’s voice is warm honey over midnight satin—liquid, golden, unforgettable. Every note settles into the bones like champagne poured in silence.

The menu is no less intoxicating. The Caviar Pasta arrives like an heiress at her debutante ball: impossibly elegant, touched by Reserve Kaluga caviar, and utterly devastating. Just when you think you’ve peaked, the halibut arrives—delicately cooked, dressed in scallop foam and a generous kiss of caviar. It floats somewhere between dream and desire, a dish that requires your full attention and rewards it with every bite.

Drinks are as divine as the company they inspire. I ordered my martini the way I always do—Belvedere vodka, ice cold, rinsed in vermouth, with a twist. Simple in theory, difficult to master. Drai’s executed it with exactitude: crisp, balanced, and served with the kind of silent reverence usually reserved for high art or forbidden liaisons.

There is a rhythm to this place—a restrained, elegant buzz that hums through every detail, from the polished service to the clink of crystal and the low laughter spilling through the velvet-lined air. It does not shout. It purrs.

Drai’s Supper Club is where New York’s new romanticism lives. It is a place to dress for, to drink slowly in, to fall for someone across the table, or fall in love with your own reflection just a little more.

Slip into something silk. Order the pasta. Let the music take its time.

This isn’t dinner. This is a dalliance.

Drai’s Supper Club, 244 W 14th St., Meatpacking District. 914-372-4769. draisnyc.com.