International Hotspot Beefbar Comes To Tribeca Bearing Bone-In Steak

At the preview party for Beefbar, the new Tribeca restaurant that marks the first U.S. outpost of the high-end global franchise that’s known for menus highlighting fine cuts of meat, I have my best bite of the year. As I sample an unbelievably tender beef quesadilla topped with chimichurri and a hint of truffle, an elevated version of my favorite snack, I make eye contact with a woman in Manolos carrying a Chanel crossbody flap bag, the third of such bags I’ve seen in the last hour.

First opened in 2005 in Monte Carlo, Beefbar has locations in essentially every party capital of the world, including Dubai, Mykonos, St. Barts, and Saint-Tropez. Now, the house of beef has taken over the former Nobu space — and if the March 21 soirée is any indication, it’s going to be a hotspot. By 8 p.m., coat check is already at capacity, as guests stuff their Moncler puffers into the corners of the gold-tiled room. By 8:30, bouncers are holding the door.

“I just got back from France,” I overhear while snaking my way through three-piece suits and maxi dresses crowding the expansive seating area to the majestic, wood-paneled bar. A live neo-funk band roars. An older man asks a younger woman to dance. When she declines, he pleads, “But it’s Beefbar, baby!” Guests discuss travel plans and hedge funds while eating bites of Wagyu gyoza, which are served in individual plastic trays of sauce. I pass a glass window, where inside, thick cuts of beef hang like marionettes, beautiful enough to be tacked onto a dress for Lady Gaga.

“I brought in 250 million since January 1. But, like, it’s split between a bunch of different investors,” a man in a suit next to me at the bar says to his friend as I await my mezcalita, which is essentially a mezcal margarita served up, with a sprig of rosemary. The crowd is buttoned up: Girls in mini fur shrugs and stilettos gab over glasses of pale pink rosé; the mesh and midriffs of fashion parties are nowhere to be found.

But as this thought crosses my mind, a great equalizer is set in front of me — something both the stiletto girls and I are equally excited about diving into: a thick cut of bone-in steak sizzling on a cast-iron skillet. “Take a fork,” the server prompts. I stab one of the fresh-cut chunks and let the fatty, salty beef melt in my mouth. I may be in Tribeca, but part of me is touching heaven.

Beefbar opens to the public April 4.