We Went to New York’s Trendiest Restaurant
The reputation for this spot is peaking in the big apple. Peak of trend. Peak of buzz. Peak of New York right now.
That’s hard to do in a city that never shuts up, where every block has six things cooler than the last. A punk bar. A pop-up pasta joint. A Ukrainian dive with killer borscht. You get the idea.
So how did The Corner Store end up as the place?
It might be the menu…comfort food that doesn’t take itself too seriously. Maybe it’s the space being vintage NYC, glam but not try-hard. Or maybe it’s Taylor. Taylor Swift went here twice. Yeah, that’s probably it. One of those times, she was on a double date with Blake Lively, Ryan Reynolds, and Travis Kelce. That kind of tabloid gravity pulls crowds. And lines.
So we lined up.
One hour and thirty minutes before the doors even opened. The sun was setting. The sidewalk felt like a velvet rope. People showed up in heels. Leather jackets. Laughing at how early we all were.
Did we get in? Yes…Barely. We snagged one of the last spots at the bar. Right by the mirrored wall. Right in the middle of the hum.
Here’s the hack:
1. Go solo.
2. Show up a little over an hour early.
That’s the move in New York. Doesn’t matter how hot the place is — if you’re alone and polite, you’ve got a shot. You’ll be told, “Nothing is guaranteed.” Say thank you. Then, walk off, kill time, grab a drink, people-watch, or wander around the neighbourhood. That’s exactly what we did. And somehow, we scored a solo seat at the bar — the last one. If we’d shown up with a plus one and just 50 minutes to spare? We’d be eating pizza on the curb.
The bar hits you immediately. It’s right there when you open the door. No host stand wall. No long hallway. You walk in, and it’s martinis and mirrors and excited people shuffling in and sitting down. It’s a small bar, maybe 10 seats max. Everyone sees you walk in. And you see them. It’s a two-way runway of NY diners.
Past the bar, the place opens up in that old New York kind of way — twisty back rooms, a split-level layout, and a narrow staircase that screams “bathrooms down there, good luck.” The vibe? Chaotic glam. Everyone’s dressed for their own version of hot. Leather pants. Linen shirts. A guy in designer slides. A girl in vintage Levi’s and pearls.
Service starts fast here. Like, tight timeline fast. Everyone is seated at once, and there’s another wave coming right behind. You get menus. You get water. You get a quick, confident run-down from the staff. Then you're left alone. It’s efficient, smooth, but never cold. Our bartender? From Jersey, and by halfway through the meal, he had our side of the bar talking to each other. Strangers traded tips about martinis. One girl was in town from LA. A guy two seats down recommended a dumpling spot in Queens. The whole bar became one big table. That’s rare, and it was the kind of magic that made the decent food at staggeringly high prices worth it all.
We started with the martinis. That’s the show here. Not optional. Mandatory.
Here’s what we got:
* Oli’s Dirty – Vodka, vermouth, house brine, olive oil wash
* The Filth – Vodka, filthy brine, nothing else
* Espresso Martini – Vodka, Mr. Black, espresso, salted vanilla
* Sour Cream & Onion – Cream-washed gin, vermouth, dill, spring onion
The first three? Exactly what they should be. Cold. Salty. Smooth. Served with style and a sidecar of extra chilled liquid. They don’t reinvent the wheel. They just make it spin cleaner. The Sour Cream & Onion one? It sounds dumb. It’s not. It actually works. It’s savoury. It’s bright. It’s creamy without being gross. It tastes like the best version of the chip flavour you grew up with but in a glass.
For food, we went with the hits. We watched the Wagyu French Dip go to the guy next to us. Thin-cut prime rib, steaming jus poured tableside. Looked unreal. He said it was. That’s the kind of regret you hold onto for a bit. But we had no time, no stomach space, and too many good choices.
We started with the Spinach Artichoke Dip. It came with house-cut chips, carrots, celery. Huge portion. Super creamy. Honestly, it’s the best version of the dish we’ve had. We skipped the Lobster & Caviar Roll and Five Cheese Pizza Rolls — a big mistake, maybe. But that’s the thing here. Everything on the menu makes you think, “Damn, I want that.” It’s comfort food dressed up with just enough flair. Think high-end bar food with Chuck E. Cheese inspiration.
For our main, we went Steak Frites, disco style. That means au poivre all over the fries. Obviously, we said yes.
We got The Works, too — a side of three sauces:
* Horseradish Aioli
* Avocado Ranch
* McOli Sauce (our favorite — ketchup, mayo, relish. It’s just a McSauce. And it slaps.)
Here’s a rule we stick by: If the restaurant puts its name on a dish, order it. So we did.
The Corner Store Caesar hit hard.
It’s a heavy, rich, absolutely chaotic take on a Caesar. Cream cheese balls instead of shaved parm. Everything bagel croutons instead of boring cubes. Totally ridiculous. Totally good. We didn’t have one bad bite. Everything we ate, we loved. Even what we didn’t order? We still miss it.
Is this place way too expensive for what you get? Honestly… sort of. The food, in a vacuum, won’t blow your mind. You’re not discovering some secret new technique. You’re eating a disco fry and a martini. But here’s the thing — it’s fun. It’s the best version of something you already love.
This isn’t a vacuum. This is Manhattan. Taylor Swift or not — the buzz is real. Don’t be cynical. Enjoy the trend. Enjoy the energy. Who cares if you saw this place on TikTok ten times before you went? Who cares if the steak frites cost more than 15 slices of Joe’s Pizza? It’s worth it. It’s New York. Is $30 a lot for a pastrami sandwich? Yes. But it’s Katz’s — so you go anyway. Same rule here.
The Corner Store isn’t good because it’s expensive. It’s not famous because it’s exclusive. It’s good because it’s just… doing everything right. The food, the drinks, the vibe, the people. The only real obstacle? The reservation.
Is it worth lining up 90 minutes early and crossing your fingers? Absolutely.
Order big. Watch the room. You might spot a celeb. (They’re probably sneaking in through the back.) But who cares? You're here. You got in. Enjoy it, and don’t think about it too hard.
For more food stories like this, check out our weekly newsletter.
