Bon

Philippe Starck’s homage to the seedy excesses of 21st century Russia. Spend an evening in Dracula’s Moscow lair admiring the Kalashnikov lamps, dripping candles, and trashy mismatched furniture. The requisite Italian/Japanese/Russian menu is overpriced and forgettable; feast your eyes instead on the stuffed owl wearing a diamond necklace and bask in Starck’s oversexed classical baroque-meets-minimalist parody of the moneyed clientele sitting at the table next to you.