Mixing & Matching: Mark Baker & Juice Press, Todd English & Plaza, New DJ’s & Lit

The long delayed Camille Becerra restaurant on Orchard and Rivington is nearing completion. It’s amazing how fast the pieces come together once the bones of a place are in order. Upon completion of the wiring, the plumbing walls are closed up and the installation of finishes is a relatively short process. I felt very satisfied with the feel of the place as I left it yesterday afternoon. I headed to the Juice Press on 1st and 1st to reboot. A crowd of the beautiful people surrounded club god Mark Baker, who is hawking the place. It’s a win-win for the newly svelte Mr. Baker, who gets paid and fit with the new gig. Afternoon informal juice parties with familiar club gods, celebrities, models, and bottles filled with healthy nectars, have become common. I’m obsessed with the watermelon juice and kale chips. I’m going to live to be 100.

Mark and I chatted about the progress over at Double Seven and “doing this and doing that, “ and weekend plans. He told me how Juliet Supper Club’s own personal “Romeo” chef Todd English has moved on. According to master Baker, Todd is slammed with that food court thing at the Plaza Food Hall, where he will curate all sorts of exotic and trademark cuisines. Mark told me the separation was without anxiety for any of the players.

“It’s all good and friendly, an amicable separation. Todd’s busy schedule and new venues made it unrealistic to continue, so new chef Mario Tolentino takes over and opens this week. It’s world street cuisine and grill. A new direction for Juliet that compliments the super success of the club portion.”

I could never see Todd at Juliet. The environment just didn’t seem to suit him. I hear his name constantly associated with this project, or that, and half the time, when I turn on the flat screen, they’re hawking pots and pans with his name on it. No tears need to be shed for these creatures of the night: Juliet is packed with the crowd that they want and Todd has plenty of places to hang his hat. Best of luck to all.

I was stuck in late meetings as everyone was trying to get all the business done yesterday and get out of town early today. I missed the Carlo McCormick ”NYC-Shred” opening at the Perry Rubinstein Gallery in Chelsea. The exhibit, which will run until late August, is a group show of collage-based works. Carlo and I have been pals since the stone age . He is very much a part of that loveable Paper Magazine crew, and his vision is always worth checking out. I caught up with my crew at the nearby Moonstruck diner and was struck by how bad it really was. The food was OK, but the overall experience was similar to a prison mess hall. The after-party at Lit featured DJ’s Fancy and Dimitry. Erik Foss thinks they could be the next big thing. They had the hipster crowd in a frenzy. It’s more fun than a barrel of monkeys or a club filled with bottle whores and frat boys. I headed to Kenmare to wish my own personal dashboard Jesus, Paul Sevigny, a happy birthday, but alas he was still over at his party at Avenue. Happy birthday Paul Sevigny, who along with Nur, are the Obi-Wan Kenobi’s of nightlife: our only hope

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