December 29, 2011 |
This New York haven is a place like rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens. And cream-coloured ponies and crisp apple strudels. It’s snowflakes from Central Park that stay on our noses and eyelashes until we shake them off by the fireplace, so they don’t fall into our hot chocolate and make it cold. It’s like Eloise at the Plaza, but better. That’s because it’s Ten at The Pierre. Our favourite thing, above all others.
by Natalie Dembinska
