Like all people of good taste, I am obsessed with New York City.
The sense of community, the hospitality, the dynamism, the energy and the breathlessness of it all. All of it.
It may smell of humanity’s worst indulgences – I’m not blind to the decay of a hyper-capitalist, hyper-pressurised rat race – but once you’re locked into the grid, it’s hard to imagine being anywhere else.
“This city has chewed me up, spit me out, and built me up so many times. So. Many. Times,” I remember a Bronx-born, Bronx-tough millennial woman telling me earlier this year, through tears. I asked her if she’s ever thought about living anywhere else. “Never”.
New York City is the way it is because of what it’s taken people to get there
Sacrifice is sacrosanct. Compromise is compulsory. Yet the world is at your fingertips. That’s the hard bargain New York City offers. It attracts some of the most talented, pathologically ambitious people in the world, then forces them to compete for a finite number of opportunities. Success is measured by whether you can survive long enough to build something that lasts. Not many do.
But for all its casual cruelty, New York can give you something extraordinary in return. Those who are lucky enough to live there, or even visit regularly, would know the profound rush of warmth that sits behind nostalgia. Nostalgia isn’t exclusive to New York by any means, but it often takes on a different form here.
I personally think it has something to do with a little-researched area psychologists call “anticipatory nostalgia”. Or, as multi-hyphenate writer John Koenig coins in The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, anemoia. It’s the joy of looking back, of knowing that this is something you’ll cherish for a long time.
And sometimes it’s for something as simple as sitting at a nice bar, sipping a nice martini, and picking at an exceptionally nice cheese board. It’s often hard to describe emotions like that. Lazy people call it “vibes”. There’s something deeper going on.
The texture of true hospitality
Big cities can be very dehumanising places. For travellers who may not know many locals, finding those little pockets that resonate with you is energising. You’re building your version of a city like San Francisco, Chicago or New York. There’s a lot of power in that, and it connects you much more tightly to a sense of place; it makes memories that much sharper, more vivid, and longer-lasting.
I think that’s why exceptional hospitality will always reign supreme. It’s humanising and comforting. In a city like New York, where many people feel invisible, that’s invaluable.
Australian-raised, New York-based hospo icon Nathalie Hudson understands this perfectly.
I’m admiring the angelic glow of her new venue, Dante Aperitivo, and sipping on Dante’s signature Martini – a creamy, pitch-perfect pour over three enormous, buttery olives – while waiting for her to arrive from another meeting.
She’s a busy woman.
Nathalie’s meetings have run over, and so I manage to make it halfway through my Martini before she pops in. That’s no problem at all. In New York City, not feeling rushed is a privilege. Slowing down is not so much a virtue as it is a spiritual imperative.
It’s hard to believe Nathalie has a chance to slow down. As Creative Director, she oversees a global team of 300 and is in charge of designing the entire Dante ecosystem, which in 2026 is having its biggest growth spurt since she started this journey alongside her husband and business partner, Linden Pride.
Pride, who trained under Neil Perry, and Nathalie moved to New York City to buy the centuries-old Caffe Dante in 2015. They famously lifted the profile of the legendary Italian coffee spot, transforming it into an all-day bar focused on Negronis, good conversation, and reliably perfect service. Shortly after, it was named the best bar in the world.
That success was mirrored by the pretty-as-a-picture Dante West Village nearby before flying across to the West Coast with Dante Beverly Hills, a rooftop pool and bar atop the stunning Maybourne property. In London, the pair opened Dante Mayfair as a pop-up at Claridge’s before just recently making the occasion permanent. Now with an Italian coffee shop, Caffe Paradiso in NoLita, and this gorgeous space on the neighbourly corner of Banks and W 4th, the couple have six high-profile venues to juggle.
Yet when Nathalie takes a seat next to me, I could swear she is the most relaxed person in New York City. Steady, focused, witty. Dante Aperitivo is still fresh, lavish with Italianate marble floors and gold strips. The charcoal and ivory velvet seating adds depth and dimension to the relatively small area, while a few small tables are basking in the sun outside. I guess it’s pretty hard not to be relaxed in such a beautiful space.
Nathalie looks around the venue with love in her eyes. Even before she tells me the story of how this was an impulse buy that came down to a last-minute bid, I can tell she’s pinching herself at such an enviable purchase.
As the story goes, this corner spot was once The Riddler, a Champagne and oyster bar that Hudson and Pride frequented following the birth of their second daughter.
“It was a really special moment in my life,” she smiles. “Our world had just expanded, and I remember always walking past this place with my daughter close to my chest.”
You can never really understand the meaning someone else attaches to something. You don’t get to choose what’s nostalgic for another person and what isn’t. But there’s a certain type of magic that happens when someone can express their nostalgia – their warmth – in such a way that imbues a space with an intangible, unnamable feeling.
Nathalie is an incredibly expressive person. She speaks at length about The Riddler and how much she enjoyed visiting before the space was pulled every which way. At one point, it was almost a burger shop. And what a colossal waste of prime real estate that would have been.
Her eyes light up when she tells me that the owners of The Riddler are gifting her some of the space’s old artwork in a few weeks. Bringing some of the space’s former DNA and splicing it with Dante’s lively, inviting and irresistibly Italian ambience is clearly an essential piece of this picture.
I’m down to my last sip at this point, and the bartender immediately slides me another one with a wink. Before Nathalie arrived, I was telling her staff about the last time I was in the US, for eight weeks in 2025. I always like having these long stints in America, but this was an especially exhausting and chaotic time.
I managed to organise two nights at the Maybourne Beverly Hills just before I was to fly back to Sydney, and I was particularly excited because I found out there was a Dante on the rooftop. I don’t remember even dropping my bags in my room; I went straight up to Dante Beverly Hills and, after being caught off guard by how gorgeous the view is, jumped straight into the rooftop pool and ordered one of those exceptional martinis. I ended up having six, passing out by the pool, and flying home the next day. It was perfect.
And I used to hate martinis.
Always a seat at the table
“I’m always going to make sure locals have a seat at the table. There will always be a spot for them,” Nathalie’s eyes tighten in focus. I can tell that’s a core value of hers, and a reason why Dante’s venues are inseparable from life in the village. That commitment surely distinguishes Nathalie in the hospitality scene. She’s already talking about guests as guests rather than faceless covers.
And a seat at Dante Aperitivo comes highly recommended. Coastal Italian takes the reins for this experience, noting decadent items like caviar tarts with oyster cream and Champagne pearls, a nod to The Riddler, and a requisite shrimp cocktail with Dante’s signature horseradish cocktail sauce lightly peppered over Latin shrimp that have been seasoned with lemon and finished with lemon oil.
Anyone wanting to splurge can order up a basket of triple-coated fried chicken with vinegar and pay extra to top it all with caviar. Or they can keep it simple with the stunning spaghetti vongole, which Nathalie already lists as the venue’s signature. Other dishes, like Maine lobster bucatini and wild Alaskan salmon, double down on the light, bright aperitivo style that defines the entire project.
Show up early, and you might get brunch staples like a 100% Angus grass-fed beef New York Strip with eggs on toast, or cacio e pepe alla chitarra.
Drinks flirt with light-and-bright profiles like a $10 Americano on tap, served in a can with a bright orange slice of blood orange, or two different signature spritzes – one with Cappelletti, dry vermouth, gin, clarified grape, verjus, Champagne and frozen grapes. There are two incredibly delicious negronis to keep the Dante spirit alive, including a toasted coconut and mango number that sits among the best sips I’ve ever had in this city.
Aperitivo as an anchor
We need anchors. We need constants. As life continues to spin out of control, especially on a macro level, it’s essential that we as human beings learn how to slow the fuck down.
That’s essentially what Aperitivo culture was built on. It’s that transitional time in the late afternoon that builds a bridge between the chaos of a working week and the leisure of a night on the town; a ritualised decompression chamber that requires the right atmosphere.
I get the feeling that Dante Aperitivo symbolises that bridge for Nathalie. The brand is in its biggest growth spurt to date, which is often the most dangerous time for consistency.
Opening a permanent location at Claridge’s is nothing to take lightly. The palatial property is one of the most storied ultra-luxury hotels in London – the kind of contract even the most sure-footed of restaurateurs would give a limb for.
It’d be mighty easy to get ahead of yourself with such rip-roaring success. But Nathalie comes across as a bastion of humility. And it seems like Dante Aperitivo will be the anchor for her as the brand’s star continues to rise outside of New York City.
But it’s here where aperitivo really does make the most sense. New York demands acceleration. Aperitivo deliberately interrupts it. Having that kind of break is the trick to surviving this breathless jungle. And that’s the kind of thinking that can save people’s sanity. At a time when technology is eating us from the inside, loneliness is an ever-present topic, and profound discussions are being had around identity, it’s unsurprising that there’s now so much resentment and anger in the world. We need intentional breaks from that.
Having these kinds of ritualised moments, where all that matters is good food, good drink and great conversation, reminds me why the idea of happy hour came from this Italian invention in the first place. It signals that productivity has ended and presence has begun. When you have anchors like that, New York City can never truly break you.
Dante Aperitivo is located at 51 Banks St, New York, and is open from 10am to midnight, seven days a week.
