For 72 glorious hours, we lived in luxury at The Pierre, an iconic hotel on Fifth Avenue overlooking Central Park. In a metropolis stuffed with swish lodging, nothing beats this historic hideaway of the upper crust, built in 1930 and now managed by Taj Hotels.
At 41 stories, the celebrated, buff-colored landmark with a limestone base and a copper roof is a thing of beauty, a French castle piercing the clouds. Currently, the top floors are co-op apartments occupied by the 1 percent.
We were awed by the elegance and glamour of the fairytale setting: marble floors; vaulted ceilings; crystal chandeliers; stunning lobbies; sumptuous rooms; well-mannered employees; genteel guests; hushed conversations; and afternoon tea in the muraled Rotunda Room.
Still, we weren't planning to take out a second mortgage for one sublime weekend, so we balanced the budget by pairing the luxe hotel with wallet-friendly things to do and eat. More about those later.
For us, the pleasures of The Pierre began with splendid doormen in epauleted uniforms, proceeded with the rarefied ambience of the front desk, and featured a white-gloved elevator operator who whisked us to our guestroom. Elevator operator! No doubt the last in the city...maybe any city.
Our richly appointed quarters were highlighted by an entry foyer and high ceilings. The bathroom was decked out with Turkish marble; a walk-in shower with a silver, rain-shower head; a deep soaking tub; and fancy toiletries. Electronics included a 50-inch Smart TV and a Bose Wave radio with Bluetooth capability.
From this lovely perch, there was a panorama of Central Park through generously sized windows that was so arresting we could barely look away. We resolved that part of our weekend would be spent in the park.
The Pierre's signature eatery, Perrine, lured us with its sterling reputation. Is it true the ice cubes here never melt? Judging by the discretely attentive staff, we can answer in the affirmative.
Longtime employees included Samir from Azerbaijan, who served us at breakfast and had been working at the restaurant for 20 years, and Tiziano, a waiter from Tuscany who had moved to New York in the 1980s and guided our dinner selections.
Our morning faves were eggs Benedict made with smoked salmon as well as a vanilla waffle with strawberry compote and whipped cream.
Dinner was off-the-charts delish. One starter and main was lobster bisque followed by seared king salmon with meuniere sauce. Another was a selection of cold shellfish (crab claws, oysters, lobster, clams and shrimp) followed by the Pierre burger with gruyère cheese and – yes – French fries.
On an impressive list of desserts, our best-loved were warm chocolate cake with crème brûlée ice cream and citrus madeleine; peach melba with vanilla ice cream and raspberry compote; and rum baba with citrus crème fraîche and dark rum.
Bellies full, spirits pampered, we were happy to cocoon in comfort at The Pierre. But eventually, we headed out the gilded doors. And that's when we considered our wallets. Good to know: Gotham has options for every price point.
Having been amazed by our room's magnificent view of Central Park, we set off to meander the free-entry 843 acres designed by famed architect Frederick Law Olmsted, which opened in 1858.
We had barely scratched the surface after wandering Bethesda Terrace & Fountain with its twin grand staircases, Bow Bridge, Strawberry Fields and The Lake. Along the walking trails, we often settled on benches to watch the parade of urban characters pass by.
For street sustenance, we chomped not just hot dogs slathered with mustard and sauerkraut at the ubiquitous carts but a range of chow from chicken shawarma, lamb gyros and falafel to Chinese skewers and Indian plates. Plus, aromatic slices from neighborhood pizza shops rarely missed the mark.
At TKTS, the nonprofit ticket purveyor with a mega booth in Times Square, we nabbed discounted admission to a musical. The seats were primo, and "The Great Gatsby," based on F. Scott Fitzgerald's classic American novel of the Jazz Age, was the quintessential Broadway show.
We scored free entry to the sprawling Metropolitan Museum of Art for the first Sunday of the month; all we needed to do was show a Bank of America card.
Another day, we strolled tony Madison Avenue, conveniently just steps from The Pierre. The ultra-expensive jewelry and clothing stores often employed security guards to stand sentry in front of locked doors.
That high-society Pierre glow must have rubbed off on us: Despite mustard stains on our sweatshirts, we were granted entry every time.
Here's the deal: We experienced the best in the world for 72 hours. Do we dream of returning to the City That Never Sleeps? Yup. We'd be there in a New York minute.