All you need to know about Rose’ is summed up in one communal table running the length of the restaurant. Gaudily pink, it’s a tiled and mirrored affair that has three steps leading up to it on each side. If, like The Monster you naively assume that is because this is a French restaurant and there will be fashion shows au contraire. It is so the assembled masses may easily scale the table to dance. Yes, dance. Because there is above the bar an alcove for the DJ. Yes.
When one enters Rose’ they are assaulted by the sheer pinkness of it all. It is both a stunning tableau and a dizzying one. Its effect is akin to swimming in a giant vat of cotton candy. Or perhaps Pepto Bismal. This is a restaurant that takes its cues from St. Tropez and doesn’t get going until late into the evening, and while the food on the occasion The Monster visited is better than expected one wonders how long that will continue given what seems to be the play here.