Inside Jack & Charlie’s 118: A Modern Take on Old New York’s Supper Club Era
The space is intimate and understated, with deep green walls, low lighting, and a cozy glow that recalls an old-school supper club more than a downtown hotspot. A fireplace sits as the focal point, dimly lit with candles, while vintage photos and carefully placed trinkets line the walls—details that make the room feel collected over time, not designed overnight. It’s the kind of place that naturally pulls the volume down and makes you want to linger.
The menu spans everything from a raw bar to pastas and steaks, paired with a leather-bound spirit list and a classic, minimal table setting – white linens, simple silverware, and delicate glassware that make the whole experience feel elevated without trying too hard. On a freezing Friday night, it was exactly the kind of refuge Greenwich Village does best.
We started with a classic Caesar Salad before taking our server’s suggestion: the Salmon Crudo special. Tossed with cucumber and avocado, it ate more like a dressed, lettuce-less salad – light, refreshing, and the perfect lead-in to the richer mains ahead. A crisp glass of Sauvignon Blanc (I recommend the Roger Champault Les Pierre, Sancerre) kept the pacing easy and bright.
The standout, though, was the 14-oz NY Strip Steak, marinated with garlic and cooked exactly to specification. It cut like butter and was perfectly seasoned, especially with the choice of sauces on the side – we tried both the béarnaise and peppercorn, and neither missed. The Brick Chicken was equally memorable, served with bok choy and a carrot-coconut purée, finished with fresh lemon that added a punch of brightness. The skin was crisp, the meat incredibly tender, and it’s easily one of the best versions of the dish I’ve had in the city.
For sides, we went with the Whipped Mashed Potatoes and Creamed Spinach which had a subtle hint of nutmeg – classic choices that fit the restaurant’s whole identity: familiar, comforting, and done with intention.
And just when we thought we were done, our server insisted we try the Sticky Toffee Carrot Cake. Warm and gooey, topped with cream cheese frosting, walnuts, and butterscotch sauce, it was the kind of dessert that tastes like nostalgia – like something your grandma would bake from scratch.
Jack & Charlie’s 118 doesn’t feel like it’s chasing the moment – it feels like it’s preserving one. If you want a romantic dinner, a cozy place to catch up, or simply a night that feels like old New York in the best way, this is the reservation to make.
