I Ate The Same Hamburger As Taylor Swift At The Polo Bar. Here’s How You Can Too

I didn’t exactly die over the food at The Polo Bar, but I did walk through a riot to make my reservation in time, and it was worth it.

Yes, blazing straight through a thousands-large mob of pro-Palestine rioters on Fifth Avenue was a small price to pay for an evening at the hyper-exclusive Midtown restaurant famously frequented by the upper crust of the world. (It also made my NY travels sound incredibly, admirably adventurous, like something from the pages of an Anthony Bourdain book – so all the better, right?)

Making It into NY’s Most Exclusive Not-Quite-Club

In all actuality, though the riot sounded exotic, traversing the crowd of not-so-peaceful protesters was the easy part of my journey to this bougie bar. 

Ralph Lauren's restaurant, The Polo Bar, is rather infamously regarded as a cozy meeting place for the upper echelon of East Coast society – a 21st century iteration of the Knickerbocker Club, replacing exorbitant membership fees with a bafflingly affordable menu. And for that reason, reservations are nearly impossible to procure.

Their page online (part of the greater Ralph Lauren website, because I guess the next logical step was for the Polo to add a restaurant to his fashion empire) makes it seem effortless: Our Reservations office is open from 10 a.m. Please call us at 212.207.8562 

And yet, as one person commented on the restaurant’s Instagram post in honor of National Burger Day: “If only it didn't take an act of Congress to get a reservation I could actually try this thing one day.”

Comparable levels of despondency resonate throughout the majority of the comments on The Polo Bar’s social content, ranging from lighthearted whining, wishing, and, dreaming to genuinely ill-spirited digs at the restaurant’s level of exclusivity, accompanied by threats to take their “time, family, and money elsewhere where it’s appreciated.”

According to most “mere mortals” (as they frequently refer to themselves) in the comments, the reservations desk keeps would-be patrons on hold for hours before they can speak to the maître d’…by which time all reservations have been snatched up. 

Thankfully I, for a weekend, had what said mortals clearly lacked – a top-tier concierge at a celebrated New York hotel. They got me a table as easily as they could’ve nabbed a hot dog from a street vendor. Of course, the rooms at that hotel were priced so high I had to take out a second job to afford one for the weekend (not kidding, wish I was) so keep that in mind, too.

If you don’t have the cash to spend on a luxury hotel room and don’t feel like starting a new career to afford one, I applaud you. However, since I have recently quit said second job and resigned myself to life amid mortals once more, I can offer us all a word of encouragement – in the same depressing comment sections on The Polo Bar’s posts, there are also small whispers of hope in the form of glowing reviews from non-elites who somehow, magically, reserved a table.

So whip out your phone, set an alarm for 10 a.m. EST exactly 30 days before the day you want to dine and have The Polo Bar on speed dial. (Ask your mom or grandma, who likely used to dial in for radio contests and TV giveaways, to give you some tips.) You never know – one day, you might find yourself dining amid royalty.

And, while I can’t guarantee if or when this day will come, I can assure you that, when it does, you’ll feel like royalty too.

Into the World of the Elite

By the time I made it to The Polo Bar, unscathed but freezing cold (did I mention I was wearing a cocktail dress and open-toed pumps for my five-and-a-half block walk between the hotel and bar in thirty-some degree weather?), my expectations were as high as the Trump Tower we’d passed on our way there. After all, if Hugh Jackman had seen fit to celebrate his birthday there the month before, then surely the place was worth this hassle. At least, I hoped.

Thankfully, the moment the bouncer (yes, a bouncer) welcomed us inside, we were met with warmth not only in temperature but also aesthetic. The restaurant’s main level featured a long, shining bartop of polished wood, flanked by leather-topped stools and hung with purse hooks to keep patrons’ Chanel and Hermes purses from kissing the ground. There was also a leather banquet, where I was seated and given complimentary bowls of toasted nuts and fried olives (delicious), as well as a cocktail menu.