There are days that feel like they’re made of small rituals—white tablecloths, quiet silverware, the slow pause before the first bite. Lunch at BG was that kind of beginning.
The table filled up quickly in the gentle way it always does: water glasses catching the light, a basket of bread that makes you reach without thinking, and plates that arrive looking like they belong to a calmer version of the city. The gnocchi came in a pale, creamy sauce with truffle scattered over the top, earthy and soft, the kind of flavor that lingers while the room keeps moving around you. Across the table, a salad brought in something darker and crisp, a counterpoint that made everything feel balanced.
After lunch, the day shifted—still the same streets, still the same noise outside, but the plan was different. A spa day always feels like stepping into another world that sits right beside the one you’re used to. You trade hurry for warmth, tension for quiet, and you start paying attention to the simple things again: breathing, stillness, the feeling of time stretching out instead of snapping forward.
It wasn’t a dramatic day. It didn’t need to be. It was just Lunch at BG & Start of a Spa Day—one gentle moment leaning into the next.
