By  on February 3, 2011

Owning a bunch of destination nightclubs and having magazines ask for your top picks of cool things to do is one of the holy grails of Manhattan manhood. It’s the stuff egos and power trips are made of. One of Carlos Quirarte’s favorite parties in the late Nineties was at Spa, where the door was guarded by Steve Lewis. “He would point to people and say, ‘If you had his head and his body, maybe you could come in,’” says Quirarte, who possessed neither ideal but was let in anyway.

That’s not Quirarte and his partner Matt Kliegman’s style. They didn’t get from marketing a denim brand and investing in real estate at J.P. Morgan, respectively, to the top of New York’s nightlife food chain by being jerks. Their Bond Street restaurant is named The Smile, after all.

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