Forget Carbone. The status table of the moment is at the Cheesecake Factory.
In the last month, bold-face types as varied as Bel Air socialite Kathy Hilton and Midtown media titan Hoda Kotb have told Page Six that the chain is a top spot for romantic nights on the town.
And now Kanye West — far at the other end of the celebrity spectrum — has been snapped there on a date with wife Bianca Censori.
Why? We don’t know. We’re certainly not going to go there to find out. (There’s the unflinching journalistic pursuit of the truth and then there’s going to the Cheesecake Factory, y’know?).
Could it be that — in an age when the Manhattan elite jealously compare private club memberships — the strip mall’s second-finest holds a refreshing popular appeal?
Could it be that — with every Bushwick storefront claiming to be home to artisans — a place that proudly identifies as a factory is a relief?
Could it be that — in the era of the free-range, heritage, grass-fed waitress — the $23.95 Famous Factory Meatloaf looks like it was loving prepared with a 3D printer but tastes like freedom?
Could it be that — of the four people we just mentioned — fifty percent are either a clinically insane bigot and or married him, so maybe they just don’t make great choices?
Either way, gird yourselves: Cheesecake-core is coming.
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