The Rex: Where the Well-Heeled Kick Up Their Heels
Who says apples and oranges don’t mix?
Rex Chandler has combined the best of the Big Apple and the Big Orange in his new restaurant at Fashion Island in Newport Beach. The style is Fifth-Avenue chic and the mood is kick-back elegant. Call it a Rainbow Room at the beach. Or call it Le Bernardin by the bay.
But don’t forget to call it Orange County’s hottest place to be seen.
Since the Rex opened two weeks ago, hordes of night-life-lovers have descended upon the second-floor bistro, with its plush, Chanel-inspired black booths and its “music room” (as Chandler calls it)--a black-granite dance area with its own bar.
“We can’t keep caviar in stock,” says Chandler, who brought his popular beachside restaurant to Fashion Island at the behest of billionaire Donald Bren. “We have to order it daily. And we’re ordering more and more.” And that’s Beluga at $70 an ounce. Not to mention the vintage champagne. Or the live Maine lobster at $45 a crack. What’s the secret? The Art Deco restaurant, with its important-looking brass-and-glass entrance on the first floor, its uptown dress code (a plaque reads: “Coats for gentlemen, no jeans, tank tops, tennis shoes or shorts”) and its original art collection, feels like a private club.
“People are coming in here and thanking me,” Chandler says. “They say they finally have a place to go where they can dress up, dine and dance.”
And be ogled. Chandler and his partners--among them developer Tony Moiso and Jaguar-pusher Lee West--made sure the Rex would be a place for people-watching.
Guests may sit near the bar. Or they may choose to dine as far away from the bar as possible.
“People who like to sit in the bar area are usually people looking for action--an area where they can spot their buddies and get business tips,” Chandler says. He calls the area “stockbrokers’ row.”
Then there’s high-rollers’ row. “Those are the booths in the back of the restaurant,” Chandler says, eyeing an elevated area with a special, sound-proofed ceiling. “People who like to dine there are often heavyweights like Don Bren and Don Koll. They don’t need the recognition that comes from sitting by the bar. But they like the knowledge. They like to know who’s there.”
If Chandler had to designate an “A” booth, he says, it would be the one tucked in the back near the brass-fronted fireplace. “There,” he says, “you can see everything and not be seen.”
While Newport Beach is fairly blase about limousines, locals were caught by surprise when the land yachts began pulling up to the Rex before the restaurant was completed. Partners in the restaurant--members of Chandler’s exclusive 21 Club--were having their drivers drop off cases of wine for storage in the restaurant’s 40 private wine lockers.
“That was something to see,” says an insider. “Servants driving up in limousines and unloading wine, not people.”
Chandler explains that the members of his 21 Club--investors in his original restaurant (now called 21 Oceanfront) and the new Rex--deserve star treatment. They don’t have to order from the wine list. They can go to their lockers and select wines from their own collections. They get VIP (upfront) parking, gratis. And they get the one thing that other guests--with rare exceptions--don’t: the chance to dance without having formally dined.
Chandler has been besieged with requests to visit the Rex just to dance. Recently, a crowd 30 deep and dressed to kill hung around the entrance, aching for the chance. They waited a long time. “We reserve the music room for people who are dining with us,” Chandler explains. “We can’t allow it to fill up and have diners without dance space. We want to be a four-star-quality restaurant first. The dance floor is the frosting on the cake.”
(There are two other ways to gain access to the dance floor without having had dinner: Guests can enjoy appetizers or desserts in the waiting area and then dance. Or they can become members of Chandler’s new VIP club--available to 600 of his most regular customers.)
Rex installed the dance area, he says, because he felt that people in Orange County weren’t getting the most for their dining-out dollar.
“At the beach, I was finding prices were a little high because my rent was high,” he says. “And I saw people having expectations relative to that dollar level. I didn’t see anybody filling that expectation.”
So Chandler installed the glossy, black-granite dance floor in his 160-seat restaurant. “In my view of the dining scene, Orange County doesn’t have quite the nighttime attractions that Los Angeles, New York and San Francisco do,” he says.
“People here are looking for more. They don’t just want to go out and eat. They want to be entertained.”
