Tu Can Tango

A rare experience: Parking yourself in a monolithic yet curiously empty parking garage and descending a pee-scented staircase to cross the street and enter a similarly monolithic, similarly desolate hotel lobby, where after some struggle you find a lone concierge, who directs you upstairs to a club where you bump and grind the night away to the greatest dance hits out of Moscow while snacking on tapas made with manchego and... a Red Bull reduction. Think about that for a moment: Tapas with Red Bull reduction. What will it be like? Who the hell knows? As I write this, Tu Can Tango's grand opening is a full 24 hours away. We sidled in there on a relatively subdued Tuesday evening — which, after the grand opening, will be Ladies Night but which, on this occasion, was Pay Full Price for All Drinks Night — to ooh and aah at the new club's impressive dimensions and meet Neptune, Tu Can's hyperkinetic executive chef. He's got a glam band and a special fondness for the word saucier, a word that describes both the man's official function and the cornerstone of his culinary philosophy: If it's not sauted, it's probably not very good. He talks about lights and vibes and atmosphere, gesticulating wildly about the club's subtly tiered interior: Here is the dance floor, which can hold a hundred; here is the dining area, bigger than the dance floor, stretching out beyond the club's exposed show kitchen; here is the long bar, terminating at an exposed brick façade and ringed with tall, classy tables. Neptune believes this is space with possibilities, and anybody who sees the thing will have to agree. Fridays will feature belly dancers, hookahs, and shisha; Power 96 will broadcast live every Saturday; Wednesdays will be Salsa Night, with free salsa lessons and half-off margaritas and sangria; Thursdays will be Russian Night. How all of these disparate elements will combine with the big open space, the vast and oft-quirky tapas menu, and the club's spooky-ass location remains to be seen, but it should be fascinating.