What It's Like Inside Medusa, the Celebrity-Favorite Supper Club in BGC

At seven in the evening, the room is composed. Tables are filling, and the central oval bar is already doing what a good bar should, by giving people somewhere to orbit.

The design skews Art Deco with tropical inflection—velvet banquettes, lacquered surfaces, mirrored panels, brass accents. It stops just short of theatrical overload, with moody lighting in a conspiratorial way, as if straight out of a Gossip Girl scene.

There’s a welcome bar by the entrance, a smaller lounge tucked to the side, and semi-private corners engineered for birthdays and business deals. The space holds around 200-plus people, but it doesn’t feel cavernous. By 9:30 p.m., the shift begins, with music up a notch, with lights a shade lower, when dinner starts loosening its tie.

The menu leans European comfort, but with enough gloss to justify the setting. We started with small plates that read like greatest hits, albeit dressed for a night out.

The Crispy Salmon Sushi is built on deep-fried rice, which gives it a rough, almost crackly base under clean slices of salmon sashimi. The sriracha mayo adds a tangy heat that lingers—textural, as the crunch is the point. The Crab Cake with Tartare Sauce arrives bronzed and confident, packed with jumbo lump crab. Break into it, and there’s actual crab to contend with, not filler. It’s crisp outside, tender within, and disappears faster than you expect.

Then there’s the Wagyu Beef Sando, made with Kagoshima A4 wagyu. It’s thick, unapologetically rich, and sandwiched between buttery toasted brioche. The cutlet is firmer than the melt-in-your-mouth fantasy some might expect, but that structure works with the crunch of the bread and the punch of grain mustard and katsu sauce. Each bite shifts slightly depending on where the sauce hits.

Even the Caesar Salad refuses to be an afterthought. Anchovies, bacon steak lardons, parmesan, and croutons collide in a dressing that ends salty and sharp.

For those not drinking, the Bloom mocktail—orange juice, house-made grenadine, lemon, and cream—tastes like an elevated orange candy from childhood. Sweet at first, then citrusy and tart, with a creamy finish that keeps it from veering into juice-bar territory.

If you are drinking, you’ll want wine with your steak. We paired a red with the Angus Rib Eye, topped with Medusa compound butter and served with a romaine wedge and fried shallots. The rib eye was notably tender—more so than the wagyu sando—with a richness that made the case for a proper pour.

The Kurobuta Pork Loin, served with bacon, Brussels sprouts, caramelized apple, and grain mustard jus, was solid and flavorful, though it felt more polite than provocative.