There comes a time when those craving wider success must take things up a notch, like Pete Doherty did with his belt after kicking heroin. Ready with their most ambitious project yet: the pair behind St. John Hotel, now open. St. John Hotel houses a diner, bar, and boutique sleeper in a townhouse marked by an unassuming white facade and a few large glass panels on the first floor, all overseen by the proud owners of the newly Michelin'd resto in Smithfield, also an area of study in which one examines Robert in search of the key to surviving lifelong depression into one's 50s. The minimalist, white-walled & wood-floored eatery sees a daily changing menu that echoes the "whole beast" ethos of their other spots with offerings like veal tongue w/ potato & mustard, a huge double-sharing bacon & beans pie, and radishes & rabbit w/ pig's head, a dish hopefully not involving two kinds of hare. The similarly elegantly simple upstairs bar will serve wines from the group's own vineyards (red, white, and Champagne); other than that, there's no formal menu, with the barkeep pulling from a huge selection of spirits to drum up everything from classic 'tails, to "whatever you can think of" -- which, after a few hours spent taking full advantage of that freedom, won't be much. Rooms also follow the same aesthetic, with white wood paneling and green floors outfitted with "everything the traveler needs, and nothing they do not"; options range from The Long Room -- the top-floor, three-bedroom suite -- to smaller spontaneously rented "Post-Supper Rooms", ideal if too much time with the bartender has left baby in a shambles.