Party planners are aces at helping Moishe celebrate his becoming a man with inflatable trombones and Mylar balloons in the shape of Shawn Green. Assuming you're not 13, hand over the reins for your next event to the guys behind one of the City's smoothest cocktail bars: Death & Co Catering.
A shadowy East Village mainstay, Death will apply their flossy Prohibition chops to every element of your bash, whether it's a 100-person corporate gathering or a wee-sized fiesta of one (because what better reason to party than discovering you have viral meningitis?). For ballast, Death's chef'll cook up their signature bite-sized gourmet barfood (fish & chips nuggets, bacon-wrapped filet mignon, etc) while their mixologists sling Oaxaca Old Fashioneds, Rye King Fizzes, and punch bowls -- chilled via giant ice itself transported in dry ice (a Russian doll of freezingness). Beyond food/drunk, Death'll cart in their own dark wood-paneled bar, extra furniture, a PA system w/ cocktail-friendly soundtrack, mini-bottle-stuffed goodie bags, and custom invites sealed in wax -- just in case the zany-but-punctilious Cardinal Richelieu is on your guest list.
Death does tread onto traditional party planning ground, i.e., flowers, but even these are sotted-up by planting them in Mint Julep cups -- which you'll trick young Moishe into drinking, before assailing him with taunts of "You call yourself a man?"
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