Some stories don't end. They find a new table.
You remember the evening.
Maybe it was a birthday. An anniversary. A Tuesday that became something more than a Tuesday. You sat down a guest and left feeling like you'd been let into something. A meal, a room, a moment that stayed with you long after the last glass was empty.
That feeling wasn't the restaurant.
It was you, at a table, in the middle of a story worth telling.
Marcona on Lyon closed its doors. But the story didn't end there.
It moved.
The same kitchen instinct. The same obsession with every layer of an evening: the table, the light, the wine chosen for this night and no other, the music that makes conversation feel easy, the dish that arrives and makes the room go quiet for a moment.
Now it comes to you.
Not a reservation. Not a booking. An invitation into an evening curated from the first detail to the last, for a table of people who understand that the best meals aren't really about the food.
This is how it works
You get on the list.
When the timing is right, when the menu is ready, when the table is set. You'll hear from us. The location is part of the experience. You'll know when you need to know.
Up to eight guests. Hosted in private.
The kind of evening that doesn't happen by accident.
Some people have been waiting for this since the last night on Lyon. Others are about to understand for the first time what they've been missing.
Both arrive at the same table.
Here is what you're walking into.
A menu built around memory and season. Dishes that carry a story, composed with the precision of someone who has spent a lifetime learning what makes people feel cared for.
A table set the way tables used to be set. With intention. With detail. With the understanding that the physical space of a shared meal shapes everything that happens inside it.
Wine chosen to move with the evening, not just accompany it.
Music that lives underneath the conversation rather than competing with it.
Service that anticipates without hovering. That makes you feel known without making you feel watched.
And the conversation. The laughter. The moment someone at the table says: I have to tell you about the time I was here before. And suddenly the whole table is inside the story together.
You will leave with something you didn't arrive with. A memory that belongs to you. A story worth telling.
Send word
info@marconasupperclub.comTell us a little about yourself and who you'd bring to the table. We'll take it from there.
The list is small. The evenings are few.
The stories are already beginning.
Yours is waiting.