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\n Photo: Tammie Teclemariam\n <\/p>\n
Call it a bathhouse, banya, or spa \u2014 everybody\u2019s got an opinion on where to get a shvitz. As a big primper, I seek grandeur and premium amenities wherever I can find them. I have gone as far as Edgewater, New Jersey, to dip in the rooftop pool at SoJo<\/a>\u2019s multilevel complex (followed by a compulsory stop for onigiri at Mitsuwa across the street) even though it requires finding someone to chauffeur the two-hour round trip. I\u2019m also a fan of QC<\/a> on Governors Island, which requires its own journey but whose airport-cafeteria menu is lacking. In the interest of keeping it closer to home and ferry-free during the chilly last week of the year, I finally visited World Spa<\/a> \u2014 which opened in Midwood in late 2022 and, at 50,000 square feet, makes the case for being the biggest bathhouse in the city \u2014 in hopes its food could stand up to the dimensions.<\/p>\n It was a little disorienting when my Uber dropped me off in front of a brutalist building with concrete panels and the F-train tracks overhead. I stopped thinking about the street view once I walked past the security guard and down a curved staircase to the marble service desk. (A $100 fee included a robe and a locker but no anti-slip footwear, so BYO Crocs if you want to avoid paying $30 for a pair of World Spa\u2019s fake Yeezy slides.) Strangely, the first thing anyone will notice on the way to the locker rooms is an enormous window into a blue-chip wine cellar. I walked up to the glass panel to contemplate whether I should have Saumur or Santenay in my swimsuit \u2014\u00a0until an employee informed me that this wine was the property of an unaffiliated kosher steakhouse next door. My friend met me at the spa upstairs where we started off with a survey of the multiple hammams, banyas, and pools that flanked the dining area.<\/p>\n After getting an initial sweat, followed by a visit to an ice room with snow falling in the corners, it seemed like the right time to stop for a bite at the central lounge, flanked with roped-off cabanas and separated from the pool and onsen zone by a glass wall. The menu spans Slavic banya necessities like borscht and vareniki, sushi-bar starters, with short ribs or salmon for mains. I was still thinking about the wine cellar, so I suggested a round of vodka with our fresh and pulpy orange-carrot juice that I was glad to have when the salted herring and fried potatoes were delivered. Pelmeni with a generous side of sour cream were freshly made, with a chewy noodle and schmaltzy ground chicken filling. I enjoyed the last couple by tossing them into a bowl of chicken broth with homemade noodles and dill.<\/p>\n We skipped tobiko-based caviar dip and poke bowls in favor of an order of six Chesapeake oysters on ice, which were fat and fresh, and ended up rushing to slurp them all down when the announcement we had been waiting for played over the speakers and someone started banging a gong throughout the space. This was our sign to go to the \u201cevent sauna\u201d for a \u201cgroup ritual,\u201d something I was extremely skeptical about but my friend heard was a must.<\/p>\n There were dozens seated on the two levels of sauna bench when we arrived and only a few spots left. Then the guy who was banging the gong took off his lifeguard shirt and introduced himself as Juan, who would be leading us through the ritual with his steam-friendly color-changing floor speaker and a playlist and essential-oil mix that he promised was different from the earlier session for all of the repeat visitors.<\/p>\n I was not prepared for Juan himself to be the show. Between adding ladles of water and ylang-ylang snowballs to the hot rocks, he rotated around the room using a towel to circulate the warm air from above by spinning it between his hands like he was twirling pizza crust, casting herbal steam toward each participant. It was enough to make two visibly uncomfortable men leave the room, while everyone else rocked out to \u201cHotel California.\u201d By the end, everyone broke out into applause before hitting the cold plunge.<\/p>\n Another round of steam rooms with varying humidities left us wanting for a return to the lounge before we left. Since we\u2019d left lunch so abruptly, I\u2019d been fantasizing about dessert. I consulted with our server about what to get. \u201cHoney cake,\u201d he said without reservation, which was fine with me since I\u2019d already ordered a pot of Earl Grey and jams to go with. It was as fresh as promised, with the layers of sponge and rich cream clearly having been assembled that day, though my favorite flavor was the pine-cone syrup I\u2019d gotten alongside blackcurrant and raspberry preserves, which was resinous and tangy and seemed fitting alongside the snowy tree d\u00e9cor on every table.<\/p>\n EAT LIKE THE EXPERTS.<\/p>\n Sign up for the Grub Street newsletter.<\/p>\n Vox Media, LLC Terms and Privacy Notice<\/p>\n