WINED & DINED IN S.F.
Supper Club: Group courts new members for curated events and dinners
“Something magical happens when you are conversing around a table and truly enjoying a wonderful meal.” Tamsin Lonsdale, Supper Club founder
Tamsin Lonsdale is throwing an old-fashioned dress-up dinner party at the Cavalier, and you might be invited to her next one. The petite London-born, Los Angeles-based blonde confidently moves around the buzzing private dining room, air-kissing here, putting a face to a name there, and ensuring that newcomers are ushered into one of the little cliques spontaneously coalescing in the crowded space.
Even as she is meeting some for the first time, she is intent on putting guests at ease, ensuring they have a glass of wine and a conversation starter. Lonsdale is the founder of Supper Club, a new members-only group whose purpose is deliberately social. She has been hosting these convivial dinners in major cities for many years, but this is her second event in San Francisco, and she is determined that it be a success. Her choice of the aristocratic Cavalier restaurant, with its classic English menu and fox-hunt wallpaper, subtly reinforces the premise.
“Dinner parties have long been a mainstay of British social life, but they have fallen out of favor in America, because the best ones require planning and effort,” she says. “We started Supper Club in 2005 to allow fascinating people to share a great meal and engaging conversation; to enjoy being a guest and not a host.” Having tested the model in London, New York, Los Angeles and Miami, Lonsdale decided to jump into the hubbub of San Francisco, and is seeking 300 prospective members to join their few thousand members worldwide.
Her formula is straightforward: Prospects need referrals from two established members to be vetted by Lonsdale and her committee. Members pay an inclusive $2,000 fee to participate in curated monthly events, including seated dinner parties in restaurants and private homes, venue openings and the occasional travel jaunt. Members may bring a guest or come alone. There are also extended (and pricier) memberships for those who want to participate in Supper Club events in other cities. (“The film people love those,” affirms Lonsdale, “as a way to mix it up on location.”)
There is no clubhouse, so the focus is entirely on the orchestrated gatherings, all of which require a reservation and confirmation. (“Fortunately, San Franciscans actually show up when they say they will,” Lonsdale says. “People in Los Angeles are more likely to flake, which is really hard for a seating plan.”) Members range from early 20s to late 50s, with the majority being too-busy or too-shy people in their 30s and 40s who are deliberately seeking new experiences and new connections of the professional, platonic or romantic kind.
“About half of our members are looking for ‘the one.’ But you’d be surprised at how many people just want to make some new friends who aren’t in their office,” Lonsdale says.
An informal poll of those gathered at her most recent dinner agree. “I’ve been working from home on my startup for months,” says Anthony Liatsis. “This gives me a chance to get out of my world and into someone else’s.” Jon Paluga’s job in a SoMa tech office has a decidedly casual dress code. “It’s nice to get dressed up and go out and act like adults,” he says, in contrast to a colleague who routinely wears pajamas to work.
Others simply want a reliably planned night out. “I work in marketing in S.F., and my husband
works as a jeweler in Mill Valley,” says Bonnie Powers. “This gives us a monthly date night and gets him across the Golden Gate Bridge.” Her husband, Jeffrey Levin, says, “I like curated things. If you find people whose opinion you trust, you don’t have to waste time sorting it out for yourself.”
And for some, Supper Club has been a way to establish a presence in an unfamiliar city. “I’ve literally been here a week,” says Jessica Ashooh, who left a high-profile Middle East strategy job in Washington, D.C., to work in tech policy. “I’m using Tamsin’s network to help me find friends, restaurants, a whole crop of resources I would otherwise take months to discern.”
Lonsdale works hard to find exclusive venues with top-flight food and wine. Her first event in May started with an Antinori Family wine tasting at 25 Lusk, followed by an alfresco dinner on the patio at Marlowe. In June she partnered Huneeus Vintners with a British-theme dinner at the Cavalier. Wine tasting helps to ease any initial awkwardness and allows the winery to reach a coveted demographic. Lonsdale relentlessly sniffs out new venues, interrogating guests about their favorite restaurants.
“Having terrific food is very, very important,” she says. “Something magical happens when you are conversing around a table and truly enjoying a wonderful meal. You show the best aspect of yourself. It’s almost primal.”
Despite operating in multiple cities, Lonsdale remains hands-on with each event, even if she does not attend them all. “We have staff based in each city, but I issue the invitations for membership, and I still supervise the seating. I have a sense when there might be a spark.” She insists that her model is not a glorified matchmaking service, but the answer to a modern problem: “How do we take time in our lives to stop looking at our screens, to find our tribe and to reveal ourselves?”
Does San Francisco need more selective clubs? Lonsdale’s target market skews significantly younger and more diverse than the traditional men’s clubs like the Pacific Union and the Bohemian, with a much smaller cohort but similar demographic from the coed Wingtip or the Battery. Wouldn’t it just be easier to use an app like EatWith or HomeDine to organize a dinner party?
“It’s a hand-picked group of interesting people who want to meet other interesting people,” she says. “It’s a great meal with terrific wine. You just have to dress up and show up.” For a select 300, Supper Club might be the best thing on their overly crowded menus.