The Glasses

Two families, chosen. Every service glass is also the retail piece on the shelf: you taste from the glass you can take home. And a note of doctrine — the glasses carry no petals. A glass is not read; it is where the Reading happens.

Stem Zero — Masterglass

The pause, built into a glass.

We chose NUDE because the glass is not an accessory to the Reading — it is where the Reading happens. Stem Zero is the proof: lead-free crystal blown by hand and strengthened with ion shielding, so a stem this light survives a working room. Three shapes carry every Reading in the house — and every one of them is also the retail piece on the shelf. You taste from the glass you can take home.

The Masterglass is the Reading glass. Its bowl gathers the aroma and raises it to the nose before the first sip — a pause built into the crystal itself. Tea and water share this one stem on purpose: in this house, both are read, and both deserve the instrument.

What it lifts — the quietest aromatics — the notes a lesser bowl would lose.

What it quiets — everything else. The room, the hurry, the habit of drinking without noticing.

What the house reads in it — the Tea Reading, the Water Reading, and every still pour on the walls.

The glass your Reading was taken in.

Stem Zero — Champagne

The bead, held in view.

We chose NUDE because the glass is not an accessory to the Reading — it is where the Reading happens. Stem Zero is the proof: lead-free crystal blown by hand and strengthened with ion shielding, so a stem this light survives a working room. Three shapes carry every Reading in the house — and every one of them is also the retail piece on the shelf. You taste from the glass you can take home.

The Champagne is the Wine Reading’s stem — drawn tall, so the bead is seen rising the whole height of the pour. Champagne convention, kept: the wine watched as much as tasted, and the crystal holding nothing back.

What it lifts — the bead — born in the bottle, shown in the glass.

What it quiets — nothing. Transparency is the entire point.

What the house reads in it — the Wine Reading, and every sparkling pour of the wall — Bolle to Copenhagen to the Bellini.

The toast, given its proper instrument.

Stem Zero — Grace

The single glass, taken seriously.

We chose NUDE because the glass is not an accessory to the Reading — it is where the Reading happens. Stem Zero is the proof: lead-free crystal blown by hand and strengthened with ion shielding, so a stem this light survives a working room. Three shapes carry every Reading in the house — and every one of them is also the retail piece on the shelf. You taste from the glass you can take home.

The Grace is the by-the-glass stem — five ounces of the sparkling house pour, in crystal. It exists to make a point the house believes in: one glass is not a lesser occasion.

What it lifts — the everyday pour, to the standard of the flight.

What it quiets — the idea that a single glass deserves a lesser vessel.

What the house reads in it — the sparkling house pours, five ounces at a time.

The weeknight, dressed properly.

Savage — Water Glass

The first gesture.

We chose NUDE because the glass is not an accessory to the pour — it is half of it. The Savage range was drawn for NUDE by Rémy Savage, one of the defining bartenders of his generation: a working bar’s geometry, resolved to essentials. Four shapes carry the water, the beers, the spirits, and the Signatures — and every one of them is also the retail piece on the shelf. You taste from the glass you can take home.

Four ounces of Hallstein arrive in it as service begins — before the card, before a word. The Water Glass is the house’s opening sentence: designed, not default.

What it lifts — the first gesture — water treated as a pour, not a formality.

What it quiets — thirst, and the need to ask.

What the house reads in it — a real glass of water, refilled graciously, all evening.

Where every service in the house begins.

Savage — Highball

Eleven ounces, to the rim.

We chose NUDE because the glass is not an accessory to the pour — it is half of it. The Savage range was drawn for NUDE by Rémy Savage, one of the defining bartenders of his generation: a working bar’s geometry, resolved to essentials. Four shapes carry the water, the beers, the spirits, and the Signatures — and every one of them is also the retail piece on the shelf. You taste from the glass you can take home.

The Highball takes the decant: eleven ounces poured to the rim, a full and proper pour. The bottle empties at the bar; the glass is the serve.

What it lifts — the decant — the beer, the soda, the tall build, given their full height.

What it quiets — the bottle. What arrives is the pour, complete.

What the house reads in it — the beers of the Quiet Shelf, Yamazaki Soda, and the tall Signatures — the G&T as London intended.

A full pour reads as generosity. That is not an accident.

Savage — Lowball

One large rock.

We chose NUDE because the glass is not an accessory to the pour — it is half of it. The Savage range was drawn for NUDE by Rémy Savage, one of the defining bartenders of his generation: a working bar’s geometry, resolved to essentials. Four shapes carry the water, the beers, the spirits, and the Signatures — and every one of them is also the retail piece on the shelf. You taste from the glass you can take home.

The Lowball holds the finished pour over one large rock — and reads full, because it is. The spirit shelf’s home glass: the slow drink, given weight in the hand.

What it lifts — the finished pour — the spirit, the restorative, the stirred build, over ice that melts slowly.

What it quiets — hurry.

What the house reads in it — the Volante classics, the Garden, the restoratives, the amari — and the composed Old Fashioned and Negroni.

The slow hour, held in the hand.

Savage — Coupe

The Signatures, in formal wear.

We chose NUDE because the glass is not an accessory to the pour — it is half of it. The Savage range was drawn for NUDE by Rémy Savage, one of the defining bartenders of his generation: a working bar’s geometry, resolved to essentials. Four shapes carry the water, the beers, the spirits, and the Signatures — and every one of them is also the retail piece on the shelf. You taste from the glass you can take home.

The Coupe takes the composed drink served up — no ice, nothing between the pour and the lip. The shaker’s work arrives as stillness.

What it lifts — the composed drink — the Signature that asks for a stem.

What it quiets — the shaker’s drama. What reaches the table is calm.

What the house reads in it — the Signatures served up — the evening’s most deliberate pours.

The occasion, in a glass that knows it.