The Hotel Nantucket (110)

Adam says, “Has anyone read the actual review yet?”

“No!” Edie says. “Let’s all do it at the same time. One, two, three—”

“Wait, I’m not ready,” Adam says. He scrolls. “Okay, go!”

They click on the link.

Hotel Confidential by Shelly Carpenter

August 26, 2022

The Hotel Nantucket, Nantucket, Massachusetts

—5 KEYS



Hello, friends.

I’ve been reviewing hotel experiences for nearly fifteen years and never once have I been tempted to use the word best. It’s not an appropriate qualifier for a hotel. How can one compare the Siam in Bangkok to Auberge du Soleil in Napa to the Dulini River Lodge in South Africa? The answer is, one can’t; though all exquisite, they’re different species.

However, after a recent visit to the Hotel Nantucket, I find myself struggling for a word other than best. I have, for the first time, awarded a property five keys, and there’s no doubt in my mind that this coveted fifth key is well deserved.

The Hotel Nantucket, originally built in 1910, has survived a fire, financial difficulties, and owners with poor taste. It fell into severe disrepair and sat on the market for over ten years until it was purchased by London billionaire Xavier Darling.

As you know, friends, the most important quality for me in any hotel is a sense of place. Unlike the three other luxury properties on Nantucket—the White Elephant, the Nantucket Beach Club and Hotel, and the Wauwinet—the Hotel Nantucket isn’t located on the water. It claims a full block of Easton Street, which is easy walking distance from the cobblestoned streets of Nantucket’s downtown. The lobby is a large, airy room that blends historical elements (the building’s original oak beams, an authentic whale boat that serves as a chandelier) with modern (comfy chairs, ottomans, tables laden with books and games). Unlike some other lobbies I’ve visited, the lobby of the Hotel Nantucket is one people gravitate to. The hotel’s simple but extraordinary continental breakfast is served here every morning between seven and ten thirty (don’t miss the percolated coffee or the almond croissants), and while I was in residence, a young chess prodigy played with any guest brave enough to challenge him. Often, a crowd gathered.

The magnanimity that was extended to me throughout my stay began at check-in: I was upgraded to one of the hotel’s exquisite suites for the price of a standard street-view room. The living area of the suite included a library wall that was lined with books—a mixture of current bestsellers (with a whole shelf dedicated to “beach reads”) and classics. There was a cushioned window seat wide and long enough to actually accommodate a reclining adult human (so often, I feel that window seats are only for show). Also in the living area was the complimentary minibar.

That’s right, friends, I said complimentary.

The minibar was stocked with local beer, wine, and spirits, smoked bluefish paté and guacamole from local fishmonger 167 Raw, and packages of crackers and chips (gluten-free crackers available upon request).

The master bedroom featured the largest bed I have ever slept in (it’s a custom size called emperor). The bed was sheathed in Matouk linens (my preferred brand, as you know) and topped with a cashmere blanket from local weaver Nantucket Looms. The ceiling of the room was hand-painted with the Nantucket night sky by Tamela Cornejo, which was a particularly appropriate touch since Nantucket is the birthplace of noted female astronomer Maria Mitchell.

The bathroom was the Platonic ideal: spacious, luxurious, well appointed. The shower was tiled with oyster shells, the lighting over the sink made my skin look as dewy as Anne Hathaway’s in The Princess Diaries (am I aging myself?), and there was a separate water closet, which I always prefer.

The hotel featured a wellness center (which, I will not lie, friends, I did not visit after my initial inspection, though other guests gushed about the gym, the sauna, and the yoga studio) and two glorious pools, one a joyous hive of activity for families and one a serene refuge for adults only.

Friends, I am officially over my word limit—but I refuse to stop, because the best is yet to come!

The hotel’s restaurant, the Blue Bar, was the brainchild of Chef Mario Subiaco (I don’t have space to list his accolades; google him). The Blue Bar offered an experience unlike any other on Nantucket; it feels like walking into a swanky A-list party you can’t believe you’ve been invited to. The cocktails were made with top-shelf liquor, the fare was fun-loving (pigs in a blanket), a little retro (church-picnic deviled eggs), and a little decadent (luscious caviar sandwiches). All meals end with a visit from the whipped cream concierge. (Vegan whipped cream available upon request.) A copper disco ball dropped at nine o’clock and the music switched to ’80s dance hits.

The best part of the Hotel Nantucket wasn’t the conviviality in the lobby or the expansive real estate of the bed or the festive atmosphere of the Blue Bar.

The best part of the Hotel Nantucket was the staff. It may have taken me fifteen years to realize this, friends, but realize it I have: Hotels aren’t about rooms. They aren’t about amenities. They’re about people—and the people who work at the Hotel Nantucket are what earned the property its fifth key.

The front-desk clerks, the bellmen, the night auditor, the housekeeping crew, and the general manager, Lizbet Keaton, were attentive. They listened. They were friendly. They were helpful. They were knowledgeable. And above all, they were kind.