Exclusive Opening: The New Vineta Hotel - A Romantic Oasis

Palm Beach's New Jewel: A First Look

By the time the first vintage convertibles began to glide up Cocoanut Row, the dusk light over Palm Beach had turned the white stucco of the new Vineta Hotel a tender shade of rose. Torches flickered along the low walls, palms shifted in the ocean breeze, and a ripple of anticipation ran through the crowd gathered at the entrance. This was more than a party. For the island’s old guard, it was a homecoming to a beloved landmark once known as the Chesterfield; for the new generation of romantics, it was a first glimpse of a property already being spoken of in hushed, almost possessive tones.

Valets moved with choreographed ease, doors opened with a soft click, and guests spilled from town cars and quiet electric SUVs wrapped in silk, linen, and the faint scent of gardenia. Couples paused at the foot of the steps, taking in the façade that has presided over this corner since the 1920s: the arching loggias and wrought-iron balconies of a near-century-old Mediterranean Revival gem, now restored and sharpened by the hand of designer Tino Zervudachi. What once felt cozy and clubby as the Chesterfield has been reimagined as something at once more luminous and more intimate, the island’s past carefully burnished rather than erased.

Crossing the threshold, the night seemed to contract. Inside, the air cooled and carried a new, carefully layered perfume: white florals from arrangements spilling out of low ceramic bowls, beeswax from the taper candles lining the lobby console, and the briny tang of the Atlantic wafting in whenever the doors whispered open. A string quartet tucked discreetly beneath the sweeping staircase folded jazz standards into soft bossa novas, creating a soundscape that felt like a bridge between the hotel’s storied past and the world it is stepping into now.

The guest list for the opening read like a who’s who of Palm Beach and beyond: art patrons with weathered tans, young financiers in rumpled linen, European regulars of Oetker Collection’s grande dames in Paris and Antibes, and couples clearly here for something more personal than an industry debut. At one point, an older gentleman in a perfectly cut navy blazer paused near the lobby fireplace, his eyes briefly misting as he traced the outline of the restored mantel with a fingertip. He turned to his partner and, without resorting to words, lifted her hand to his lips in a gesture that said what many here felt: the Vineta was back, and somehow more itself than it had ever been.

The hotel’s managing director, a poised figure in a cream silk suit, moved through the crowd with quiet assurance, stopping to greet longtime guests who remembered holiday luncheons and late-night dancing in the building’s previous life. She described this evening as the start of a new chapter, one that would bring Oetker Collection’s signature of precise, almost familial hospitality to this side of the Atlantic. Looking around at the trays of chilled champagne flutes, the way staff anticipated a glance or a gesture before it became a request, it seemed evident that the Vineta had been calibrated to the subtle rhythms of romance: unhurried, attentive, and always leaving room for surprise.

Outside, beneath a sky pricked with winter stars, the central courtyard glowed like a lantern. Lanterns dangled from citrus trees heavy with fruit, scattering patterns of light across marble pavers. Along one wall, a roving cart gleamed with silver buckets packed with ice, necks of champagne bottles emerging like polished sculpture. A second cart, the evening’s most Instagrammed attraction, showcased pastel mounds of gelato under a glass canopy: Meyer lemon, pistachio, blood orange, and a dusky rose flavor perfumed with hibiscus. Couples drifted through, pausing to share a spoonful, laughing as the cold sweetness melted faster than decorum usually allows in Palm Beach.

Standing at the edge of the courtyard, with the soft percussion of glassware and the murmur of conversation floating up to the loggias above, it was easy to understand why the Vineta’s return has felt almost mythic to islanders. This is more than a new hotel opening; it is the reanimation of a landmark that has always seemed to exist slightly out of time. Tonight, with music spilling into the warm January air and the distant hush of waves just two blocks away on Worth Avenue’s hidden beach approaches, the Vineta is once again where Palm Beach comes to fall in love with itself.

Mediterranean Dreams: Design and Ambiance

By day, the restored façade of the Vineta Hotel could be a postcard plucked from the Ligurian coast or the back streets of Capri. The historic Mediterranean Revival architecture, a hallmark of early Palm Beach, has been coaxed back to life rather than over-polished. Under Tino Zervudachi’s direction, the stucco glows a soft, creamy white, its edges softened by decades of tropical light. Pale shell-pink shutters, sage-green window frames, and wrought-iron railings with just a trace of patina give the building an almost cinematic quality, as if one might look up at any moment and spot a 1930s film star leaning over a balcony, scarf fluttering in the sea breeze.

Inside, the palette shifts into a symphony of washed pastels and sun-faded hues, punctuated by unexpected notes of inky blue and coral. The lobby is an elegant prologue: checkerboard stone floors underfoot, cool and smooth to the touch, and walls dressed in pale straw with subtle plaster reliefs that reveal themselves slowly, like the imprint of waves on sand. Tall potted palms reach towards a ceiling traced with decorative molding, while low-slung armchairs in oyster linen invite lingering. There is a sense of Mediterranean nonchalance here, a refusal to rush, that makes even the act of checking in feel like the start of a love story.

The most romantic corners of the Vineta, however, are discovered in the spaces that lie just beyond the obvious. A discreet archway off the lobby leads into the reimagined bar, an homage to the legendary Leopard Lounge yet unmistakably its own creation. The ceiling, once famously painted with leopards, has been transformed into a deep midnight canopy dusted with gold-leaf constellations. Light falls in pools from brass sconces, catching the facets of cut-glass coupes and the sheen of a marble-topped counter with only a handful of seats. It is the kind of room where couples sit close enough that conversation becomes a private climate, where the clink of ice is almost as important as the recipes on the cocktails list.

Step further, and the hotel’s courtyard reveals itself as its true stage set. Here, the Mediterranean inspiration becomes more explicit: fragrant jasmine climbs weathered stone walls, bougainvillea spills down from balconies in bright cascades, and a small fountain at the center murmurs over hand-painted tiles. Bistro chairs in pale rattan cluster around candlelit tables; at one, a couple leans in over shared plates of grilled langoustines, while at another, two newlyweds trace routes on a worn paper map, plotting bike rides and beach walks for the following morning. It is a space made for long lunches that stretch lazily into the blue hour, and for dinners that end only when the candles have burned low and the moon has climbed high over the palms.

The pool terrace, a newly sculpted jewel box at the rear of the property, continues the theme of Riviera elegance translated for South Florida’s languid climate. Loungers in chalk-white upholstery are lined up with a precision that never feels rigid, shaded by broad striped umbrellas in chalk and pale sand. The tiles around the pool have been chosen as much for their aesthetic as their underfoot feel: cool even in afternoon sun, with a faint texture that keeps bare feet steady. Couples linger in the shallow end, glasses of pale rosé or citrusy spritzes resting on the edge, while the faint hiss of the ocean beyond the property line mixes with the rustle of palm fronds and the low hum of a playlist that leans toward French pop and classic bossa nova.

Art, too, plays a key role in the Vineta’s romantic narrative. In the corridors, curated vintage photographs of Palm Beach in its mid-century heyday are interspersed with contemporary pieces commissioned specifically for the property. A series of abstract canvases in graded shades of sea-glass green and coral line the staircase landings, evoking sunsets and shallow reefs without ever lapsing into cliché. In one intimate sitting room, a sculptural ceramic installation loops along the wall like a line of interlinked shells, a gentle reminder that the hotel is tethered as much to the nearby ocean as it is to the glamour of Worth Avenue.

Perhaps the most thoughtful design flourish is the way light is choreographed throughout the building. By day, tall windows and French doors flood the public spaces with Florida sun, softened by sheer drapes that turn the edges of the view gauzy and romantic. By night, the mood shifts entirely. Table lamps glow on marble consoles, candles flicker along windowsills, and uplighting in the courtyard turns the greenery into a stage set for whispered conversations and slow dances. The result is a hotel that feels perpetually poised at the cusp of something: a proposal, an anniversary toast, a stolen weekend that might become a ritual.

A Suite Escape: Luxurious Accommodations for Lovers

Upstairs, behind graceful archways and along hushed corridors, the Vineta’s forty-one guest rooms and suites reveal the most private expression of the hotel’s romantic ambition. Each door opens not simply into a room, but into what feels like a curated apartment in a particularly elegant corner of the Mediterranean, translated through the lens of Palm Beach light. The color stories are subtle and calming: celadon and shell-pink in one room, dove gray and sea-glass blue in another, always anchored by bright white linens that catch the sun and seem to glow softly at dusk.

Step into one of the ocean-facing suites and the sense of retreat is immediate. A hallway lined with framed sketches of coastal architecture leads into a living space that is both tailored and inviting. A curved sofa in sandy linen faces French doors that open onto a wrought-iron balcony, while a low vintage-inspired trunk serves as both coffee table and storage for glossy art books on Florida gardens and Mediterranean villas. Underfoot, a thick wool rug in a quiet geometric pattern softens each step, inviting bare feet on cool mornings and late-night wanderings between bed and balcony.

The bedrooms are designed with couples very much in mind. King beds sit high on upholstered headboards wrapped in textured fabric, flanked by perfectly placed reading lamps with warm, dimmable light ideal for late-night novels or early-morning letters. Sheets are whisper-soft, with a thread count you feel more than you see, and duvets are just the right weight for South Florida’s subtropical nights. On one bedside table, a small posy of fresh flowers in a simple ceramic vase; on the other, a slip of parchment with a handwritten note welcoming you by name, a hallmark of Oetker Collection’s highly personalized touch.

For those seeking something truly indulgent, the Vineta’s signature romantic suites elevate the experience further. One corner suite, favored by the first couples invited to preview the property, features a spacious private terrace partially framed by pink bougainvillea. Here, a small bistro table is set each morning with a linen cloth, freshly squeezed citrus juices, and a silver pot of coffee, allowing guests to start the day in solitude as the palms sway and the scent of the sea filters inland. In the evenings, the same terrace can transform into the setting for a private dinner under the stars, the hotel’s culinary team orchestrating everything from candle placement to wine pairings.

Bathrooms are sanctuaries unto themselves, framed in veined marble and soft brass. Deep soaking tubs beckon with trays laid out for couples: bath salts scented with neroli and bergamot, exfoliating sea sponges, and small glass bottles of bath oils crafted for the hotel. Oversized showers with rainfall heads and separate hand showers allow for an indulgent rinse after a swim at the nearby beach, while fluffy robes and slippers in quietly luxurious fabrics await on heated towel racks. The lighting is forgiving and warm, designed for lingering in the mirror rather than rushing away.

The smallest details reinforce the Vineta’s positioning as a haven for lovers. Turndown service, for instance, is almost ceremonial. In the early evening, while guests are at dinner or winding down in the bar, attendants draw diaphanous curtains, lower the lighting, and leave a small carafe of infused water on the bedside table: cucumber and mint one night, grapefruit and basil the next. On the pillows, instead of the predictable chocolate, guests find handwritten quotes sourced from love letters and travel journals, rendered in calligraphy on thick, cream stock. A discreet card offers suggestions for next-day pursuits tailored to couples: a sunrise walk to the end of Worth Avenue, a tandem bike ride along the Lake Trail, a reservation secured at a favorite corner table in town.

Even technology is handled with a light, thoughtful hand. Hidden speakers allow gentle playlists curated for morning, afternoon, and evening to follow guests from room to terrace and back again, while smart controls are tucked discreetly into bedside tables rather than splashed across walls. Blackout curtains close at the press of a button, but sheer curtains can remain drawn, allowing the first light of morning to filter in like watercolor through fabric. It is the kind of place where time seems to elongate, where the boundaries between day and night blur slightly, and where the outside world feels both tantalizingly close and entirely optional.

Culinary Delights: A Taste of Romance

If the architecture and suites provide the canvas for romance at the Vineta, its culinary offerings supply the brushstrokes of flavor, scent, and shared indulgence. The hotel’s dining concept pays deliberate homage to the Riviera, both French and Italian, while firmly rooting itself in the produce and seafood of coastal Florida. As evening settled in on opening night, couples followed the warm glow of lanterns and the faint clink of stemware into the courtyard and the restaurants that unfurl from it like petals.

The signature restaurant, a transformation of the building’s storied former Leopard Lounge, now feels like an intimate salon on the Côte d’Azur. Velvet banquettes in muted blush run along paneled walls, while small marble tables create an obstacle course of opportunity for stolen glances and shared plates. Overhead, pendant lights shaded in pale rattan cast a honeyed light that flatters both skin and crystal. The menu, helmed by a chef who cut his teeth in Michelin-starred kitchens before succumbing to the slower rhythm of Palm Beach, meanders from the Amalfi coast to the South of France, making confident stops in local waters along the way.

On the opening menu, crudo of local pompano arrives glistening with olive oil and dusted with shards of preserved lemon, its brightness offset by tiny, peppery leaves of upland cress. Handmade ricotta ravioli is dressed in a sauce of Meyer lemon and brown butter, showered with ribbons of basil that release their perfume as soon as fork meets plate. For two, a salt-baked whole snapper emerges at the table in a dramatic cloud of steam, the crust cracked open tableside to reveal pearly flesh that tastes unmistakably of the sea just two blocks away.

Service, true to Oetker tradition, is choreographed but never stiff. Waiters remember names after a single introduction, anticipate when a couple might prefer to linger over a shared dessert rather than order another course, and offer quiet counsel on which dishes are best for sharing. One young server, answering a question about the provenance of the restaurant’s deeply fragrant olive oil, replies not with a rehearsed speech but with a short story about a family-run grove in Liguria the chef visited during the off-season. It is these small human moments that make the dining experience feel less like an obligatory hotel meal and more like a scene in an ongoing narrative.

For guests who prefer their romance in daylight, the poolside restaurant, inspired by a Mediterranean beach club, becomes a languid playground. Under striped umbrellas, couples linger over late breakfasts of just-baked croissants layered with Florida citrus marmalade, or indulge in long lunches of grilled octopus with charred lemon, delicate zucchini fritti, and chilled local rosé that catches the sun in their glasses. The soundtrack is a soft murmur of conversation, the occasional splash from the pool, and the faint hiss of the ocean breeze slipping through the palms. Staff glide by with small, unexpected gestures: a complimentary plate of marinated olives here, a suggestion to try the house-made sorbet between dips there.

As twilight settles, the hotel’s diminutive American Bar, with its handful of velvet barstools and dim, flattering light, becomes the stage for some of the night’s most charged encounters. Behind the marble bar, bartenders in crisp white jackets stir and shake with the kind of precision usually reserved for laboratories. Signature cocktails lean into the hotel’s dual identity: a Vineta Spritz blends blood orange, local grapefruit, and a whisper of rosemary over ice; a Worth Avenue Martini pays homage to Palm Beach’s famed shopping street with a garnish of candied citrus peel and a frozen grape. Couples tuck themselves into corners, fingers tracing the condensation on their glasses as they weigh whether to linger here or surrender to the courtyard’s candlelit lure.

For those seeking something truly singular, the Vineta’s culinary team has crafted a suite of romantic experiences that unfold beyond the usual restaurant setting. One of the most coveted is the private courtyard dinner, available to only one couple each evening. After sunset, a small table is set in a secluded corner of the courtyard, shielded by tall hedges and framed in flickering lanterns. A dedicated server, almost invisible, orchestrates a four- or six-course menu tailored to the couple’s tastes, from just-shucked oysters with hibiscus mignonette to slow-roasted lamb scented with rosemary and garlic, finished with a shared dessert of warm citrus tart and a scoop of house-made vanilla gelato.

For couples beginning a lifetime together or marking a milestone, the hotel also offers sunrise breakfasts on a private balcony or terrace. As the sky lightens over Palm Beach, a discreet knock announces the arrival of a linen-draped trolley laden with warm pastries, fresh tropical fruit, eggs cooked to order, and a chilled bottle of champagne. The world is pared down to a small, perfect tableau: the curve of the balcony railing, the gleam of silver, the shared clink of glasses as the day unfurls with the promise of nothing more demanding than choosing between the beach, the pool, or another slow meal shared for two.

Hidden Gems: The Vineta's Unique Touches

Part of the Vineta’s charm lies not in its grand gestures, but in the quiet, almost secretive details that reveal themselves only to those who move slowly enough to notice. Wandering the property in the late afternoon, as the sun slants low and the shadows grow long, is to discover a series of scenes designed almost like vignettes in a film about romantic escape.

Near the far end of the courtyard, partially concealed behind a screen of potted citrus trees, lies one of the hotel’s most whispered-about spaces: a petite, cloistered garden carved from what was once an underused service area. Here, two wrought-iron chairs and a small marble table sit beneath a trellis braided with jasmine and climbing roses, their scent thick and intoxicating after dusk. A small sign, hand-painted in elegant script, simply reads For lovers and dreamers. The staff knows it as the Proposal Garden; more than one engagement is expected to be sealed beneath its canopy each season. Guests who mention they are planning to propose can enlist the concierge to scatter petals, arrange a musician to appear as if from nowhere, or have chilled champagne and petits fours waiting at a discreetly agreed-upon hour.

Elsewhere, on an upper corridor with views towards Worth Avenue, a small salon doubles as both library and retreat. Shelves are lined not with generic coffee-table tomes, but with a carefully curated collection of travel diaries, volumes of poetry, and art books spanning from Riviera photography to the works of local Florida painters. Guests are encouraged to borrow at will, and couples are often seen abandoning their original evening plans in favor of curling up together on the plush banquette under the salon’s arched window, a glass of wine in hand and a shared book open across their knees.

The hotel’s roving carts have already become something of a legend in their own right. The first, a gleaming champagne trolley, appears like a mirage just before sunset. Stocked with an evolving selection of bottles—grower champagnes, a crisp rosé from Provence, and a small-production sparkling from California—it glides silently through the lobby and courtyard. Guests can request a glass or a bespoke mini tasting flight, guided by a sommelier who seems to possess an intuitive understanding of whether a couple wants education or simply bubbles and a quiet smile. Watching the golden liquid rise in slender flutes as the last light catches on the bubbles is, in itself, a small ceremony.

Later in the evening, the hotel’s gelato cart makes its entrance, a nod to both Mediterranean summers and childhood nostalgia. Hand-churned in the hotel’s kitchen, the flavors shift with the seasons and the whims of the pastry team: Sicilian pistachio flecked with salt, blood orange ripple, dark chocolate studded with shards of candied orange peel, and a creamy fior di latte that pairs impossibly well with a short espresso. Couples stroll the courtyard with shared cups, arguing softly over whether to choose another scoop, the gelato melting just quickly enough to demand attention and, often, a conspiratorial lick from a partner’s spoon.

Personalization is the thread that binds these touches together. The concierge team, discreet yet extraordinarily connected, excels in stitching the Vineta into the wider fabric of Palm Beach in ways that feel bespoke rather than choreographed. Mention a love of mid-century architecture, and by the next morning a tailored walking route appears in your room, leading from the hotel’s doorstep past some of the island’s most intriguing façades and hidden gardens. Confide that you and your partner have never quite mastered ballroom dancing, and an invitation materializes for a private lesson in a tucked-away salon, timed perfectly between sunset cocktails and dinner.

Even departures are handled with a romantic flourish. On the final morning of a stay, couples may return from breakfast to find a small linen envelope resting on the bed. Inside, a Polaroid-style photograph captured candidly by a roaming hotel photographer during their visit: a shared laugh at the gelato cart, a quiet moment at the balcony rail, a toast in the bar under its constellation ceiling. Alongside it, a handwritten note invites them back for a future anniversary, with subtle hints of seasonal experiences—spring citrus blooms in the courtyard, late-summer stargazing nights on the pool terrace, festive winter suppers under strings of lights.

For those willing to look a little closer, the Vineta is full of these almost-hidden delights: a bench perfectly positioned to catch the last rays of sunset; a scented bookmark slipped into a book in the library; a bespoke playlist left on a bedside card, curated by the bar’s resident mixologist for slow evenings in. Together, they transform a stay from a simple series of nights into a story, one that couples can revisit each time they return to this corner of Cocoanut Row, where a nearly century-old hotel has been reborn not as a museum piece, but as a living, breathing ode to the art of romance.