The next time you reach for your sweater, just think: In about the time it takes to see “Divergent,” you can be in Delray Beach, strolling Atlantic Avenue in your shorts.
Midway between Palm Beach and Fort Lauderdale, this charming Florida beach town is easily accessible from either airport. For New Yorkers used to getting around without driving, it’s particularly convenient; it centers around one long activity-filled strip, Atlantic Avenue. If you are wearing your favorite Louboutins or just feel like taking it easy, free shuttle services run along the avenue day and night.
The town has changed dramatically in the last five years. It used to house a handful of dining options and mom-and-pop stores, but it has morphed into a vibrant area with over 80 restaurants and stylish shops. Since my last visit a year ago, lots of new places have popped up, and the overriding theme is fun. Two giant candy emporiums and a cupcake shop opened within a block of each other. And where there were once grungy meathead gyms, there are now upscale workout facilities including PūrCycle, where I spotted Sofia Vergara.
“The demographic here has become much younger and more affluent,” says Burt Rapoport, who owns three Delray restaurants, including the waterfront dining spot Deck 84.
You can also taste creative Asian fare at Buddha Sky Bar, a prime slider on a truffled pretzel roll at Salt 7 or Italian at Vic & Angelo’s. At the new Greek spot Taverna Opa, staff and guests dance on the tables.
Palm Beach and Boca Raton may be quiet by 10 p.m., but in Delray restaurants stay open until 2 a.m. And dining can be a bargain; Florida is the home of the early bird special, after all. In Delray, that concept translates to happy hours like the one at Union, with lobster tacos and sushi rolls for half price, and three drinks with vodka gummy bears for the price of one. (When we said we could only handle two, they gave us tickets to come back later for the third round.)
The town’s anchor has long been the Delray Beach Marriott (from $129), across from the ocean. It has always offered more than its name might suggest: Mediterranean décor, a spa lit by chandeliers and a Clefs d’Or concierge who knows more about the town than the mayor. This year the hotel rose to another level, thanks to high-end duplex villas with bathrooms bigger than most New York apartments. It also added 50 Ocean — an upscale restaurant with an outdoor terrace and picture windows overlooking the water — and Sandbar, an adults-only tiki bar that draws a late-night crowd.
Among other hotel options are Crane’s Beach House, which has a low-key vibe that feels like Key West, and the chic Seagate Spa and Resort. Seagate has its own beach club, renovated golf club, lap pool and the Atlantic Grille restaurant, where exotic fish tanks bring you nose to nose with sharks and moon jellyfish.
South Florida has become a major player on the art scene, and Delray has an emerging district, Pineapple Grove, with galleries and Arts Garage, a cabaret-style theater that hosts plays, music and performance art.
Pineapple Grove’s tiny restaurants are a quiet alternative to Atlantic Avenue. The Grove has less than 30 seats, and Max’s Harvest, with its idyllic garden, is so into the locavore movement that a buzzing beehive produces the restaurant’s honey and the chef makes his own yogurt.
The area is also the heart of a new wellness community: the latest additions include Infra Sweat, which touts detoxes with infrared technology, and DU20, a Zen retreat that offers Tai Chi classes and flotation tanks.
Atlantic Avenue stretches all the way to the Everglades, but until this past year, the action stopped east of Route 95. A new dining spot, D’Angelo’s Pizza and Wine Bar, opened about five miles west of the main drag, and last year Delray Marketplace, a bustling mall, premiered about 10 miles west of downtown, on former farmland.
Driving there one evening, I passed miles of barely lit road and came upon the Marketplace, which was like an oasis in the desert — with a half-hour wait for a table at the hopping Burt and Max’s.
“Arriving here is like driving into Las Vegas,’’ says the manager Steve Mann. Inside, diners were gobbling up oak-grilled steaks and wood-fired pizzas.
Restaurateur Burt Rapoport predicts that the area won’t be isolated for long. “In a couple of years, the whole of Atlantic Avenue will be filled in with restaurants, shops and activity,’’ he smiles. “But as busy as Delray gets, it still feels like a small town.’’