Sweeping past the doorman and receptionist of Donald Trump's unfinished 92-story tower, into the double doors leading toward the elevator that takes you 16 floors up to its premier restaurant, Sixteen, you realize you're about to be a part of something phenomenal.

A floor-to-ceiling glass tomb houses an assortment of wines on each side of a pathway leading to the main dining area. The space is smaller than you might expect (by Trump standards, at least) but magnified nonetheless by a breathtaking view of the Wrigley Building and Tribune Tower. A shower of crystals rains from the ceiling in the shape of an upside-down, multi-tiered birthday cake, and light jazz escalates this romantic touch.

Those in for lunch (to feast on a $17 garden burger or $12 red lentil soup, perhaps?) enjoy the same views and a glimpse of waves crashing the shore from their midnight-blue, crushed-velvet chairs in a nook away from the main floor. Glass casing overhead holds snowflake-shaped crystal stamps emitting a prism-like glimmer. Outside this reserve, a cherished lounge dunked in vanilla and okapi tones awaits regulars with a taste for the Urban Tabloid: muddled rosemary, honey, grapefruit and bourbon strained into a martini glass, $14.

Grapefruit makes another guest appearance during your visit to the washroom. The citrusy scent may be a little out of place amidst the toilet and sinks, but it doesn't matter. The restroom experience here puts all other restaurants to shame.

While definitely high-end, prices remain relatively similar to those found at equally popular fine-dining restaurants, easing any wallet worries you came in with. Appetizers setting you back at least $20 include the suckling pig trotter and the four-story farm quail. Entrees range from guinea hen to Tasmanian sea trout ($34-$39). An average glass of wine is $14. Breakfast is also served every day, with a lobster tostada available in addition to the egg dishes, pancakes and cereals.

Centerstage Reviewer: David-Anthony Gonzalez