On certain December days, Greenwich briefly sheds its efficiency and becomes reflective. The calendar loosens. The air sharpens. The town seems to agree—quietly—that one evening or afternoon should be reserved for something chosen with care. The Rob Mathes Holiday Concert at the PepsiCo Theatre at The Performing Arts Center, Purchase College fits that mood precisely. It is not noisy or knowing. It is deliberate, beautifully made, and content to let the music do the work.
For a Saturday night outing, December 20, when the concert begins at 8:00 p.m., the evening starts well before the downbeat. Greenwich understands dinner as ritual, and December heightens that instinct. In Old Greenwich, L’Escale offers a candlelit calm that feels imported from somewhere gentler—classic French technique, a dining room that encourages lingering, and service that seems to anticipate rather than interrupt. Closer to Greenwich Avenue, Mediterraneo remains a favorite for a reason: reliable, warmly lit, and convivial without becoming loud. Plates arrive familiar but well judged, the kind that don’t distract from conversation.
For something quieter, Jean-Louis offers a polished restraint— elegant without stiffness, a room that feels composed rather than staged. Elm Street Oyster House draws those who like to begin the evening with precision and a martini, the bar humming just enough to feel alive. Le Fat Poodle, with its Alsatian leanings, adds a note of charm: sausages, stews, wine, and the sense that winter is being properly acknowledged. The through line is confidence. These are places that know how to hold an evening steady before handing it off to music.
The drive from Greenwich to Purchase is refreshingly simple. Most head north on I-95 or the Merritt Parkway, connect to the Hutchinson River Parkway, then follow signs to Anderson Hill Road. In the evening, the trip takes roughly 25 to 30 minutes. Many couples choose Rudy’s car service, a familiar presence in Greenwich life, to make the transition seamless. There is something clarifying about stepping into a car and letting the night proceed without small negotiations.
Inside the PepsiCo Theatre, the room does something generous. Mathes has said there is no bad seat, and those who return year after year often favor the balcony or the back rows. Distance gives the music room to breathe. With choir, horns, strings, and band sharing the stage, the sound gathers itself before reaching you. You hear not just volume, but structure—the way parts resolve, the way silence is used.
Sunday afternoon, December 21, offers a different invitation. The 3:00 p.m. matinee fits naturally into the rhythm of the day. After a leisurely morning, lunch becomes the prelude. Aux Délices works beautifully in daylight, a place for unhurried conversation and plates that feel both familiar and thoughtful. Boxcar Cantina brings a relaxed brightness; Little Pub offers comfort and ease without apology. In Riverside or Old Greenwich, Sound Beach Café or Valbella provide their own version of midday calm.
There is time afterward—to walk, to talk, to linger—before heading to Purchase. The matinee audience arrives settled rather than expectant. The room listens differently. For families with older children, the pleasure is subtle: sharing something that doesn’t require translation. The concert doesn’t simplify itself. It trusts the audience to follow a musical idea, to sit with quiet, to recognize when something has landed.
Mathes has described the concert as “a Lincoln Center-quality evening,” and the phrase holds. What distinguishes it for Greenwich is not grandeur but nearness. This is not a trip that demands stamina or strategy. It is close, intentional, and repeatable. A holiday ritual that doesn’t insist on itself, but earns its place—one December at a time.
