Christine Quinn dipped a mother-of-pearl spoon into the bowl resting in its ice tub. Spreading caviar throughout a blini, she lifted the chunk to her rose gold lips.

“That tastes rich,” she stated. “This is giving me rich vibes. This is the classiest breakfast I have ever had in my life.”

This was on a wet Saturday afternoon, the day after Ms. Quinn, 33, a star of the Netflix docusoap “Selling Sunset” and a girl The Sunday Times of London has described as “TV’s greatest villain,” had simply flown in from Paris. She was selling her first e book, “How to Be a Boss B*tch,” which mixes memoir with self-help, advising ladies find out how to pull themselves up by their high-heeled bootstraps, simply as Ms. Quinn has executed.

The tour would quickly take her to Dallas, Los Angeles, again to New York City and residential to Los Angeles once more.

“It’s been a whirlwind,” she stated, which possible defined why she had scheduled breakfast for 3 p.m. “I don’t know what city I’m in, what state, what time zone. No clue.”

During her keep in New York, she deliberate to seem on “Good Morning America,” the “Tamron Hall Show” and most thrillingly, “Watch What Happens Live.” Had she determined what to put on but? She had not.

“But I will be giving the gays everything they deserve,” she stated, setting down a handbag printed with a picture of the Mona Lisa. “That’s the reason I live and breathe.”

That afternoon, she had arrived at Caviar Russe, a Michelin-starred midtown restaurant, in a slinky spin on company apparel — stilettos, Balenciaga sun shades, a pinstripe go well with and a collared white shirt that bared a strip of pale midriff. Her nails, lengthy and neon yellow, glowed like spiky Post-its.

She first tasted caviar at 21, whereas out to dinner with a boyfriend. “Sure, call him a sugar daddy,” she stated. “He was. But we had amazing chemistry.” She had her first filet mignon that evening, her first glass of actual Champagne. “It just opened my eyes up to this whole world, which I had never seen before and didn’t even know existed,” she stated.

She has tasted loads of caviar since. Seated upstairs at Caviar Russe, on a grey banquette with a Murano chandelier tinkling above her, Ms. Quinn sipped a glass of Red Bull — a ward in opposition to the jet lag — and sought recommendation from her server, John Gergeous. He steered the Prestige tasting, a $695, 75-gram choice of platinum osetra, gold osetra and basic osetra with conventional accompaniments.

“A little Champagne?” he requested.

She consented, asking for Krug. But Mr. Gergeous didn’t have it by the glass, in order that they compromised on classic Dom Pérignon ($75 per glass).

“I don’t drink, I just sip,” she stated.

Opening the champagne, Mr. Gergeous dropped the cork — Ms. Quinn has that impact on males — then poured the drink into a calming glass.

Ms. Quinn lifted her spoon and dove in, starting with the platinum. “Mmmm,” she stated. “This one’s very light, buttery, airy, creamy, very subtle.”

She tried the gold subsequent, including it to a blini. “This one has saltier notes,” she stated. “It’s still on the lighter side, but has more of like a pop of salt, which I like because I love salt.”

And lastly she turned to the basic, which she ate on a crepe with crème fraîche. “This one has flavors of the sea,” she stated.

Somehow the glass of Champagne had been drained. Politely, Ms. Quinn summoned the server. “John, there seems to be a little hole in the Champagne glass,” she stated. “I would like to have another one.”

Over 5 seasons of “Selling Sunset,” a cage match of a actuality present set amongst high-end actual property brokers in Los Angeles, Ms. Quinn has rigorously cultivated a picture of ruthlessness and wasp-waisted drive, elevating the attention roll to an artwork type. When she realized that the producers had given her the villain position, she didn’t battle it.

“I feel like I was the only one that understood the assignment,” she stated. “I was the only one that said, ‘Hey, this is a show, and I’m going to give the world a show.’”

Still, she bristled when she discovered that “Selling Sunset,” which particulars the exploits of the actual property brokers of the Oppenheim Group, had been nominated for an MTV award for unscripted collection. (She additionally earned a nod for greatest battle.)

According to Ms. Quinn, the present is avidly scripted. “No doubt about that,” she stated.

In the ultimate episodes of the fifth collection, she left the Oppenheim Group to open her personal agency, RealOpen, which facilitates residence gross sales for patrons and sellers preferring to deal in cryptocurrency. She doesn’t know if she is going to return for a sixth season, notably if it continues to advertise the Oppenheim Group.

“Hulu, give me a call,” she stated, jokingly.

Ms. Quinn requested for the invoice. In the course of an hour she had eaten a minimum of half of the 75 grams and requested to take the remainder of it again to her resort. She by no means wastes meals, she stated. When Mr. Gergeous introduced the invoice, which stretched towards $1,000, he additionally introduced a cooler filled with blinis, crème fraîche and an additional 125 grams of caviar, a present from the house owners.

“They’re big fans,” he stated.

“Stop it! So sweet!” Ms. Quinn stated, accepting it graciously and posing for a number of social media footage.

Mr. Gergeous reminded her that the caviar was good for maybe two weeks, perhaps three.

Ms. Quinn, along with her style for luxurious, informed him to not fear. “That’ll be gone tonight,” she stated.