What drives my passion for food? The insatiable desire to recapture my childhood. Most recently the search for simpler pleasures took me to a lunch counter in The Plaza Hotel in mid-town Manhattan. You may be surprised to see the words “lunch counter” and “The Plaza” in the same sentence. So was I.
When I hear "lunch counter", I think of Woolworth's. I remember sitting elbow-to- elbow with my maiden great-aunt Nora at her ritual mid-day meal on days she worked at the Presbyterian church in Bowling Green Kentucky. My mother, sister and I braved the suffocating summer heat and competing smells from hardware and pet departments to join her at the store's long counter. Woolworth's sandwiches, burgers, pies and ice cream sundaes were exotic; eating so close to strangers gave me the heady feeling of being a grownup.
My memories of The Plaza also date from the '50's when precocious Eloise, the childrens' book heroine ran circles around guests and staff from her perch in the penthouse apartment. Eloise, the tradition, is long gone. She left in 1989 in a huff when then owner Donald Trump refused to let her creator Kay Thompson continue to live there rent-free.
The Food Hall is the creation of The Plaza's current billionaire Israeli owner who turned the majority of The Plaza into luxury condos a decade ago.. The words 'condo' and 'lunch counter' are more comfortable in the same sentence.
Despite it's legendary glamour, The Plaza has always tolerated throngs of curious New Yorkers and tourists who want to gaze into it's famous dining rooms, ogle the elegant décor and, if they're lucky, a celebrity or two. Today visitors are funneled through The Plaza's side door, down an escalator to The Food Hall. No more mingling with hotel guests or residents. Separate but equal, if you believe the marketing.
Boston chef Todd English is The Food Hall's anchor tenant. His fiefdom consists of several informal dining areas and shopping stations where you can buy a cookbook or a carry-out sandwich; shop from a selection of artisan charcuterie and cheeses, or sit and order from any one of several specialized menus. His name and image are on display but without his presence, the place has a generic feel, like a centerfold for a glossy industry magazine. The food is good but hardly a bargain. A cup of fish soup with a side of foccacia, an arugula salad and a bottle of mineral water will relieve you of $30, tip included.
For a coffee and dessert it's best to wander into the newly opened 32,000 square foot addition. This large space is filled by 12 carefully chosen boutique enterprises. Tthe Parisian chocolatier La Maison du Chocolat and outposts of several hip New York addresses have opened small concessions . The sandwich at La Tartinerie Nolita was straightforward: a slice of toasted Poilane bread spread with pieces of roasted chicken and covered shaved fennel enrobed in lemon scented olive oil. The tab with a Perrier and tip was $20. I was left with a “Is that all there is?” feeling.
I took a slice of LadyM's Mille Crepes cake (created especially for The Plaza) to share with my daughter in Chelsea. The pile of delicate chocolate crepes each one layered with banana cream was warm and slippery by the time we devoured it. I had my Woolworth's moment.
Worth noting just for their silliness are the retailers at the perimeter of The Food Hall. The self-serve frozen yogurt room looks ridiculous in its wood paneled niche, like fast food in a tux. Another alcove decked out as a model kitchen was a caricature from 'lifestyes of the rich and famous'. The photo below doesn’t do justice to the three foot chandelier hanging over a table set for visiting royalty or the taxi yellow cabinetry. Who aspires to living with this stuff? I probably don't watch enough television.
My last stop was a walk through the elaborate Eloise boutique where I hopedmto find gifts for my granddaughters. No luck. Every possible gift object a grandmother could think of is there, bearing an Eloise logo, all of them uninteresting and expensive. Eloise would have said, “Oh my Lord!” and turned the place upside down.
