NOW IN ‘SEASONS’
The new Grill at the former Four Seasons is an energized reboot of a storied space
T HE Grill’s a thrill. After a year of labor under the watchful eye of the Landmarks Preservation Commission — and $32 million pumped into the former Four Seasons space — the fabled Grill Room has been reborn for 21st-century New York.
Seagram Building landlord Aby Rosen and Major Food Group restaurateurs Jeff Zalaznick and chef Mario Carbone have rescued the storied venue from its mausoleumlike air.
Since the Four Seasons closed in July 2016, the world has been waiting to see what would become of the beloved but exhausted Grill and Pool rooms, designed by architect Philip Johnson in the 1950s.
Nearly four months since opening, the Grill hasn’t quite become the power-lunch scene of yore. But its triumphant renewal should gratify anyone with an appetite for classic American cuisine or great architecture.
Steve Cuozzo
(The former Pool Room, now called the Pool and helmed by chef Rich Torrisi, recently started dinner service.)
The room’s history might drive off New Yorkers who either hated the Four Seasons or feel no reboot could measure up. Repeat visits by The Post suggest that the Grill’s new identity will win over doubters on both sides. The atmosphere
The space’s iconic landmarked elements are all there — only better.
Johnson’s French walnut walls, rippling aluminum curtains and cracked-glass panels still project big-city power. They’ve now been burnished, and better lit, to dazzle even more than they did in 1959.
The space could do without the fussy floral arrangement Rosen installed be- tween the square bar and sculptor Richard Lippold’s dangling bronze sculpture. And replicas of the original booths feel a bit too plush.
Overall, though, architect Annabelle Selldorf ’s restoration has made the venue gleam with revelatory energy.
So does a subtle tweak to the seating. The total number of seats — 106 — hasn’t changed. But eight have shifted to the main floor, leaving eight fewer on the mezzanine.
The now-discreet upper level draws business guys in suits, often trailed up the stairs by a $3,000 Jeroboam of Champagne.
On the main floor, meanwhile, the extra diners create a hubbub that was missing back when David Rockefeller and Henry Kissinger were running the world over $40 baked potatoes.
Although servers sport Tom Ford tuxedos, I spotted some diners in T-shirts thanks to a no-dress-code policy. The prices The Grill isn’t for penny pinchers. But its masters-of- the-universe menu — including “steaks, chops and birds” priced at $48 to $59 — doesn’t have to break the bank.
Some of the best dishes are easily large enough for two people to split.
Those include the mighty prime rib, which two of us were unable to finish on three occasions, and the huge slabs of tender Amish ham steak ($39). Some appetizer portions are generous, as well. Try splitting the pasta a la presse ($29), deliciously drenched in duck jus, and the steak-and-anchovy tartare
($26), satisfying and light on the tongue. Must-have dishes
The Grill calls itself a “historically based” chophouse. Still, modern accents set the menu apart.
Parker House rolls are so built-in buttery that to spread more on them would be promiscuous.
Prime rib ($62) is the superstar: It’s a Creekstone Farms 14-ouncer that’s first spit-roasted, then ovencrisped and served with a medley of condiments. The dish includes a beefy bone that’s slow-cooked and smoked, presented on a separate plate, and was the best mammal matter I’ve tasted all year.
I flipped, too, over spicy, soul-satisfying blue-crab gumbo ($28), brimming with Dungeness crab, okra, andouille sausage and green onions. Saucy chicken “a la queen” ($38) was a shrewdly elevated country-club classic.
Simple-sounding lamb chops with curry notes ($59) and honey-mustard duckling ($41) are exemplary of the sharp execution Carbone also demonstrates at his downtown eateries, Carbone and Dirty French. Meaty cuts of Scottish salmon ($45) and minted black bass ($39) were more than worth their prices. The wine situation
A quick glance at pages and pages of unaffordable bottles can cause the heart to sink. But take a closer look: Quite a few gems are tucked in there — including four vintages of La Palette Rouge, a Provençal blend, priced at $150 and under. The luscious 2008, with a Bandol-like nose and notes of plum, truffle and spices, is just $105. The famous trolleys
Wheeled units that rove the floor only succeed about half the time. The cart carrying prime rib works: Tableside carving lets you pick your preferred cut and condiments. But the trolley bearing a scary duck press merely shows jus being squeezed from the bird before it rolls back into the kitchen for saucing. Why? The service
Although friendly, servers drove me nuts with overrehearsed history lectures. Each time my party ordered the wild-mushroom omelet, for instance, we endured a metronomic spiel: “This room was the first in America, in 1959, to serve fresh mushrooms.” Who cares? It’s 2017.