Bread rolls and billionaires: New York's power lunch hot-spots

At Elaine's Restaurant in Manhattan, that 1970s celebrity bolthole which served as a feder school for Studio 54, the cantakerous owner Elaine once directed a customer to the bathroom with the immortal line "turn right at Michael Caine." That probably didn't happen — for one thing, the glitterati at Elaine's tended to be both terribly drunk and frightfully coked-up (you could buy it from behind the bar, which was as useful as the food was often dreadful. But it still rings true somehow. That's the secret sauce of all good power restaurants: myths and Montrachet; pantomime and prawn cocktail. And nowhere does power restaurants quite like New York — Covid, kale, and those dining bunkers they've installed in all the gutters are rumoured to have killed off the glamour of the power dining room. Thankfully, reports of its death — at least according to the seven professional lunchers below — seem to have been greatly exaggerated.

99 East 52nd Street

The Grill

The power lunch in NYC was really the child of the power breakfast, and the provenance of that term must be credited to Bob Tisch and the breakfasts he hosted at the family hotel — the Loews Regency — back in the 1970s, at a time when New York needed resurrecting from near bankruptcy.

The place that I always felt could justly wear the mantle of New York’s power lunch venue had to be the Grill at the Four Seasons. It was the setting for deal making, particularly in the world of publishing and journalism, but it stretched to politics, advertising and banking. There was never a time that I wasn’t beguiled by the clientele and the sheer simplicity of the Philip Johnson interiors. Originally the adjoining Pool Room was considered the more important venue but that had changed by the 1980s. In a bit of a drama, it has now been claimed back by the landlord Aby Rosen and is operated by the Major Food Group. Known simply as The Grill, it still attracts the sort of crowd rarely seen in London. It is less restrained, but when you need to impress, it fits the bill.

I sometimes enjoy a version of the power lunch at Fasano, but for me The Grill still rules.

Various addresses

Kappo Masa

Maxwell’s Plum (closed since 1988) was an intoxicating hybrid of power and sex. The place thrived in the early 80s and was run by an elegant English lord called Robin Hollis. Robin knew all the tycoons, and in those days there were tycoons. He wore a hard collar to work in 1979 and sent these collars back to London to be correctly laundered. A stickler for form and a man of immense charm, he ran the place like his personal regiment. He was also likely an intelligence officer of some note, or had been.

It was a big restaurant, with a look that suggested Hello, Dolly! or My Fair Lady. Sunday lunch was a thing there. Huge silver platters of seafood and even bigger martinis and bloody mary cocktails with giant stalks of celery and olives the size of tennis balls.Tailed waiters and a pianist with bouffant hair entertained in a choreographed chaos of glamour.

I had my first bullshot there with my mother and an Italian industrialist she had become fond of. My mother stuck, of course, to champagne. Flute after flute of sparkling champagne. First course was always the seafood platter, served with a flourish — the silver-topped cloches removed at the same time by red-coated servers, revealing giant lobsters and clams. Fun. I loved it. We all loved it. Jimmy Goldsmith and Gordon White were regulars, as were many others. Henry Kissinger and Diana Vreeland. Harry Belafonte, George Bush and Nancy Reagan. “Everybody who’s anybody,” as they say.

Other power restaurants in Manhattan in those days included the 21 Club, of course, and Mortimer’s, and Gino’s, which boasted the famous red zebra wallpaper. The staff in these places were often union members and couldn’t be fired, which meant you had the same waiters for decades and they became friends — sometimes miserable, surly bastards and sometimes sweet and able. Rude on occasions and brusque for sure, but really part of the joint. I remember after my father [the actor Peter Finch] died, he’d become a New York icon because of his famous “I’m not going to take it any more” rant from Network, the movie he won the Academy Award for, and the waiters at Gino’s wouldn’t let me pay.

Today it’s a little different. Power in NY is spread out, and so are the restaurants of power. Cipriani downtown and midtown, and Casa Cipriani on the river, attract a high-flying crowd of new money. Tiny Japanese omakase places, excruciatingly expensive, also have a place, as does Larry Gagosian’s Japanese restaurant Kappo Masa (976 Madison Avenue). Eric Ripert’s Le Bernardin (155 West 51st Street) hosts power lunches, as does Michael’s (24 West 55th Street) for the publishing and media set. The Grill on 52nd has its fair share of the elite, and has probably replaced the wonderful Post House at The Lowell.

1 East 55th Street

The Polo Bar

There is no other restaurant for which I assemble outfits or purposefully shop for like I do for The Polo Bar. The delicate dance of acquiring the reservation alone warrants some pomp and circumstance, not to mention the interiors, complete with every RL bell and whistle; the wood-panelled walls adorned with equestrian artworks, the low-lit table lamps that twinkle against the weighty silverware, and the leather banquettes with the perfect patina.

A visit to the Polo Bar is a chance to step into an idealised world where you’re welcomed as family and worries of a hefty bill are saved for another time. Here, it’s Mr Lauren’s world, and we’re just living in it.

51 Grove Street

Via Carota

What is a power lunch spot in 2024? Quite different from the turn of the century, when I had just started at GQ, and my then boss, Art Cooper, had a standing reservation at the Four Seasons restaurant in midtown. For maybe 50 or 60 years, the Four Seasons epitomised what a power lunch spot was in New York City. You would see the true Masters of the Universe: everyone from Henry Kissinger to Barbara Walters to Bill Clinton to Philip Johnson. A place where deals were hatched, pitched, sealed and celebrated. A place where three martinis truly were the norm and everything was on the expense account.

There’s still a lot of power concentrated in midtown, but even before the pandemic there was a shift in regards to who had power and where that power liked to chew its food. I’m not saying I’m a power player, but when I have a lunch to talk business, or at least want to try to make a good impression, I go to Via Carota. First of all, the food is the best Italian in the city, and second of all, it’s a hard table to get, so when you invite someone there, you start the meal with one point already in your column. Phew! Finally, it’s popular with the downtown creative set that likes to project a bit of soft power. Oh, hey, is that Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach? Yes, it is. Which is the other point of a power lunch place: if you surround yourself with power, maybe you’ll be powerful, too?

28 East 63rd Street

The Lowell

I live on the Upper East Side so I like to meet sources at the bar of The Lowell, between Madison and Park. The cocktails are lethal, the vibe is sophisticated and lavish, but it isn’t a TikTok theme-park like Bemelmans Bar, or Eurotrashy like the Mark Hotel, or just plain trashy like the Regency Bar. It’s a dignified place to conduct one's business, and the people-watching never disappoints — East Side pterodactyl women in furs, politicians schnorring off their donors and the occasional old-school uptown literary type. Oh, and it always smells delicious and vaguely ambrosial in there.

767 5th Avenue 37th Floor

Coco's at Colette

The most happening lunch spot in Manhattan is undoubtedly Coco’s. From the quintessentially New York view over Central Park to the charming staff, exceptional service, slick interiors, elegant members and delicious Caesar salad, Coco’s consistently has an unparalleled buzz.

376 West Broadway

Cipriani

The magic of Cip’s in New York is its consistency. Cipriani always manages to keep a fresh crowd, a good mix of fun people, and it will always squeeze you in. It has that hazy light that makes you think people are smoking, another plus. They also deliver the vitello tonnato and chicken curry to your hotel room at midnight if you don’t fancy a dried-up club sandwich.

For more from the Big Apple, check out our guide to the latest happenings in town...

Become a Gentleman’s Journal Member?

Like the Gentleman’s Journal? Why not join the Clubhouse, a special kind of private club where members receive offers and experiences from hand-picked, premium brands. You will also receive invites to exclusive events, the quarterly print magazine delivered directly to your door and your own membership card.

Click here to find out more