TAVERN on the GREEN NOSTALGIA

Notes of Concern…
…Jack Blair


TAVERN ON THE GREEN NOSTALGIA


This column is one of nostalgia. For readers who had occasion to visit New York City for any reason in the late 1970s and 1980s you may have dined at one of the city’s most famous restaurants: Tavern on the Green.

I have not thought recently about the restaurant but a mention of it in one of the Sunday papers brought back a flood of memories.

In the early 1970’s, as an executive of a Midwest based banking organization, I traveled often to New York City on business. As is often the case with businessmen, I found a restaurant and bar that I particularly enjoyed. It was called Maxwell’s Plum. It was a very ornate place with a long and popular bar that diners passed on their way to a table. Maxwell’s Plum was the preferred “hangout” for young New Yorkers so if you went there to dine you really did have to fight your way back to the tables in the rear of the restaurant. In was not at all uncommon for the bar crowd to be 3-4 people deep.

I remember the restaurant had loudly colored stain glass as a ceiling, deep and rich woods surrounded the tables and comprised the bar, and brass rails were everywhere.

When my career moved me from the Midwest to a bank in New York City, I looked forward to entertaining clients at Maxwell’s Plum. But when I arrived I found that the owner of Maxwell’s Plum had taken a huge step in opening a new restaurant on the site of a famous old restaurant called Tavern on the Green. It was the talk of the town.

Warner Leroy, son of fabled movie producer Mervyn Leroy, had created an almost completely glass building in Central Park. It was a restaurant where there was no such thing as a “bad table”.

With all the beautiful surroundings of Central Park visible from every table, you might have thought he would be satisfied. Not Warner Leroy. He very carefully strung small lights around every branch on every tree that could be seen from inside his restaurant. Those dining after dark were treated to a magnificent sight of the park all aglow with little white lights.

LeRoy did not stop there. In case some might look “up” rather than “out” he had the ceilings painted in multiple pastels and decorated as if they were the tops of wedding cakes. The intricate ceiling work captured the imagination of every diner.

To top it off, LeRoy purchased fabulous (and huge) chandeliers in many different colored crystals. They were the largest I have seen outside of Europe. At least ten of them hung from the ceiling in what he named “The Crystal Room.”

Some might argue that LeRoy inherited his father’s gift for “staging”. Others did argue that he wanted to draw your attention away from the average quality of the food. But it was the rare diner who ever complained about his visit to Tavern on the Green.

It was never about food.

It was an experience.

It was always an event.

It was memorable.

Time seems to bring an end to all things. As I read about the Tavern being turned into a Visitors’ Center for Central Park I felt a sense of sadness. It will be a wonderful place for people to go for information on the Park, to arrange for carriage rides and tours, to get maps of locations like Strawberry Fields. But in so many ways it will never replace the legendary Tavern on the Green.

The Tavern was the scene for the New York City Marathon. The Tavern was a place to bring out all the excitement of New York City, including its magical nature. If it was raining, snowing, or sunny you never regretted being at Tavern on the Green. When you departed there was always a horse and buggy available out front for a quiet and romantic ride through the Park.

There are places that we think will never cease to exist. I would have bet that the Tavern would have been one of them. How wrong I would have been. When I visit NYC I do not think I will venture into the new Visitors’ Center. It would ruin memories.

It is not one of our society’s greatest virtues that so many things in our past are demolished, reinvented or changed in major ways as part of “moving on” with life. I suppose that is why those of us who are a “certain age” do enjoy living with our own memories and often avoid engaging with new things.

Take a moment to think about your own path.

Where were those places that meant so much to you? How long has it been since you treated yourself to a return visit?

Better hurry.

Your special place may, like Tavern on the Green, simply be reborn one day as a Visitors’ Center.