Adorable, miniature chicken-and-truffle pot pie at the new Rainbow Room was yummy. “Singapore” noodles reminded me of soggy takeout.
But, basking in the luminous midday sun flooding the relaunched, landmark celebration venue, wondering how many of roughly 9,431 brunch buffet items I could sample at one sitting, I had only one thought:
How great to have this problematic but glorious, indispensable art deco masterpiece back!
Say hello to the Rainbow Room’s third, optimistic reopening in less than 30 years. At a 1987 relaunch by the great Joe Baum, I was welcomed on opening night, “Hi, I’m David Rockefeller.” At Sunday brunch in 2014, the greeting was, “How do you like our farm-to-table concept?”
But I’ll say upfront: Although the brunch menu has yet to catch up to the setting and live jazz performed on the mezzanine bandstand, it’s already worth $95 a head, not including liquor. (For comparison’s sake, at the Waldorf Astoria’s Peacock Alley, Sunday brunch is $98, and the view is not of tower tops, but of luggage stacked on the lobby floor.)
Landlord Tishman Speyer’s $50 million remake decisively reclaims the 80-year-old venue’s Gershwin- era glamour for the 21st century. It’s about time. The place was dark for so long that many of the skyscrapers beyond the windows weren’t there when it closed in 2009 — from One World Trade Center downtown to One57 a few blocks north of 30 Rock.
For all the Rainbow Room’s status as an “iconic” setting to celebrate weddings and anniversaries, 10 years (1999 to 2009) under the Cipriani organization were a living death. Chairs resembled those on Hudson River party boats and the architectural bones decayed.
Designers Gabellini Sheppard Associates have merely burnished landmarked elements: 15-foot-tall windows, crystal chandelier under a 23-foot-high dome, wall sconces, a revolving dance floor and brass railings.
But most everything else is new. Mirrors set into the window bays make the panes seem wider. “Curtains” of prismatic crystals compound the skyline’s glitter. Walls previously aubergine are reupholstered in silver-gray fabric that brightens the room and the view.
Flexible lighting attuned to changing shades of day or night reanimates the old romance. No wonder there were more women in dresses and guys in ties at brunch last Sunday than I’ve seen before 8 p.m. since the Giuliani era.
“Apple cider doughnut,” waiters announced, proudly pushing a drab, flavorless affair that’s inflicted on tables at too many points during the meal. Humor them, but head straight for the cyclopean brunch-serving station mounted on the dance floor. (The only other time the Rainbow Room is open to the public is Monday night, when the prix-fixe is $175 or $250, depending on entertainment; other nights are for private parties. A new cocktail lounge, SixtyFive, not in the Rainbow Room itself, is open 5 p.m. to midnight, Monday through Friday.)
Fourteen food stations sprawl along spokes radiating from a circular core. Executive chef Jonathan Wright offers tons of fine brunch selections. But although too new to review one week after opening, the menu clearly needs work.
Well-turned out breakfast favorites are the way to go: marvelously runny scrambled eggs, honey-baked ham, smoked salmon, sweet-spicy chicken sausage and perhaps the best pain perdu (French toast) in town.
Miniature pot pies stole the show with chicken and black truffles in a creamy stew beneath a golden-brown crust. Roasted beef ribs and chicken, and raw-bar staples like crab claws and shrimp, covered their bases.
But sushi tasted indistinct. Breadstuffs fell flat. Popovers, a normally flaky indulgence, were leather-tough and cold, to boot. Utterly awful Asian efforts were typified by shrimp har gow encased in what might be plastic.
And why are they serving preheated dessert crepes rather than fresh-made ones?
Quibbles all. Manhattan has not had a sky-high dining experience since 9/11. The new Rainbow Room celebrates the grandest occasion of all — New York’s rebirth, revealed in its radiant, heart-stopping power and glory.
30 Rockefeller Plaza, 65th floor 212-632-5000