I'll Get The Next One

If someone else is paying, by all means try the new version of the Four Seasons Grill Room.

- Adam Platt

Monica lewinsky isn’t exactly in the upper realm of the city’s celebrity-spotting pantheon these days, but on this summer evening at the Major Food Group’s posh, clamorous, predictably over-the-top reboot of the old Four Seasons Grill Room, my guests are happy to see her. “This isn’t your grandfather’s Four Seasons,” someone says as we peer through the gloom, past a family attempting to corral their unruly child and tables of young, off-duty traders peering idly at their phones. Elsewhere in the famous room, a Sinatra- era soundtrack booms from the crowded bar area. The executive chef, Mario Carbone, makes the rounds, greeting his patrons in a tall white toque that looks like it’s been heisted from the wardrobe of Escoffier himself. Meanwhile, downstairs at the 52nd Street side entrance, luxury SUVs are lined up like 747s on a runway, disgorging guests onto a red carpet.