There's a category of restaurants that doesn't get enough play in most food columns: silly restaurants. Or, I should say, silly but loveable. It's not a category in which most restaurants ever want to see themselves, food being as important as it is. But here and there, for a variety of reasons, you run across a restaurant that both works as a business proposition (at least for a while) and is silly at the same time. In my own category of beloved silly restaurants Trader Vic's will always remain number one.
As a New Yorker, I of course was familiar with the Trader Vic's at the Plaza. Which was, in its own way, as egregious a malapropism as a burger and fries in The Rainbow Room. To have a silly restaurant at the Plaza somehow wonderfully reaffirmed the truly crazy nature of the universe, like finding a doorway to the fourth dimension in the Senate cloak room at the Capitol. And so for many years we would, not at all infrequently, repair to the Plaza in order to quaff Mai-Tai's and Zombies, while guzzling the best crab rangoon in town and the other entirely inauthentic (but very tasty) dishes so well prepared at "Vic's".
Because it was always "Vic's". It wasn't a place you had to take seriously. The staff were always pleasant and attentive. The napery perfectly starched and bleached. The prices by no means out of reach. But everyone, clients and staff included, was otherwise quite relaxed, not having to worry about translating the menu or winelist, nor ever having to be concerned that some oddly labeled item would turn out to be something terrible that normal Americans (such as we) would spurn (or felt that they had to force down or otherwise lose face). And then of course Mr. Trump threw them out and there was no more Vic's in New York.
Silly restaurants. There was the children's restaurant at McCreary's department store where all hamburgers were served with the Stars and Stripes jauntily inserted in the bun while a clown (perhaps Clarabel on a side job) played an accordion while wandering among the tables. Or the restaurant at the Central Park Zoo sitting as it did above the seal pool with the seals always yammering and barking for the fish being thrown to them. Or the one and only Nathan's in Coney. All places where having children with you was de rigeur. Children always added a relaxed air to a restaurant that accepted them. With kids around one couldn't insist on the punctilio observed in holier food temples. And children of course both understood and enjoyed the silliness. Chuck E Cheese is no comparison because it's such an obvious ploy. A truly silly restaurant has to do a good job of appearing no more interested in profitability than a strolling clown playing an accordion.