The Arctic char is closely related to both salmon and lake trout, and has many characteristics of both. The fish is highly variable in colour, depending on the time of year and the environmental conditions of the lake where it lives. Individual fish can weigh 20 lb (9.1 kg) or more with record-sized fish having been taken by anglers in northern Canada, where it is known as iqaluk or tariungmiutaq in Inuktitut. Generally, whole market-sized fish are between 2 and 5 lb (0.91 and 2.27 kg). The flesh colour can range from a bright red to a pale pink.

Almost all the trout you’ll find is farmed, and Idaho produces the lion’s share. It may be sold bone-in or filleted. Either way, the skin should be shiny and the flesh fairly white. Trout can be pan-fried or broiled (and served amandine or with meuniere butter). It’s also great smoked.

Most of the tuna we sell is bigeye. It has a good fat content, a nice blood-red color, and a nice medium flavor. Yellowfin tuna is a good substitute for bigeye. It’s lighter in color and has a milder flavor, but still a good fat content. When buying tuna steaks, look for a bright color; it should never be brownish. Remove all the bloodline before cooking—it’s bitter

The Atlantic salmon (Salmo salar) is a species of ray-finned fish in the family Salmonidae which is the largest salmon and can grow up to a meter in length. It is found in the northern Atlantic Ocean and in rivers that flow into this ocean. Most populations of this fish species are anadromous, hatching in streams and rivers but moving out to sea as they grow where they mature, after which the adult fish seasonally move upstream again to spawn.^[3] When the mature fish re-enter rivers to spawn, they change in color and appearance. Some populations of this fish only migrate to large lakes, and are "landlocked", spending their entire lives in freshwater. Such populations are found throughout the range of the species. Unlike Pacific species of salmon, S. salar is iteroparous, which means it can survive spawning and return to sea to have a go at it again in another year -such individuals can grow to extremely large sizes, although they are rare. The different life stages of the fish are known by many different names in English: alevin, fry, part, and smolt. Atlantic salmon is considered a very healthy food and one of the fish with a more refined taste in many cultures and as such, it features in numerous popular traditional cuisines and can fetch a higher price than some other fish. It has thus long been the target of recreational and commercial fishing, and this, as well as habitat destruction, has impacted the population in some areas, and as such, the species is the subject of conservation efforts in several countries, which appear to have been somewhat successful since the 2000s. Techniques to farm this species using aquacultural methods have also been developed, and at present, it is farmed in great numbers in many places around the world, and although this is now a viable alternative to wild-caught fish it has also attracted criticism from environmentalists

We think the finest swordfish comes from local waters. We’re in New York, so Montauk swordfish is best for us. Swordfish can range from very white to almost a pumpkin orange. The flesh should be shiny, with a nice red (not brown) bloodline and no discolorations. The higher the fat content, the more buttery the flavor and the moister the swordfish will be—so ask your fishmonger about the fat content. The ideal thickness for a swordfish steak is 3/4 to 1 inch. Trim away most of the bloodline before cooking. Grill, broil, or pan-fry.

Our calamari comes from Rhode Island—the source for the best squid in the country—and we sell about 300 pounds a week. The mix we serve is about three-quarters rings and one-quarter tentacles, but we do have customers who ask for all tentacles.

You could serve this hearty salad as a starter, but I think it makes a great lunch or a great light dinner. I like the additional kick that comes with using 7 anchovies in the dressing. We serve roasted garlic croutons made from focaccia

The recipe for our clam chowder dates back at least 100 years. It’s rich, creamy, and delicious—a real customer favorite. On cold winter days, we can sell as many 550 bowls of it.

Rhode Island Point Judith Squid (Calamari) is the finest Squid in the world. Best tasting and most tender you will ever find. We source directly from the farmers. This salad has a balance of purple basil vinaigrette to excite the palate.

We make our panroasts behind the bar, in silvery swivel pots that are heated by New York City steam. The pots get very hot, which means that we can make an oyster pan roast in just 2 1/2 minutes. In his book Arthur Schwartz’s New York City Food, food maven Arthur Schwartz says that the “Pan Roast of oysters and clams are among the oldest dishes still served in New York, dating from the first decade of the twentieth century, when Heinz ketchup and chili sauce were new, cutting edge ingredients.”  

We make our oyster and seafood stews behind the bar, in silvery swivel pots that are heated by New York City steam. The pots get very hot, which means that we  can make an oyster stew in just 2 1/2 minutes. We have been making these delectable dishes since 1913.

Hand sliced Norwegian Smoked Salmon, served with non-pareil capers and toast points. A favorite here.

Fresh shucked Copps Island Bluepoint Oyster over fully spiced Bloody Mary with Vodka

This sandwich is our tribute to New Orleans

One of our favorite dishes. We now serve these delectable cakes daily. Jumbo lump Blue crab meat creates the sweetest crab cake. Served with lightly spicy marinara sauce.

We use only the most tender whole belly soft shell clams from Ipswich.

One of our most popular raw bar items. We change this daily and give our customers an easy choice to make. 8 oysters total. 2 each of 2 varieties East and West coast oysters, plus 2 Littleneck and Cherrystone clams.

We only use sustainable Norwegian farmed Salmon, flown in directly to The Fulton Fish Market daily.

We only use Black Tiger jumbo shrimp for our Shrimp Cocktails. They are never from the Gulf.  These delicious gems are crisp, snappy and packed with a wonderful ocean flavour.

We only source Swordfish from certifiable waters. Our swordfish is always the fattiest and freshest available from the oceans. Plain grilled, pan fried, cajun style are just a few methods available.

We serve our version of this world-class sandwich with unsalted sweet potato chips. It’s a great combination. Other restaurants may use top-loading hot dog buns, but ours are split through the side—and they’re Martin’s potato rolls

This is a core recipe here at the Oyster Bar—one of our signature dishes. Scott Conant featured this dish on the Food Network’s The Best Thing I Ever Ate, calling it “old-school cooking at its best.”  As he says, every component needs to be perfect.

Our Black Bowfin Caviar comes from a minor sustainable sturgeon in Louisiana. We serve it on white toast with chopped hard boiled eggs and a side of sour cream. One of our most popular sandwiches.

Our shucked oysters are sourced from Copps Island, Conn. or the Chesapeake Bay daily and shipped directly to us to bread and fry. These plump delites are a crowd favorite.

Most of the tuna we sell is bigeye. It has good fat content, a nice blood-red color, and a nice medium flavor. Yellowfin tuna is a good substitute for bigeye. It’s lighter in color and has a milder flavor, but still a good fat content. When buying tuna steaks, look for a bright color; it should never be brownish. Remove all the bloodline before cooking—it’s bitter.

Fresh Bay of Fundy (Nova Scotia) or Maine Halibut is one of the most succulent gems of the seas. Mild, low in fat and flaky, Halibut is one of our most popular fish dishes.

Our Key Lime Pie is the most flavorful pie anywhere you can find. Creamy and bursts with key lime flavor inside a graham cracker crust. Finished with a layer of fresh whipped cream.

Our Manhattan Clam Chowder is a classic tomato based, lightly spicy chowder with all the goodies, lots of clams, potatoes and vegetables.

The Saloon At the far end of the Oyster bar, under a sign in the distinctive typeface designed by Hans Küng and through a pair of swinging half doors, is the Saloon.  You’ll find the same brown leather chairs and tables covered with red-and-white checked tablecloths, but the feeling in the Saloon is quite different from all the other spaces in the restaurant. There are no Guastivino tiles in this room, though there is a marble arch set into one of the walls. The ceiling is low and black, with recessed lighting; the fixtures are in the shape of a four-pointed star radiating from a center of pebbled glass that casts a soft light. The floor is well-worn dark wood. Varnished, wood-paneled walls—the sole decorative connection to the dining room—are covered with maritime prints, old paintings of ships, and a few model ships in cases. There are two bright spots—a LeRoy Neiman painting on the far wall and a model of a 100-pound tarpon that hangs over the door to the restrooms—but the mood of the Saloon is a quiet contrast to the glittering extravagance of the other spaces. A travertine stair with a graceful curve leads from the far corner of the Saloon up to the ramp from the main concourse; it’s the only other entrance to the restaurant. The patinated bronze clock with an enamel dial may be the last vestige of the room’s original 1913 decoration. It’s been compared to an old-time barroom, but the Saloon isn’t early 20th-century old time; rather, it’s something out of the Mad Men era. It’s more clubby than the other parts of the restaurant. It’s quiet, since it doesn’t have a tiled ceiling, so it’s very conducive to business. Back in the 1970s, regulars held court in the Saloon, making deals; and old-timers say that if you didn’t know the maitre d’ you didn’t get in. The Saloon isn’t the exclusive spot it might once have been, but the customers for lunch and dinner are still mainly business people. Day after day, you can see the same people at the same tables, sharing leads and connections. It’s all very comfortable. We serve a lot of brown liquor in the Saloon. Things like Canadian Club and Seagrams 7. Most bars don’t carry them anymore. But ask Alex Dimitropoulos—who’s been working behind the bar that wraps around two walls of the Saloon since 1977 (and who can mix anything) what drink he mixes the most, and his answer is instant. Martinis. The days of the three-martini lunch may be over, but martini culture still lives in the Saloon. We serve our martinis in 4-ounce glasses so the martini will be cold to the last sip. Given the great size of the bar, the Saloon is where the wines that are sold by the glass are kept. The list changes, based on availability, but every day there will be 60 to 70 wines on offer, and a state-of-the-art storage system. In keeping with the practice established when Jerome Brody reopened the Oyster Bar in 1974, the wine list is extensive. There are usually 250 wines on the regular list and 120 on the reserve. The model tarpon replaced a real taxidermy fish that succumbed to the years when the Saloon was the room where smoking was permitted in the Oyster Bar. The brass plaque under the tarpon states—tongue in cheek—that the fish was caught by Ricky Ricardo. Pass through the door under the fish, and you’re in a vestibule with two distinctive chairs. They’re 1970 Heller Joe chairs, by the Italian designers de Pas, D’Urbino, and Lamazzi and inspired by Joe DiMaggio’s baseball glove. The old-time aesthetic continues in the restrooms, where attendants still serve customers. And in the ladies room, you’ll find an original Heller Studio 65 Bocca sofa—thought to be a re-creation of Marilyn Monroe’s lips. “Seems to me they pair together rather nicely,” says Marlene Brody.

Here is the grandest space in the Oyster Bar & Restaurant. Pass beyond the maitre d’s podium and you are under a sea of Guastavino’s graceful vaults. To your right is a deep alcove; to your left, two smaller alcoves lead to a grand arched window—pair to the one in the oyster bar. Move toward the far wall, and you under a half vault, with an intimate, square alcove to the left. The floors are of square terra cotta tiles, divided by bands of light and dark travertine. The dining room is filled mostly with tables for two or four, although there are a few round tables for six. Brown leather banquettes line the outer and inner walls. The tablecloths are red and white checks; the napkins are white—intentionally casual in this dramatic setting. Grand Central Terminal was built before the days of air conditioning, and you can easily see the original ventilation system in the dining room. Brass screens—some very plain and long and rectangular, others square with elaborate borders and set on point—for return air punctuate the varnished wood-paneled walls. The most dramatic return air ventilator has a marble frame and is topped with a carved marble trellis covered with thick vines. Its twin is behind the oyster bar. Supply vents are hidden behind the chandeliers. This is the room you see in all the photographs and in the guidebooks. Guastavino’s tiles are famous, and people come to see them. We get tourists from just about every country there is. And while many come on their own, locals who bring the visiting relatives to the Oyster Bar will take them to the dining room, too.

If you stand in the lounge before the Oyster Bar opens and look through the glass doors of the restaurant, you’ll see a crowd that’s gathered, waiting for the magic hour. At 11:30, the doors to the Oyster Bar open, and the crowd divides into two streams. Many—the tourists and the grandmothers taking the little ones to lunch—head to the maitre d’s podium. But the rest make a right turn as they enter, heading to the oyster bar and the Saloon. And to the counters.

The four counters, each built in an elongated U shape, are among the most popular seats in the restaurant. They’re covered in white Formica; places are set with blue-and-white checked napkins. The selection of condiments positioned at key places on each counter includes containers of fine sea salt and “homestyle coarse grind black pepper,” small bottles of Tabasco or Cholula Hot sauce, a covered bowl of grated horseradish, a sugar shaker, and an old-fashioned glass filled with sugar substitutes. And once you sit on your low white leather stool, the waitress will give you the sandwich menu and the full menu for the day.

People have described sitting at the counters as “sort of like being at a bar, without being at a bar.” There’s a lot of interaction between the customers. And between the customers and the counter girls. These “counter girls,” who dress in blue Oyster Bar polo shirts and short black aprons, are one of the reasons behind the counters’ popularity. Between them, May Herrington, Patty Cheung, Stella Denamiel, and Mary McNamara have been working the counters for 100 years.

 “Stella has her regulars,” says May. “Patty has a lot. You go on vacation, and they yell at you when you come back because you’ve been away. Some of them will even walk out if they don’t see you at the counter.” “Oh, yes, we all have our regulars,” Mary says. “Mine may not be as obsessive as the others’.”

Mrs. Brody thinks of the counter girls as a kind of surrogate family for the customers, who often dine alone at the counters. May will offer guidance on ordering. “For young people I usually suggest two bowls of soup and a sandwich to share. It’s a good meal, and the price is right.” But while the counters are a perfect place to sit and have a quick, inexpensive meal, customers splurge here, too. More than once a guest at the counters has ordered a bottle of Chateau Margaux ’82 (a legendary year for that Bordeaux wine and $1,250 a bottle) to accompany a big lobster.

All the counter girls have seen the celebrities—actors and directors, politicians and ambassadors—who come to eat at the counters. “Terrance Stamp? You know, the actor? He’s been one of my regulars for a very long time,” says May. “And Andy Warhol used to come in when I started. I didn’t know who he was.”  But one of the reasons celebrities feel comfortable in the Oyster Bar is that we don’t make a big thing about it. We just treat them like every other customer.

The girls rotate among the counters. “Counter 2 is the largest and it’s the busiest—and in the wintertime it’s really busy,” says Mary. “If you worked just that counter you could lose it. So we all just kind of follow each other, in around.” And the regulars follow their girls.

At night, the counters aren’t as busy as they are at lunch, and counter 4 is closed down. That’s where the general manager will hold wine dinners—five or six small courses, usually Oyster Bar classic dishes, each paired with a different wine. Because of the U shape of the counter, the general manager and winemaker can really talk with the diners about the wines they’re drinking and why it’s paired with that dish.

From her post as senior counter girl, May looks back. “We all seem to be getting older, and there are fewer of the old timers. But I don’t think anything really changes in the Oyster Bar.”

Opposite to the counters, and under half-size vaults and elongated (rather than round) chandeliers, is the oyster bar. Twenty-three high stools, upholstered in brown leather, line the counter, where places are set with blue-and-white checked napkins. It’s a popular place to sit and watch the activity. On the right, as you look at the oyster bar you see a deep triple sink surrounded by stainless steel shelves and racks packed with gray bins. These bins are filled with oysters and clams, iced to keep them fresh, and each is labeled with a paper plate that rises out of the bin like a half-moon. This is the shucking station where, on a busy winter day, the oystermen will open between 5,000 to 6,000 oysters. As orders come in, the oysters are shucked, put on a plate, and moved to a holding station. Here, the waiter takes over, selecting the correctly sized plate, piling it with ice, arranging the oysters in order (so the customer can be told which oyster is which), and adding the accompaniments (cocktail sauce, mignonette sauce, and lemons) and a garnish of seaweed. Next to the shucking station is where stews and pan roasts are prepared. Here are three gleaming swivel pots. The pots are double-walled and connected to steam pipes; the double walls allow the steam heat to surround the pot, not just warm it from the bottom, and the pots get very hot very quickly. Next to the pots is the cook’s mise en place—the butter, Worcestershire sauce, chili sauce, paprika; silvery pitchers of half-and-half wait on ice on a table behind him. A spectacular multi-paned arched window occupies the arch behind the oyster bar. There are 27 vertical panes along the bottom and 2 smaller sets near the top of the window bay arch. The outer border of the window bay consists of square openings with a circle pane in the center of each square. The take-out opens out from this arch onto the ramp (known unofficially as the “Oyster Bar ramp”) that leads down from the main concourse of Grand Central Terminal. In earlier years, there was an elegant, glass-enclosed booth built out onto the ramp. Sadly, it was removed during the renovation of Grand Central Terminal.