In the vaulted, Guastavino-tiled belly of Grand Central Terminal, the Oyster Bar has served commuters and connoisseurs since 1913 — the same year the terminal opened. The room itself is one of New York's great interiors, a cathedral of arched cream tile that hums with a century of lunch hours.
Sit at the counter, order a pan roast — oysters poached in cream and chili sauce, made in steam kettles unchanged for generations — and a cold dozen from the day's list of two dozen varieties. Skip the more elaborate entrees; the classics are the institution. A stool here between trains is one of the city's essential experiences.
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