The complete pleasure of dining at La Grenouille

September 19, 2024

Charles Masson as seen through the window of his reservation desk at La Grenouille. Photo: JH.

Social Diary• BY: David Patrick Columbia and Jeff Hirsch

La Grenouille, the elegant old-school French restaurant, announced that it was closing this week after six decades. Started in 1962 by Charles and Gisele Masson, and without peer, it was the ultimate French restaurant in New York.

La Grenouille was popular with socialites, business tycoons and lists of luminaries including Gregory Peck, Frank Sinatra, Lee Radziwill, Truman Capote, Sophia Loren, Sidney Poitier, Tony Bennett, Salvador Dali and hundreds more of that ilk. They went there because everything about the place was perfect, including the management.

In 2013, JH and I interviewed the founder’s eldest son, Charles Masson, at the restaurant and were given a complete tour — from the front of house to the back of house. We are re-running it below as it illustrates why La Grenouille was beyond compare, with Charles at the helm. It will be missed by many.

Monday, October 7, 2013. Early last week, a friend invited me to join her and two other friends for dinner at La Grenouille. Fortunately I had no other commitments for the evening. I do love the company of my friend, but an invitation to dine at La Grenouille is almost like a royal command in itself. I know that is hyperbole, but it fits the “common” experience for most who dine there.

It is the last of the great French restaurants of New York which first came greatly into fashion with Henri Soulé’s Le Pavillon, which first opened at the World’s Fair of 1939 and then moved into Manhattan where its location was a fixture on Park Avenue and 57th Street in the Ritz Tower. M. Soulé was the granddaddy of the style: smart, chic, expensive, French, and very very good. In the glory days of the 1960s we had La Caravelle, La Cote Basque (also owned by M. Soulé), Lespinasse and several others.

Looking up toward the second floor of La Grenouille at 3 East 52nd Street.

There are probably several reasons that could be offered as to why La Grenouille alone has survived. It is surely not the only expensive restaurant in town. In fact, if you are a comparative shopper, there are several other restaurants that are similarly or more highly priced. None compare with the “experience” of La Grenouille. I think what we are going to show you on this Diary will help explain it.

First of all, in New York, perhaps because of its “survival,” La Grenouille represents a “history” of an era that is still fresh enough in memory to be sought after. Opened at this same location in 1962 by Charles Masson Sr. and his wife Gisele, it has from the beginning offered excellent cuisine, excellent service, in a beautiful and classically serene atmosphere. Flowers – which appealed to M. Masson – always were a signature. Lighting was another.

View of the downstairs dining room at Le Grenouille. — View of the downstairs dining room.

Charles Masson Sr., or Charles Eugene as we refer to him in this particular Diary came to America on the SS Normandie working for Henri Soulé in his pace-setting restaurant at the World’s Fair. Soulé was a taskmaster and it was his mastery that set the style. Mme. Masson was also the perfect business partner for the man. She and Charles first opened a restaurant upstate.

The restaurant business is all-consuming: if you’re not willing to live it 24/7, you’re probably not going to be successful – because that’s what it takes. When the Massons opened La Grenouille at number 3 East 52nd Street, they were ready with experience and the certainty of what they wanted.

During that first decade it was a frequent lunching and dining spot with the fashion world and the society that today people think of in terms of Truman Capote’s “swans.” They were all there. Often.

Charles Jr. was not the likeliest candidate to take over from his father. He wanted to study architecture. His father wasn’t keen on him going to college in the first place so one summer he offered to find Charles some kind of apprenticeship through some customer or another. He came up with an introduction for Charles to David Webb, the jeweler. Charles hadn’t considered “designing jewelry” before the opportunity presented itself but he took it. He was all of seventeen. Webb himself wasn’t sure what to do with the boy so he gave him some design renderings to copy.

Charles not only did them very quickly but impressively to his boss. Before the summer was out, it looked like he might have found his future career.

That didn’t happen. For a brief time at Carnegie Mellon in the early ’70s, he studied art and architecture. But then Charles Sr. became ill, and in 1975, he died. Although son Charles had been around the business all his life, he had earlier rejected the idea when his father suggested it. Now he had to help his mother, and he had much to learn.

Learn, he did, of course. La Grenouille celebrated its 50th anniversary last year. What is remarkable about its longevity is that it has maintained its style, its high quality service and cuisine as well as its glamorously refined interior décor while seemingly as fresh as if it were newly settled.

A view from the dining room looking toward the entrance.

You don’t think about it when you lunch or dine there. You just think you’re in a very fortunate moment in your life. And you are: it’s a total pleasure to experience. Because I’m not a food critic in any way, I looked up some of La Grenouille’s reviews. I wasn’t surprised to see that most of them reflected exactly my experience. Mimi Sheraton, the great New York food critic, in writing again about the restaurant five years ago talked about Charles and the flowers – an important contribution:

He moved on to roses: “I snap off the thorns that will be below the water level, so the stems can absorb better, but I leave on those above, so they do not take in too much air and let the flowers open too quickly.” As for the trick of keeping the flowers fresh through Saturday, “That is a job!” he said. “I replace some flowers and change the water every morning. We can’t lift those huge things down, so we use a hose and tank to siphon off the stale water and then run in fresh. I like vases made of clear glass, so dirty water would not only smell but it would look murky.”

The flowers on the table, just like the flowers in the large vases, are made in the morning and reflect the season. "It changes a lot and depends on the market and the menu items," says Charles. You’ll never see two of the same bouquets on consecutive days. — The flowers on the table, just like the flowers in the large vases, are made in the morning and reflect the season. “It changes a lot and depends on the market and the menu items,” says Charles. You’ll never see two of the same bouquets on consecutive days.

One day last Spring, JH and I went to lunch at La Grenouille for the purpose of writing something about it. Its history has been recorded several times. Its menu has been reviewed countless times. Charles’ factual history has seen print often. I wasn’t sure what the angle would be (except to recount again what an excellent experience it is to lunch or dine there).

So with JH’s eye with his camera, Charles gave us a tour of the entire restaurant. He is a quiet spoken fellow, very American but reserved but gently resolute. As the photos bear witness, it was as much a pleasure as any meal you could have at La Grenouille. It is a story about an artist and his Art. In the beginning, before his time, it was the Culinary Art and service. A half century and second generation later, it remains that, but it has been quietly but deliberately enhanced by the art of the son.

Charles Masson is foremost an artist. He paints to this day, he pursued it briefly academically; but his art is his life is his business, this restaurant, La Grenouille. Every inch of it, every moment and morsel; every glance around the room, is to view his canvas.

Charles’s father bought the bronze lamps in France before the restaurant existed. They were stored in a suitcase/trunk for several years and he brought them with his family to New York. Charles recalled: “We used to sit on that trunk in Stuyvesant Town where we lived." When the restaurant was ready for its opening, they looked at the floor plan and counted 32 tables. And it so happened there were 32 lamps stored in that trunk. — Charles’s father bought the bronze lamps in France before the restaurant existed. They were stored in a suitcase/trunk for several years and he brought them with his family to New York. Charles recalled: “We used to sit on that trunk in Stuyvesant Town where we lived.” When the restaurant was ready for its opening, they looked at the floor plan and counted 32 tables. And it so happened there were 32 lamps stored in that trunk.

The two and a half story building was built as a stable in 1871. At that time this part of Fifth Avenue was barely developing as a residential street for the elite moving uptown. Although within a decade, the Vanderbilt family en masse would begin building their palaces just around the corner from this stable.

I mentioned to Charles that at that time in New York, right on the corner of Fifth Avenue and 52nd Street was a large house owned by a Madame Restell. Madame Restell was theabortionist to society, and quite successful. We were standing in the dining room on the second floor of the restaurant when I recounted that. Charles responded by pointing to the floor: “It was right here,” he said.

It was also right in that room, amazingly, 70 years after Madam Restell, that Antoine de Saint-Exupéry sat at a desk in that same room and wrote “The Little Prince.” For a long time, Charles told us, the French would not accept that truth. Now, however, the desk on which he wrote it resides in a French museum.

JH and I began our lunch visit to La Grenouille at table. Let us take you there …

**THE LIGHTING:** “We ran out of light bulbs at one point,” and Charles’s father soon discovered the manufacturer had stopped making them in the same color. The newer version was redder. His father was very upset with this difference in shade: it changed the atmosphere.
He first decided to take white bulbs up to his little attic where he painted them the color he wanted. The problem was the paint would peel off as the light bulb heated. He called Charles who was then studying at Carnegie Mellon in Pittsburgh, and said, “I really have a serious problem with the light bulbs. Maybe you could find someone out there who makes light bulbs.”
It so happened there was a student down the hall in Charles’s dorm whose father worked at Westinghouse. Charles spoke to him and he came back with a message for Charles to have his father send him an example of the color.
Charles’s father sent the light bulb via UPS and the color he’d hand painted it. The executive was amused. “What do you want?” he asked Charles. “The light bulb,” explaining what it was for. The Westinghouse executive told him they could reproduce it, but it would require an order of 25,000 light bulbs. At 8 cents each. And if they ordered more, the price would be reduced.
Charles’s father gave it his okay. This was 1973. He ordered 40,000 light bulbs. A month later, a truck delivered the light bulbs. Mr. Masson had forgotten to tell his wife about the purchase. She was very upset about the enormous quantity of light bulbs at their doorstep.
As it happened, the company stopped making the light bulbs, but La Grenouille had a reserve for a long time: the supply lasted for thirty years.

You can see the whole room from any table because of the abundance of mirrors. "Not a good place to dine if you’re trying to hide." — You can see the whole room from any table because of the abundance of mirrors. “Not a good place to dine if you’re trying to hide.”

Charles's painting of Honfleur (1976), a fishing port in Normandy where they had the most fantastic oysters. — Charles’s painting of Honfleur (1976), a fishing port in Normandy where they had the most fantastic oysters.

A still life by Charles, painted in 1982. Winter fruit around November, December, and January: clementines, pears, mandarins, kumquats.

Vase of flowers, painted by Charles Eugene Masson.

Bernard Lamotte. Painting of Rue de Cervantes in the 15th arrondissement in Paris, circa 1935.

LUNCH AT LA GRENOUILLE

The watercolor backgrounds on the menu are by Charles. The logo of the frog is by Jean Paris, a dear friend of Charles Eugene, painted just before the restaurant opened.

In 1975 after Charles Eugene passed away, Mme. Masson asked her son Charles what he would do to improve the place. Charles knew immediately. He recalled: “The ceiling was an ugly acoustical tile back then.” The next summer La Grenouille closed for six weeks. The ceiling was demolished and rearranged with a new feel. And it was a big job. “You had to be crazy to do it. On scaffolds. I did it. It’s very hard to do ceilings. You lose your bearings. You’re upside down; it’s not a normal position. I worked on it with engineers and carpenters. It took seven weeks. I chose the woods as a painter, like paints on a palette. Light, not too heavy structurally. One wood was called bubinga (light), another was avodire (dark), and goyaban (gnarled)." — In 1975 after Charles Eugene passed away, Mme. Masson asked her son Charles what he would do to improve the place. Charles knew immediately. He recalled: “The ceiling was an ugly acoustical tile back then.” The next summer La Grenouille closed for six weeks. The ceiling was demolished and rearranged with a new feel. And it was a big job. “You had to be crazy to do it. On scaffolds. I did it. It’s very hard to do ceilings. You lose your bearings. You’re upside down; it’s not a normal position. I worked on it with engineers and carpenters. It took seven weeks. I chose the woods as a painter, like paints on a palette. Light, not too heavy structurally. One wood was called bubinga (light), another was avodire (dark), and goyaban (gnarled).”

I asked Charles to tell us what we are looking at: “Quenelles de Brochet Lyonaise. Mousse of freshwater pike poached in a champagne sauce, topped with caviar, served with white rice; a classic." — I asked Charles to tell us what we are looking at: “*Quenelles de Brochet Lyonaise*. Mousse of freshwater pike poached in a champagne sauce, topped with caviar, served with white rice; a classic.”

“Salade des champs . Found in the fields. Arugula, pea shoots, peas, tarragon, chervil, mint, and very thinly shaved radish, extra-virgin olive oil, and lemon vinaigrette.” — “*Salade des champs* . Found in the fields. Arugula, pea shoots, peas, tarragon, chervil, mint, and very thinly shaved radish, extra-virgin olive oil, and lemon vinaigrette.”

Detail of peashoots in the salade des champs. — Detail of peashoots in the *salade des champs.*

"Cheese soufflé au fromage is made with four cheeses and served with a velouté sauce made of a creamy chicken base, typically served with a side dish of frisée and flat Italian parsley." — *“Cheese soufflé au fromage* is made with four cheeses and served with a velouté sauce made of a creamy chicken base, typically served with a side dish of frisée and flat Italian parsley.”

“Bass a la barigoule -- a Provencal term for any dish prepared with extra-virgin olive oil, olives, artichokes, carrots and saffron. — “*Bass a la barigoule* — a Provencal term for any dish prepared with extra-virgin olive oil, olives, artichokes, carrots and saffron.

"Morbier et Myrtilles. Served warm on a biscuit that we make ourselves (with fennel), and little huckleberries with white churned lavender honey on the side.” — *“Morbier et Myrtilles*. Served warm on a biscuit that we make ourselves (with fennel), and little huckleberries with white churned lavender honey on the side.”

Dark chocolate Gâteau au chocolat noir et apricots, pistachio ice cream. — Dark chocolate Gâteau *au chocolat noir et apricots,* pistachio ice cream.

Feuilleté à la rhubarbe — Rhubarb tart with pistachio ice cream. — *Feuilleté à la rhubarbe* — Rhubarb tart with pistachio ice cream.

THE KITCHEN

Silverware just removed from the washer, about to be dried. “When they come out of the washer they’re dry, but we need to wipe them down with a cloth to avoid streaks before we put them on the service carts." — Silverware just removed from the washer, about to be dried. “When they come out of the washer they’re dry, but we need to wipe them down with a cloth to avoid streaks before we put them on the service carts.”

Charles takes the stairs to the "mezzanine" of the kitchen. — Charles takes the stairs to the “mezzanine” of the kitchen.

The immaculate walk-in refrigerator on the second floor where they keep the vegetables and herbs.

I asked him about their most famous dish, the Dover Sole, and what it was that made it unique to La Grenouille. “There are different types of sole – the best comes from the [English] Channel. We get shipments four times a week. It’s filleted before the customer, so remains fresh to the last minute. The 'difference' in theirs, he says, is that "the staff in the dining room are qualified professional waiters who know how to filet a fish. They have had the training. They know how to do every step of service and to be thorough." — I asked him about their most famous dish, the Dover Sole, and what it was that made it unique to La Grenouille. “There are different types of sole – the best comes from the [English] Channel. We get shipments four times a week. It’s filleted before the customer, so it remains fresh to the last minute. The ‘difference’ in theirs, he says, is that “the staff in the dining room are qualified professional waiters who know how to filet a fish. They have had the training. They know how to do every step of service and to be thorough.”

"Years ago we were bombarded with inspections from the building, fire, and health sanitation departments. We had an inspector who said you’re not allow to store shoes on the floor as it would be an impediment in the event of a fire. So, we thought it best to store shoes on a separate shelf – a shoe tower. Not on the floor and not on the top of the locker." — “Years ago we were bombarded with inspections from the building, fire, and health sanitation departments. We had an inspector who said you’re not allow to store shoes on the floor as it would be an impediment in the event of a fire. So, we thought it best to store shoes on a separate shelf – a shoe tower. Not on the floor and not on the top of the locker.”

THE UPSTAIRS DINING ROOM

"Ardoise," or the slate on which is written the "Ardoise" menu (which changes every day) is offered to guests who lunch upstairs. The upstairs room is often used for private dinners and receptions. After 2008, the room was being booked less. Charles had a better idea. It occurred to him that those men and women who like French cuisine and are working in offices nearby – and don’t want to have to don a jacket to go to lunch – did not have access as a lunch break choice. So he started offering a daily menu – "Ardoise" – to young people thinking it would be a good way of introducing French cuisine and La Grenouille to a new clientele. The prix fixe for the "Ardoise" is $42 for three courses. The idea has been very successful, attracting even regulars. A full set menu is also available. "There are no substitutions. That’s it or you take the downstairs menu." — “Ardoise,” or the slate on which is written the “Ardoise” menu (which changes every day) is offered to guests who lunch upstairs. The upstairs room is often used for private dinners and receptions. After 2008, the room was being booked less. Charles had a better idea. It occurred to him that those men and women who like French cuisine and are working in offices nearby – and don’t want to have to don a jacket to go to lunch – did not have access as a lunch break choice. So he started offering a daily menu – “Ardoise” – to young people thinking it would be a good way of introducing French cuisine and La Grenouille to a new clientele. The prix fixe for the “Ardoise” is $42 for three courses. The idea has been very successful, attracting even regulars. A full set menu is also available. “There are no substitutions. That’s it or you take the downstairs menu.”

L. to r.: Three paintings painted by Charles Eugene Masson; Charles pointing out the painting of Bernard Lamotte's. The furnace is now a fireplace. — *L. to r.:* Three paintings painted by Charles Eugene Masson; Charles pointing out the painting of Bernard Lamotte’s. The furnace is now a fireplace.

Portrait taken in 1972 by Bill Cunningham of Charles Eugene outside of his restaurant.

On the west wall of the upstairs are two drawings by Carl Erickson (1891-1958), renowned international fashion illustrator, known as Eric. Eric was a friend of Charles Eugene. The drawing on the left is an interior of Maxim’s; the center is an illustration of the dining room of the Normandie; on the right is an illustration of a dress by Mainbocher in 1950. — On the west wall of the upstairs are two drawings by **Carl Erickson** (1891-1958), renowned international fashion illustrator, known as **Eric**. Eric was a friend of Charles Eugene. The drawing on the left is an interior of Maxim’s; the center is an illustration of the dining room of the *Normandie*; on the right is an illustration of a dress by Mainbocher in 1950.

On the upper tier: A painting by Bernard Lamotte resting on Lamotte's actual easel. The picture is of Notre Dame as seen from the Île Saint-Louis. — On the upper tier: A painting by Bernard Lamotte resting on Lamotte’s actual easel. The picture is of Notre Dame as seen from the Île Saint-Louis.

The daylight comes from the skylight of the upper tier.

Looking out on 52nd Street and the Cartier mansion. The house was built in 1905, designed by Robert W. Gibson and C.P.H. Gilbert, for railroad heir Morton F. Plant. The property itself had belonged to another railroad heir, William K. Vanderbilt, who lived directly across the avenue at 660 on the northwest corner. The sale came with the proviso that it could not be used for commercial purposes for at least 25 years. 12 years after its completion, in 1917, Plant and his wife Mae (known as Maesie) decided the encroaching commercial development in the neighborhood made it a less favorable private residence. Plant struck a deal with Pierre Cartier to sell the house for $100 and a double strand of pearls that were worth $1 million. The Plants moved up to 86th Street, and Cartier has remained for more than a century. The building from which this photo was taken, built in 1871, was the carriage house and garage to the Plant mansion. — Looking out on 52nd Street and the Cartier mansion. The house was built in 1905, designed by **Robert W. Gibson** and **C.P.H. Gilbert**, for railroad heir **Morton F. Plant**. The property itself had belonged to another railroad heir, **William K. Vanderbilt**, who lived directly across the avenue at 660 on the northwest corner. The sale came with the proviso that it could not be used for commercial purposes for at least 25 years. 12 years after its completion, in 1917, Plant and his wife **Mae** (known as **Maesie**) decided the encroaching commercial development in the neighborhood made it a less favorable private residence. Plant struck a deal with Pierre Cartier to sell the house for $100 and a double strand of pearls that were worth $1 million. The Plants moved up to 86th Street, and Cartier has remained for more than a century. The building from which this photo was taken, built in 1871, was the carriage house and garage to the Plant mansion.

View of the dining room from the second tier.

Same view from another angle on the second tier.

The French flag was painted by Miss Sheffield, who walked into the restaurant one day during lunch wearing a painter’s outfit. She explained that she was working on a mural in the Ferragamo building around the corner and wanted to know of a good place to have lunch. “Here,” said Charles. “No, no, I’m not dressed properly. I’m looking for something quick.” Charles told her to wait right there. He went back into the kitchen and prepared a picnic bag and brought it to her. She handed him a credit card. Charles refused it. “Don’t be silly,” he told her, “you have only have fifteen minutes. Three days later, she came back with a present: the painting of the French flag. The two paintings to the left of the flag -- one with apples and a blue bowl and a bouquet of sunflowers (obscured by the palm) -- were painted by Charles. — The French flag was painted by Miss Sheffield, who walked into the restaurant one day during lunch wearing a painter’s outfit. She explained that she was working on a mural in the Ferragamo building around the corner and wanted to know of a good place to have lunch. “Here,” said Charles. “No, no, I’m not dressed properly. I’m looking for something quick.” Charles told her to wait right there. He went back into the kitchen and prepared a picnic bag and brought it to her. She handed him a credit card. Charles refused it. “Don’t be silly,” he told her, “you have only have fifteen minutes. Three days later, she came back with a present: the painting of the French flag. The two paintings to the left of the flag — one with apples and a blue bowl and a bouquet of sunflowers (obscured by the palm) — were painted by Charles.

An overview of the upper tier and lower tier. The steps on the right lead to a lounge with two comfortable armchairs and a piano. When there isn’t a party in the room, diners can go upstairs for dinner where a pianist plays everything from classical to Broadway.

The upstairs had been occupied by Bernard Lamotte as his studio for almost twenty years after the Massons opened La Grenouille. When the artist died in 1983, Charles decided to renovate and turn the space into a dining area. It took about three years to complete the first tier, which opened in 1987.

“The upper tier was where my mother and aunt worked in the office. They were two very strongheaded French ladies. I knew they wouldn’t be moved until they retired. In 2000, I re-did the upper tier and built a skylight, and created a space where I moved the office behind the screen. We were closed for five weeks that summer to do that – putting in new beams for the skylight, reinforcing the floor, etc.”

“We reopened on September 7, 2001. Then four days later came 9/11. All of our parties canceled. Business was at a standstill. I’m looking at this work we just finished, and now there are no people. I was quite down, and when I feel down I need to rescue myself to feel beauty. I’ll take a walk in park, or visit a museum or go to see the windows at Bergdorf — somewhere, anywhere there’s beauty. On September 12th, I went to the flower market. I had no reason to buy flowers, but I found a little piece of wood in a pot. I said to the man, ‘That’s a grapevine isn’t it?’ ‘Yup.’ ‘I’ll buy it.’ He said to me, ‘Charles you don’t have a garden, you don’t have place for it.’ I told him I had a new skylight. ‘What are you talking about,’ he said, ‘it won’t grow under a skylight.’”

Everyone told him it wasn’t going to grow; a grapevine on East 52nd Street. That was 12 years ago. Charles calls it “The Grapevine of Hope.”