NYC’s most iconic restaurants worth visiting at least once

This cavernous cafeteria is a repository of New York history—glossies of celebs spanning the past century crowd the walls, and the classic Jewish deli offerings are nonpareil. Start with a snappy, all-beef hot dog, then flag down a meat cutter and order a legendary sandwich. The brisket sings with horseradish, and the thick-cut pastrami stacked high between slices of rye is the stuff of dreams.

Although a slew of Luger copycats have prospered in the last several years, none have captured the elusive charm of this beer-hall style eatery, with well-worn wooden floors and tables, and waiters in waistcoats and bow ties. Excess is the thing, like the famous porterhouse for two, which is 44 ounces of sliced prime beef. Go for it all—it’s a singular New York experience that’s worth having. And for the first time in over 130 years, you can now order takeout and delivery from the famed restaurant.

Gennario Lombardi opened his shop in Soho in 1905—the first pizzeria in the U.S. It’s hard to vouch for how the pizzas tasted a century ago, but there’s more elbow room now after a renovation, if not the charm of the old joint. Still, Lombardi’s continues to bake a hot contender for best pie.

The ceiling and walls are adorned with pipes, some from such long-ago regulars as Babe Ruth, J.P. Morgan and Teddy Roosevelt. Beveled-glass doors, two working fireplaces and a forest’s worth of dark wood suggest a time when “Diamond Jim” Brady piled his table with bushels of oysters, slabs of seared beef and troughs of ale. The menu still lists a three-inch-thick mutton chop, and sirloin and porterhouse (for two or three), which hold their own against any steak in the city.

For 75 years, the gilded dining room nestled inside Central Park was a New York hallmark, a scenic magnet for tourists, brides and megawatt diners (Grace Kelly, John Lennon) alike. When the razzle-dazzle cash cow went bankrupt and shuttered in 2010, big-name backers expressed interest in reviving the historic space. Instead, a pair of Philadelphia crepe-makers won the bid. The pair revamped the landmark as an urban farmhouse decorated with wood-beam ceilings, leather-covered tables and multiple hearths. 

This reborn socialite center has never looked—or tasted—better. Nostalgia buffs will be happy to hear that nothing’s happened to the gilded-bird friezes or the famously tacky crystal-bear aquarium. The food, thankfully, has not been frozen in time thanks to a modernized menu, looking to former Soviet republics for inspiration.

This cherished Harlem mainstay has been serving some of the city’s best soul food for 60 years. Dishes here are truly memorable, like the weekend-special chitterlings and the smothered chicken and waffles. Each side dish (there are nearly a dozen options) is worth trying, but the candied yams and collards are especially divine.

To eat at Rao’s, a Southern Italian dining room that's operated in East Harlem since 1896, you’ll need a personal invite from one of the heavy hitters who “owns” a table. CEOs, actors, politicians, news personalities and neighborhood old-timers have a long-standing arrangement with legendary owner Frankie “No” Pellegrino, and that's what ensures a seat at one of the ten tables. If you just can’t shake your craving for their infamous red sauce, you’re in luck: they now offer takeout and delivery.

The 103-year-old Grand Central legend has been located inside the epic and gorgeous hub that shares its name since the terminal itself opened. Surly countermen at the mile-long bar (the best seat in the house) are part of the charm, delivering pan roasts and chowders beneath that iconic vaulted ceiling. Order classically, with a reliably awe-inspiring platter of iced, just-shucked oysters (there can be a whopping three-dozen varieties to choose from at any given time). Note that they’re currently only open on weekdays.

When the OG location of the famous frank joint reopened in the spring of 2013, it wasn’t just the unofficial start to summer—it was the comeback of the year. The original subway tiles and iconic signage still shine, as do menu staples like crinkle-cut fries and thick-battered corn dogs.

Keith McNally’s Minetta Tavern, a 1920s West Village relic reborn, may be the first iconic restaurant of postmillennial recession New York. The lovingly restored dining room is as nostalgic as the '21’ Club’s—and getting in the door as difficult as penetrating Graydon Carter’s Waverly Inn. But Minetta’s prices are reasonable, and the food is as much of a draw as the scene.

The Odeon has been part of the downtown scene for so long that it’s hard to remember Tribeca without it. Diners can’t go wrong with its tried-and-true standards: French onion soup blanketed with bubbling Gruyère, crunchy fried calamari made to be dipped in tartar or spicy chipotle sauce, and steak au poivre with fries. 

You go to a fancy red-sauce purlieu like Bamonte’s for old-school strengths, not creativity: Here the chandeliers are spectacular, the waiters longstanding professionals. Start with superb clams casino, and move into entrées that include seafood Fra Diavolo, lamb and veal chops and shell steak from the grill.

The coal-fired brick oven at this reliably shabby old-timer—a West Village staple since 1929—turns out a standard-bearing Margherita pie, thin of crust and light of sauce, with gooey grated mozzarella clinging to every nook and cranny. With good-natured, Old World gruff, the servers will inform you that it’s only pies here, no slices—a great excuse to inhale an entire one all by yourself. 

The celebrated saloon is long in the tooth (120 years old), but a recent face-lift (augmented menu, nightly specials) revitalized the old boy. The bar up front attracts the after-work pinstriped crowd, while the dining room pulls in a slightly older, blazer-wearing set. The hamburger is still honest and juicy; go ahead, customize it with cheese, bacon, chili or béarnaise sauce. The Maine Lobster cobb salad, with its succulent lobster meat over bright greens and lots of blue cheese, is a meal in itself.

The storied slice at Harry Rosen's 66-year-old Downtown Brooklyn mainstay has become synonymous with the New York–style cheesecake itself. Made with humble Philadelphia cream cheese and a sponge cake base, each round is lovingly mixed and baked by hand to this day.