Of all the places in which I've been delayed while traveling, whether due to inclement weather, international incidents, or the mental clumsiness of ranking members of the transportation industry, there is one that provides such a variety of distractions that I really don't mind the delay at all. In fact, sometimes I look forward to it.
It's not an airport, of course, as those are, apparently in satisfaction of some covert multi-national law, places where Soviet brutalism is the highest good. Airports are deliberately ugly, labyrinthine, and filled with services and vendors designed by kleptocrats to assuage the unions that provided votes and to enable a steady stream of graft.
Train stations are often much better, and none is better than Grand Central in New York. Even in the days when I was delayed after spending my literal last dime on a ticket, it was still pleasant to sit on the floor and admire the architecture and that amazing ceiling, and all for free.
As with most things, it's even better when you have some money in your pocket, as one may enjoy pasta at Cipriani Dolci, oysters Rockefeller at the Oyster Bar, or even a fine turkey and provolone on a roll with mayo, mustard, and lots of pepper from a deli. With cheese waffles, of course.
But, if you are of a refined mood and feel like experiencing a bit of old New York, there is a place that is not to be missed. It's not easy to find, although there are some signs, and it does require one to step outside before re-entering the station, but that's not much of an ordeal. It has been a part of GCS since 1913.
While originally created for John W. Campbell, a member of the New York Central Railroad's board of directors, as a place for work and in which to rendezvous with his mistresses, upon his death in 1957 all of the expensive furnishings were mysteriously liberated, leaving a somewhat empty room with no clear purpose. Usually, rooms in search of a purpose become storage facilities, but Campbell's office/apartment also would serve over the next forty years as temporary railway office space, a studio for CBS radio, and, my personal favorite, as a holding cell for the New York Transit Police. Over time it fell into disrepair, as is often the case.
Then, in the late 1990's, it was restored and transformed into what was originally known as The Campbell Apartment, a bistro designed for the weary and discerning traveler, or a fine place for those in the know to have a tipple before returning to Connecticut. It became especially popular after Metro North eliminated their bar car. [The government of Connecticut is barbaric, just so you know.]
It is not large, rather quiet, and, in a tip of the hat to a bygone age, serves very traditional cocktails with some non-traditional fare. Manhattans, the Old Fashioned, martinis, three iterations of Negroni, and even the Moscow Mule are featured on the menu; the walls, ceilings, and gallery are ornate to the point of making the Baroque look elementary, and Campbell's original safe, large enough to remind a visitor of the original occupant's wealth, is stuffed into the fireplace. For some reason, I never want to enter The Campbell unless I'm wearing a jacket and tie.
There was a bit of a scare a few years ago, however. After meeting my niece there, and relishing the fact that, although she regards herself as Ms. New York, there are still a few places in the city that are known to old unks and not to her and her hip friends, in conversation with a waitress we learned that it was to close after a dispute with the landlord. We stayed longer than I intended, as I wanted us to savor a few moments of comfort and grace before The Campbell Apartment was replaced with a Shake Shack or something equally ridiculous.
However, there was good news as a new buyer took over the property, renamed it The Campbell, and it is still open for business with the same menu. Some days, I just like to take the train into the city, buy a few cigars at Nat Sherman's across 42nd Street, enjoy a Manhattan at the Campbell, and return refreshed and ready to face the prosaic routine once again.
More may be read online, of course, including a few articles of lamentation from The New York Times and other sources when it looked like The Campbell was going to close forever. If ever in the city, I would recommend it as a place to pause as, like with most places in NYC, one doesn't know how long it will be there.