The Campbell — Restaurant in New York

Exquisite. I've left my written review with just this word since posting it to Google Maps in June 2023 up for a week because if there is only one word to describe The Campbell, exquisite would be it.

In more detail, the 1923 private office and reception hall built for the renowned financier John W. Campbell inside the Grand Central Terminal is something to behold. Love every detail that was fully restored keeping the original architecture while adding modern elements of design.

John Campbell chose the lavish look of 13th century Florentine style which is very ornate and elaborate in its use of gold paints and expensive materials whether glass, stone or upholstery, and its grand spaces. Here the 25 foot ceilings showcase laboriously hand painted wood beams with a multitude of colored symbols and patterns. The fireplace has a griffin carved into its stone overmantel and Campbell's personal safe in the firebox. Stained glass windows are illuminated but the overall feel to the room is private and dark.

There is a balcony in the bar near the front, and two other rooms other than the bar. One is the Palm Court, with views of the GCT concourse and tall palm trees, and the other is the Terrace, which naturally is outside with its own bar and street views plus cushioned sectionals giving it a more lounge-like feel.

We ordered two drinks from their cocktail menu, the French 75 which was actually made with the Ford gin I was going to request seeing it in their stock, and the GG Manhattan. A family member ordered a glass of ice tea. Our wait staff told us they no longer had the meatball sliders on the menu but now had lobster sliders instead. We agreed to share these and an order of hummus with warm pita and crudite. Both dishes were finely prepared and enjoyable.

I guess this magnificent space can be intimidating for some people as we saw two women in sundresses and sandals come in the doorway to quickly snap a photo and then turn and run back down the stairs. Biding our time before heading downtown for a walking tour in NoHo (which I'll also be reviewing) we can't think of a better place we could have done this soaking in every minute.

Arriving soon after their opening hour of noon, we were able to be seated without a reservation on a Sunday. The bartender said their really busy hours start on Thursday. It's best to book a table during this time...

I celebrated my 60th birthday at the Campbell and was very disappointed. While the server Rae was great, as was Jonathan with whom we coordinated the event, I plus 5 of my guests say they found the manager on site rude. Moreover when I shared my experience with the overall management, I received lip service and no real interest in understanding what went wrong or how they could learn from it in the future. In retrospect the bar was not that crowded and there was no need for us to reserve and pay a minimum.

Examples of my and my guests complaints: Our tab was closed at 11:30 pm while the bar was still serving. Moreover, there was no communication of where we stood on the minimum, and the bill was presented to me with ~ a $500 minimum included in the bill and absolutely no mention of it to me. I have hosted numerous other events with minimums and the practice is to inform the party of where they stand relative to the minimum well before the bill is closed so the host understands if they need to order more. Offensive to not communicate about the additional charge.

The manager told one guest that they could not have tap-water (which was being served to other guests) and that we had to order bottled water since we had a minimum — I fail to understand the logic, especially given we had a minimum.

While some people were very drunk, I witnessed the manager not serve other people in our party who were not drunk.

I also witnessed him tell my guests they needed to hold their voices down as other guests were complaining. I did not see anyone who appeared annoyed, again the bar was not crowded and it is a relatively noisy bar.

Overall it became a contentious night and not what I expected for my 60th birthday and not what I would expect spending that amount of money. For what it’s worth, as reference we were at The Wallace the previous night as part of our celebration and found the level of service and professionalism great and on an entirely different level. Very...

You stumble out of the urban churn of Midtown—car horns, the scent of street meat, and the distant scream of some poor bastard’s timeline unraveling. You push through the crowd, duck into Grand Central like you’re diving under surf, and suddenly, you’re inside a goddamn cathedral to movement. People in suits, tourists with fanny packs, everyone chasing something. And then—then—you find it.

The Campbell.

Not a bar. A lair. A booze-drenched time warp. A place where Gatsby might’ve poured a stiff one after torching West Egg. A place with enough velvet and mahogany to make you forget what decade you’re in—or care.

Once the private office of a 1920s financier, The Campbell has the kind of unapologetic opulence that whispers, “Remember when luxury meant something?” Thirty-foot ceilings. A fireplace big enough to roast a whole pig. And bartenders in tailored vests who mix a Manhattan the way it was meant to be mixed—no molecular foam, no kale-infused bitters, no pretense. Just rye, vermouth, bitters, and cold, calculated respect for the drink.

It’s not cheap. Of course it’s not. But you’re not here for happy hour discounts or Tinder dates. You’re here to pause time, to pretend for one drink—or four—that you’re a titan of industry waiting for your mistress and a Cuban cigar.

The clientele? A mix. Finance bros high on mergers, silver-haired foxes in bespoke suits, the occasional lost soul who wandered in looking for the bathroom and stayed for the whiskey. It’s all part of the charm. The Campbell doesn’t care who you are—only that you know how to sit still, sip slow, and soak in the ghosts of old New York.

You don’t come here to be seen. You come here...