Remembering Windows on the World

Windows on the World, on the 107th floor of the World Trade Center’s north tower, was a quarter-mile in the sky above New York City. As lively as the restaurant was, weekday mornings occasionally afforded the employees, including David, a serene moment to take in that famous skyline at dawn.

A black and white photo of the dining room at on of New York's finest restaurants, Windows on the World.

When the horrific memories of the World Trade Center attack sometimes threaten to crowd out everything else, especially on the anniversary of 9/11, I call up a different, comforting memory shared by perhaps only several hundred people in the world:  sunrise from Windows on the World, on north tower’s 107th floor.

In the mid-’80s, I was a waiter at the Hors d’Oeuvrerie, the lounge and international café of Windows on the World, where women and men from around the globe came for perhaps a bit of then-unheard-of sashimi, after-dinner dessert, and dancing, or the glittering, quarter-of-a-mile-high views of New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut.

Everyone from heads of state to rock stars to Broadway royalty visited the Hors d’Oeuvrerie on their way to or from Windows on the World’s main dining room, which faced uptown. Elegance and pedigree abounded, even among the staff: Waitresses wore satin sarongs and waiters bowed almost imperceptibly when greeting guests. The tall, silent piano player was rumored to be a protégé of Leonard Bernstein.

During the day, though, the Hors d’Oeuvrerie was a private club, a place to conduct business lunches and the newly popular power breakfasts. When a waiter made it through the gantlet of personnel interviews, he was handed a white, naval-style jacket—his day wear—and a schedule that included at least one breakfast shift a week.

Working dinner the night before a breakfast shift usually meant my head barely hit the pillow before I had to be up and at the restaurant by 5:30 a.m. Never a caffeine addict, I nonetheless needed a way to wake up, so I’d stumble to the dessert case and cut a generous slice of dacquoise, a delicate cake of hazelnut meringue layers with coffee buttercream filling. The dacquoise, which was made the day before, was best then; the crunchy meringue had softened into a slightly chewy nougat because of the filling. I’d install myself at one of the east-facing tables, and with my feet up and my fussy uniform falling open like a bathrobe, I’d watch and wait. My reflection would fade while the sky turned from black to gun-metal gray to a luminous mauve as if the world had just discovered Technicolor. On the clearest of mornings, I could see almost 90 miles, or so the bartender would always tell me.

When I’m in downtown Manhattan these days, I look up and try to remember exactly where in the sky I entertained guests, patiently pointing out landmarks and boroughs, and where I never tired of those sunrise views. And how a day could begin so sweetly.

David Leite's signature



  1. Hi, I’ve been thinking about you and this site this whole last week.

    I posted here a couple of years ago and then couldn’t find it again. I well remember the dacquoise, and your description of it brings the taste right back. To recap, I worked there between 1978 and 1980. One time when I was working a night shift, there was a fire in the kitchen (!). We were told by the manager to NOT TELL THE DINERS. While the fire was put out fairly quickly, it automatically dumped tons of white powder on the grill. So all of that food, at the height of the dinner hour, was ruined.

    Someone was sent 107 flights downstairs to a basement to bring back more steaks. That took a while. Customers got edgy, asked questions. We smiled and gave more bread, free glasses (bottles?) of wine. One guy from Texas was the most pissed. So we finally got the food out and everyone was pleased, even Mr. Texas, who thanked us. No one ever knew what had gone on.

    It was just one example of everyone working as hard as they possibly could, terrific teamwork, and the ability to lie imaginatively on the spot. That’s the kind of staff the WOW had and I’ve thought about the ones serving breakfast on 9/11 ever since. They were probably that way, too. Thank you so much for this site.

    1. Catherine, that you for the kind words. I never had to do the 107-story sprint, but I heard stories of a breakfast shift in which the fire alarm went off and one of the head waiters had to lead all of the guests down the stairs. Not sure if that’s apocryphal, but that’s dedication.

  2. Such a poignant read, David.

    I live in South Africa but have a WTC memory that we often talk about. We visited the viewing area of the WTC in December 1997 and spent a number of hours up there in awe of the buildings and the view. While we were sitting chatting and enjoying the view north, a red helium balloon came floating up. Both my husband and I turned to each other and simultaneously, “Remember the red balloon”. Who knew that that would be ingrained in our memories for the rest of our lives! Still get tears in my eyes whenever I think about it.

  3. Thank you David! As a former New Yorker (if there is such a thing) as the anniversary of that horrific day in September, I think back of the many resplendent moments that I’ve spent on top of the world (aka) Windows on the World Restaurant. Growing up in New York, back in the 1960’s, I was lucky enough to know New York like the back of my hand. While I was attending NYU, my future husband at that time was a sub-contractor for Tishman Realty & Construction Company and working on that engineering wonder of the modern world. Years passed and we moved south, but since we still had families in New York, Windows on the World Restaurant/Cellar in the Sky was a MUST whenever we visited “The City”…anniversaries, birthdays, weddings, engagements, memorials or just plain dinners it was always there. It was my mothers favorite restaurant to celebrate her birthday, so when December rolled around, you would find me at top of the world…no better place to be. I remember one raining December night as it pour on the street it was snowing up where we were. To this day it has to be one of the MOST memorable night.

    1. Sandy, it sounds like you have wonderful memories of WOW! Speaking of Tishman, our dear friends bought the Tishman home, which was built in the 70s. Rumor has it some of the materials earmarked for the World Trade Center went into the home!

  4. I am so glad to have discovered this! I worked at Windows on the World from 1978 to 1980, one of a handful of young women at the time. I worked with Claudette, Mr. Beauclair, and Kevin Zraly. My short time there left a big impression on me. (I even wrote an essay about my time there for the Christian Science Monitor, where I later worked.) One of my fondest memories was having my team chosen to wait on John Lennon on my 29th birthday, June 15, 1980, a truly amazing day. And I can still taste the food there, 40 years later! The marinated shrimp and the dacquoise, but especially the pear-and-chocolate tart. I’ve been hoping to find a recipe for it ever since, but so far haven’t. Can you help? Thank you.

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