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.
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.
Catherine, alas, I don’t know of the tart. It wasn’t being served by the time I showed up. I would try reaching out to Nick Malgeri, one of the pastry chefs at WOW.
Thank you for such a Spot On memory of the Hors d’ Oeuvrerie. I worked there in 1987 working the dreaded breakfast shifts in order to work the coveted evenings. I was always impressed at the professional standards that were followed by so many people, and such an international staff. A real joy and privilege to work there. The Dacquoise was a treat that I took advantage of almost daily.
Vincent, it’s so good to hear from you! And I’m delighted that this post reconnected us after 31 years. Such great memories with you, Brett, Judy, Lori, Sam, Carrie–and that scary garde manger, who keep threatening our private parts with his clever whenever got too close to his station!
Interesting observations and subsequent comments. I worked at WOW 1983-1986, as a steward then running 106 floor stockroom/cafeteria. Bill Johnson, I definitely remember you, and Lou Symos as well, and of course Kevin Zraly-as I remember, Lou and Kevin shared an office area and secretary. Interestingly enough, in 1992 I joined the Port Authority Police and was assigned to the WTC. After the 1993 bombing I was part of the crew assigned to recovering Wilfredo Mercado’s body from the rubble and spent many days driving his wife from home to the WTC and back. I lost two very close friends, and about 30 friends and coworkers in all on 9/11. I still have dreams to this day of working at WOW, some of my fondest memories are of my days in the WTC, and just can’t bring myself to go back down there.
John, thanks for chiming in. I, too, dream of WOW and the people I met there. (A chapter in my memoir is devoted to Windows.) And I also can’t get myself down to the site. My publisher is three blocks and away on Broadway, and I always come and go on the eastern side of their building. The closest I ever got was the Oculus. I simply can’t go to the memorial or see the footprints.