Like Bill Murray in "Groundhog Day," Sardi's is trapped in the past. Formerly a canteen for celebrities, producers and the people who write about them, today it is largely an eat-and-run novelty act for the theater bus crowd. But the faded romance of the place remains in the war-weary uniformed waiters, expansive see-and-be-seen dining room, liberally pouring veteran bartenders and colorful celebrity portraits on the walls.

The Food
Some of the house specials have languished on stage since before the debut of "Guys and Dolls." The stuffed cannelloni (veal, beef or sausage) is so heavy it takes one of the brawny younger staffers to haul it out; an anemic antipasti plate holds tasteless, icy peeled shrimp and sandy arugula. Stick to the simplest entrees, such as rotisserie roasted chicken or grilled filet mignon. And do not leave without tasting the single worthwhile gastronomic attraction: a hulking meringue-encrusted baked Alaska.