March 14 (Bloomberg) -- Gramercy Tavern has become ordinary, dated and even -- most unexpectedly -- careless.

I'm not certain why it should matter so much. To me, it does.

Others seem not to have noticed. Try getting a reservation before 9:30 p.m. or a seat in the bar area without standing around for an hour or more. In the 2007 Zagat Survey, Danny Meyer's Flatiron benchmark is rated, as usual, the most popular restaurant in New York City.

Former chef Tom Colicchio had the knack of making simple food vivid. New chef Michael Anthony makes complicated food uninteresting.

His cuisine is colorful. He endeavors to be daring. Disturbingly, both recipes and execution fall short.

One of my guests, more intellectual than I, called it a failure of ambition. The flaws are not always major, but they are persistent.

Why blame only Anthony for the decline? There's the service, too.

The waiters are overtrained: They almost pant. At the same time they're undersupervised: They gawk. They interrupt. They rush.

What remains as good as ever is the cheese plate, served with (this is a captain's description) an ``oozing puddle of honey.''

That's the same fellow who observed me passing my dried-out, soggy-skinned suckling pig to a fellow diner -- I wanted to corroborate its absence of redeeming qualities -- and leaned in to comment, ``Switcheroo.''

Losing Hope

I ate in the main dining room three times, nibbled twice in the tavern. Eventually, the power of pessimism prevailed. I even started disliking the way this most beloved of establishments looks.

The crowded bar area -- referred to as ``the tavern'' even though the entire place is supposedly a tavern -- is somewhat banged up. The scuffs and dents in the woodwork are intended to be atmospheric. When I pay $16 for a pulled-pork sandwich that would be $3 in North Carolina, or $17 for one meatball with potato puree, I want to believe that workmen are sanding the furnishings day and night.

The tavern food is rustic without being homey. That pulled pork is properly soft in texture, but barbecue sauce is all you taste. The meat comes on a warm roll that's first-rate, superior to the tough, cold rolls that accompany the dinner in the main dining area.

Dull Surprise

That meatball is dumb. It's stuffed with a chunk of fontina cheese, hardly a surprise to elicit shrieks of pleasure.

The tavern's sensual banana-cream tart, made with a chocolate-lined pastry crust, should not be missed. It's what every variation on banana cream pie should aspire to be.

The main dining room, home to a $76 fixed-price, three- course meal, is actually a series of small rooms that look more tavernlike than the so-called tavern. The lovely aroma of wood- smoke hangs in the air, a signature of the restaurant.

The Americana look, so charming in the early days of Gramercy, now appears passe rather than old-fashioned. Don't brocade banquettes seem very '80s? And the decor is unsuitable to the new chef's cuisine. Does an appetizer of tuna-tartare cubes with sunchokes, radishes and beets say Continental Congress to you?

One of the Colonial-style rooms has hacienda touches, evoking not Ben Franklin in his parlor but Zorro swinging from wrought-iron chandeliers. I didn't feel that way back when the food engrossed me.

Woodsy Decor

A couple of other rooms have 3-D forest scenes, museumlike dioramas complete with cherry-wood limbs, tree mushrooms and pine cones. I peered in, hoping for stuffed squirrels. (A spring revision is supposedly imminent.)

For more than a decade, Gramercy Tavern has flawlessly represented unfussy but classy New York dining. No more. Rolls hit the plate with a thud. Tiny dishes holding pats of butter land on the base of wine glasses, rattling around. Sparkling water isn't poured -- it's upended into your glass. One server held a bottle upside down, as if he were emptying dregs of wine into a kitchen sink.

The only touch of lavishness is an amuse bouche of fluke tartare, but it's just a teaspoonful, an exceedingly small measure of generosity. Three visits, three fluke tartares on three plain metal spoons.

No Sommelier

The wine list, once among the most appealing and well-priced in the city, is now downright expensive. Try finding something interesting in the $40-$80 range. No sommelier will stop by. There isn't one. A beverage director is available for emergencies, and the captains are trained to discuss wine and eager to answer questions. The catch is that you're likely to end up with a bottle they like, not one you like.

You might enjoy a glass of the unexpectedly complex 2004 Auther pinot gris, a French white. Don't miss the 2003 Lehrner Blaufrankisch, an Austrian red, easily the bargain of the list at $29 a bottle.

The restaurant has no human presence, just a plethora of people carrying plates. No maitre d' is on hand to add personality. The chef makes few appearances in the dining room. The place seems to trundle along.

Pastry chef Nancy Olson's desserts are fine, almost certainly because they're simpler than the savories. The small, soft, fluffy chocolate bread pudding is memorable, although not the anise ice cream with it. The apple tart is explosively flavorful, and it comes with ice cream overstuffed with salty pecans.

I never left hungry, but I always left unsatisfied.

Pork Letdown

It seems unkind to catalog the unsatisfactory courses, but here goes: the suckling pig, notably. Next, the loin of pork, one time tough, a second time spongy. Inasmuch as Anthony came to Gramercy Tavern from Blue Hill at Stone Barns, where pig is venerated above all beasts, problems with pork were surely unforeseen.

Weirdly, almost anything green is nearly tasteless: broccoli soup (topped by standard sweetbreads), pistachio vinaigrette (accenting a too-cold lobster salad), parsley sauce (with roasted oysters that don't taste roasted), escarole puree (under a delicate crab ravioli that disintegrates when touched by a fork).

Squash tortellini, described as light by our waiter, were impossibly clunky, chain-restaurant caliber.

Poached halibut was mushy. Smoked lobster was tough.

Beef Was Best

Triumphs were nonexistent. Closest was the combination of flat-iron steak (an excellent cut of chuck) and braised beef (succulent if overcooked) accompanied by fabulously fluffy souffled potato puffs. Venison was too mild for me but praised by a German at my table, and it's hard to receive a better endorsement than that.

When Gramercy Tavern opened in 1994, the city cheered. The cover of New York magazine depicted four gold stars and asked, in bold black type an inch high: ``The Next Great Restaurant?''

It soon earned an unsurpassed and merited reputation for excellence. While never the most spectacular fine-dining destination, the tavern was always the most hospitable. Dinner at Gramercy was a sure thing.

These days there is little to applaud. Above all else, I appreciated the superb little crumb cakes that are distributed tableside, a thoughtful going-home gift for each guest.

Have yours the next morning, warmed up. They are Gramercy Tavern's madeleines, helping you remember better days.

The Bloomberg Questions

Cost? The three-course (no coffee) fixed-price menu is $76, the tasting menu $98.

Sound level? Hushed conversations from a well-mannered clientele envelop you. You speak softly to a loved one. And then your waiter jumps in, loud and unannounced, shattering the mood.

Date place? One of New York's most coveted.

Inside tip? Don't plan on bellying up to the bar for a drink before dinner; it has become an overrun dining area.

Special Feature? Sweet wines by the glass are the stars of the list.

Lunch? Yes.

Will I be back? Only in my memories.

Gramercy Tavern is at 42 E. 20th St. Information: +1-212-477-0777 or http://www.gramercytavern.com.

(Alan Richman is a restaurant critic for Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed are his own.)

To contact the writer of this story: Alan Richman at thecritic@optonline.net.

Last Updated: March 14, 2007 00:07 EDT