Sept. 13 (Bloomberg) -- That the Time Warner Center is merely a mall is no longer in doubt.

Like all malls, it has a chain grocery (Whole Foods), a chain book store (Borders) and a predictable assortment of retail outlets. Those of us who were initially dazzled by the cost ($1.7 billion), the size (2.8 million square feet) and the cladding (weirdly indefinable) now understand that it is nothing more.

If additional proof is needed, one need only note that two shiny Lincolns are parked inside on the ground floor. Where else does one find such a display, except in dealer showrooms and in malls?

The restaurants remain singular. Without them, it is hard to imagine anybody caring about the center, other than those who have invested tens of millions in one of the condos soaring overhead. Of the restaurants in business in late 2004, when the center opened, the steakhouse V is gone, driven away by ridicule. Its replacement, a steakhouse called Porter House New York, will open soon.

Per Se, which is top-tier Thomas Keller, is the bedrock of the building. He also operates Bouchon Bakery, which offers everything you might want from a bakery, except bread. Masa is possibly the most expensive sushi restaurant in America, although I suspect that Japanese industrialists have access to secret spots that charge even more. Cafe Gray celebrates the return of Gray Kunz, a top-tier chef offering informality at a price, in this case dinner entrees starting at $33.

Bouchon Bakery and Cafe Gray are on the third floor, which Samsung, the electronics giant, has usurped. A monstrous ``Samsung'' sign hangs from the ceiling, looming over Bouchon's cafe like a dirigible over an NFL football field. Masa and Per Se are on the fourth floor, which is not quite as grim as before. A cash machine that was once the primary design feature is no longer in sight, and it's astounding how greatly that has improved the ambience.

Masa's Counter

Masa is sweet. The shaved-head chef, Masa Takayama, increasingly Spartan as the years pass, stands behind the counter. On my last visit, just after Labor Day, he seemed to be wearing hospital scrubs, although his were white.

The counter is sanded. Service is deft. An exhaust fan hums gently. Jazz is set at a level only a dolphin could discern. The place is so circumspect that should you choose to dine at a table, you will have virtually no semblance of a restaurant experience, other than your food being brought to you.

No Sushi Disasters

Masa isn't the most creative chef, but at least you won't have to worry about eating dynamite rolls or similar sushi calamities. The $350, fixed-price meal consists of four or five starters, 20 to 25 pieces of sushi and a few desserts of so little substance that a chunk of Asian pear is the only one I recall.

One of Masa's signature dishes I do not admire is foie gras shabu shabu. On my recent visit, it had changed for the better. Eel wrapped in shredded cucumber is dipped into hot kombu (kelp) broth for a few seconds to cook, then into cold cucumber vinaigrette. As a second course, the cucumber vinaigrette is poured into the broth and the combination eaten as soup. Perfect.

Sushi is prepared Edo-style -- the fish placed on warm rice, then brushed with sauce. Masa knows that Americans can never get enough toro, or fatty tuna, and he's lavish with it. You get it with caviar (great), as sushi (great), in a cut roll (great) and grilled (even better). The grilled toro is topped with greenery, a little sauce and a few drops of sudachi, a Japanese citrus.

The single drawback to the Masa counter is that your serenity might be shattered, as was mine, by the arrival of wealthy young Americans loudly discussing their summer vacations. (``The Ritz? I'm not staying there anymore. I'm tired of that place!'')

Your only recourse is to become pals with them, which I did. They had no qualms about badgering Masa with questions. Had they not done so, I would not have learned what Masa did on his summer vacation: fish, cook, visit friends. There you have it, the secret life of a sushi chef.

Keller's Bakery

Bouchon Bakery is peculiar. I tried a couple of gorgeous- looking breakfast items, a $2.75 croissant that was neither buttery nor flaky and a heavyweight $2.95 chocolate croissant that was a clunker, too. I was informed that all baking is done on the second floor, but it's hard to imagine commercial ovens roaring away down there.

I had one lunch and one dinner in the bakery's cafe, and I recommend eating early. The food got worse after dark. Another drawback to evening dining is that wine is poured into water glasses, which diminishes the pleasure.

A lot of the food is good. This is Keller, after all. The salads have terrific greens and good (if often sweet) dressings. The foie gras terrine is tasty and generous, although it should be served with brioche instead of baguette. (He has both on hand.) The chicken soup is dense with flavor and boasts creamy, rigatoni-shaped dumplings that might be the Time Warner Center's freshest-tasting food item. The lemon tart is masterful.

Kunz's Cafe

Cafe Gray is a relief. It's conventional. It's also notorious because the designer, David Rockwell, put cooks instead of customers in front of the windows. He raised the dining area 3 feet to improve sightlines -- and it's not like the view is blocked. Think of it as a take on Mystery Science Theater 3000, the TV show where the heads of wise-cracking robots blocked the bottom of the screen.

If there's anything odd about the decor, it's the disco- fever, mirrors-and-glitter look. In spite of design issues, Cafe Gray is a successful restaurant, partly because prosperous locals appear to have adopted it as their hangout.

The food could use fewer complications, but it's still Kunz. Only an ingrate would complain that pickled ramps, Asian pears and hazelnuts overwhelm foie gras and quail. The fish is lovely. So are the short ribs. So is the sight of Kunz back at the stove after five or six years.

Keller's Per Se

My lunch at Per Se was at 2 p.m. I was lucky to get in at all. On my first attempt at a reservation, I gave up after 115 busy signals. I then had a friend do it for me in exchange for a meal at my expense.

The trouble with such a late lunch is that Per Se offers either seven or nine courses -- there is no a la carte -- and the staff seems pressured to get the room cleared well before the dinner crowd starts banging on the door. My first course arrived before I had time to select a wine, and I slurped the cold red- pepper consomme with the wine list sitting in my lap. The soup wasn't so great that I cared.

Flawed Service

Wine service continued to be abysmal. The sommelier's long description of a white wine didn't sound quite right, so I asked him if he'd tasted it. He said he had not. I asked his opinion of a couple of $70-and-under Australian reds I was considering for my second wine. He suggested a $205 Australian pinot noir instead. The only appropriate response to that would have been to beat him to death.

Notwithstanding the wine fiasco, Per Se is generally a highly professional restaurant. The price -- $210 per person for food -- is not unreasonable. Service is eager and bountiful. Tables are spacious, although the chairs could use more cushioning, considering the duration of meals. Keller's cuisine is extraordinary both in concept and execution. Still, I have never warmed to the place.

My feelings are mostly motivated by the blandness of the experience -- everything but the food dismays me. As my friend said, ``Would it kill them to buy a painting?'' There are torchiere lamps (with, oddly enough, laundry markings on the shades in tribute to Keller's beloved French Laundry). The carpeting evokes giraffes. Wooden objects resembling warped kayak paddles hang in the rear.

Waiting for Joan Baez

The fireplace has never burned wood in my presence, although our waiter assured me that after early problems it is functional, and nine different woods are regularly fed to the flames. On this visit, candles were alight in the fireplace, a nice '60s touch. I was waiting for Joan Baez to appear and sing ``Kumbaya.''

Like lobsters entering a trap, guests are funneled toward the two nine-course tasting menus. One is vegetarian, one is called the chef's menu. The old option of a five-course menu with many choices is no more.

Vegetable-wise, I was impressed mostly by Keller's brilliant use of melons compressed to extra sweetness using Cryovac technology. Still, I have to say that after five or six helpings of fruits and veggies, the body wearies of so much health. I nearly wept with envy at seeing braised rabbit and then grilled rib-eye on my friend's plate. I was eating corn.

Keller is responsible for one bit of benevolence. The Time Warner Center used to have soft, white lounge chairs scattered about. Now they are gone. He's filled the gap with a cute little faux-garden, just outside the door of Per Se. It has flowers and benches, and it's a lovely spot to relax and spend the day with your cell phone, redialing Per Se's reservation line.

The Bloomberg Questions

How much? Prices range from $9.75 for a cashew-butter and apricot-jam sandwich at Bouchon Bakery cafe to $350 for the fixed-price menu at Masa.

Sound level? Muted everywhere but at Bouchon Bakery cafe, where customers and music loudly battle for primacy.

Date place? Per Se, no; Bouchon Bakery, no; Masa would be OK at a table, but you really want to be at the counter; Cafe Gray, yes, particularly in the bar.

Tip: Do not mistakenly think Bar Masa is an affordable version of Masa. It's a mediocre restaurant all its own.

Special feature? The bar at Cafe Gray is surprisingly cozy, a warm spot within the glitz. Beware the over-cumined bar crackers.

Lunch? Yes, at all.

Will I be back? To Masa when I can afford it, and to Cafe Gray when I live in one of the $25 million condos high above.

Information: Time Warner Center, 10 Columbus Circle, (1)(212) 823-6000; http://www.shopsatcolumbuscircle.com. Cafe Gray, (1)(212) 823-6338; http://www.cafegray.com. Masa, (1)(212) 823-9800; http://www.masanyc.com. Bouchon Bakery, (1)(212) 823-9364; http://www.bouchonbakery.com. Per Se, (1)(212) 823-9335; http://www.perseny.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: September 13, 2006 00:14 EDT