May 13 (Bloomberg) -- Graydon Carter, editor at Vanity Fair and annual ringmaster at Hollywood’s most exclusive Oscar party, has taken over Manhattan’s famed Monkey Bar. That’s why A- listers and alcohol are the main event, and why food is a simian sideshow.

In other words, Monkey Bar is just like it used to be.

Yellow primate murals still line the bar up front. Celebrity caricatures cover the dining room in back. Couples canoodle in corner booths. And the bartender, in a ridiculous cruise-ship-style uniform, makes you an $18 tequila mojito.

It expertly evokes $10 versions elsewhere.

Things are pricier than they were in the 1930s, when Monkey Bar first debuted in Midtown’s Hotel Elysee. Marlon Brando, Ava Gardner, Fred Astaire and Tennessee Williams were said to be regulars.

The stars have returned. Last Wednesday, “When Harry Met Sally” writer Nora Ephron approached our table. She asked what we were eating. Oysters Rockefeller -- metallic-tasting, with breadcrumbs that mimicked the texture of sand.

Did Ephron have “Nora’s Meatloaf?” The $19 creation was moist and mushroomy. The price seems expensive until you sip your $18 champagne cocktail.

That drink is good: A bitters-soaked sugar cube usually sits at the bottom of the flute; mine was crushed by the bartender, resulting in a more uniformly flavored libation.

Charlie Rose dropped by for dinner too. The TV host walked past our table in the center of the dining room (where the non- VIPs sit) and escaped to the raised level where the celebrities hide -- behind pillars and hazy lighting.

And then there was Carter -- dapper and equipped with a silver, aerodynamic pompadour.

Waiter?

The staff knows who’s important. They’re quick to move your bag if it’s blocking the celebrity walkway, yet slow to clear your table. Dirty plates lingered even after our check was paid.

My well-connected dining companion had made our prime-time reservation through contacts -- the preferred method of booking tables at Carter’s duo of semi-public social clubs.

There’s Waverly Inn, which has a phone; they just don’t pick it up -- walking in is your best shot. And then there’s the more democratic Monkey Bar: Plebeians can call to book tables at inconvenient hours.

Monkey Bar meals begin with monkey bread -- but the savory riff has no cinnamon. The pull-apart, biscuit-like dough is an appetizer in itself. It’s the highlight of your meal. Not so the beef tartare, loaded with such an assertive tang one wonders whether it’s been sitting in ketchup for 48 hours.

Not McNally

This is what separates Carter from Keith McNally, another restaurateur famous for his VIP reservation line. At McNally venues like Minetta Tavern, impressive food justifies the A-list scene. At Monkey Bar, the scene tries to lure you away from the uneven cuisine, often with a strong dose of perfume from the ladies one table over. Otherwise you might detect the stench of the clams casino. The bivalves, bacony and briny, lay atop a bed of hot seaweed. Smelled like low tide.

The chef is Elliot Ketley, formerly of Soho House, whose restaurant only admits club members and their guests. Carter likes a history of privacy.

So let me inject a little transparency.

Sweet corn kernels pushed the sweetness of overcooked, under-seared scallops to cloying extremes. Hanger steak was gorgeous and rare, yet lacking the appropriate char.

Grocery Goods

Restaurant chili should exhibit tender, braised beef. The ground-meat version here evoked a high-quality canned variety. Gazpacho resembled a freshly poured glass of V8, only chunkier. (The vegetable peels lodge between your teeth).

Does Ketley hate salt? A bland burger didn’t appear to have any. Good luck finding a server to bring you some. Cream and brandy didn’t overwhelm the silky, just-cooked-through Lobster Newburg; the dish just needed a bit of sodium. Kedgeree, a British hangover meal of rice and fish, is a meal in itself. Now add some salt.

Here’s the ideal dinner: monkey bread, oysters (pre-salted via the ocean) and foie gras soldiers. Dip the liver-coated toast points in egg yolk, combining two of the richest known edible foods. A hint of genius. Just a hint.

Rating: *

The Bloomberg Questions

Cost? Most dishes under $30.

Sound level? Noisy -- so you can see the celebrities but you won’t overhear their conversations. Very clever.

Date place? Yes, the bar is dark and discreet.

Inside tip? Martinis are properly stirred and vermouthed.

Special feature? Try the excellent sticky toffee pudding.

Private room? No.

Will I be back? For the champagne cocktail.

Monkey Bar is at 60 E. 54th St., near Park Avenue. Information: +1-212-308-2950; http://www.elyseehotel.com.

What the Stars Mean:

****         Incomparable food, service, ambience.
***          First-class of its kind.
**           Good, reliable.
*            Fair.
No stars     Poor.

(Ryan Sutton writes about New York City restaurants for Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed are his own.)

To contact the writer of this column: Ryan Sutton in New York at rsutton1@bloomberg.net.

Last Updated: May 13, 2009 00:01 EDT