The World Trade Center Windows of the World: What Most People Forget

The World Trade Center Windows of the World: What Most People Forget

It wasn't just a restaurant. Honestly, if you talk to anyone who lived in New York during the nineties, they’ll tell you the World Trade Center Windows of the World was basically the center of the universe for a certain kind of person. It sat up there on the 106th and 107th floors of the North Tower. One flight of stairs. That’s all that separated the diners from the roof.

The view? Unreal.

On a clear day, you could see the curvature of the earth. You’d look down and see helicopters—actual helicopters—flying below you. It made you feel like you owned the city, even if you were just there for a corporate lunch or a high-end wedding. But for all the glitz, there was something kind of gritty and real about the operation behind the scenes. It was a massive machine.

Why the World Trade Center Windows of the World mattered

Joe Baum was the visionary behind it. If you don't know the name, he’s the guy who basically invented themed dining and high-concept luxury in New York. When the towers were being built in the early 70s, people thought they were hideous. Total eyesores. The Port Authority needed a way to make the North Tower "cool," or at least palatable to the elite.

Enter Windows.

It opened in 1976 and instantly changed the game. It wasn't just one room. You had the Main Dining Room, sure, but then there was the Greatest Bar on Earth. That place was legendary. It was less formal, loud, and served these incredibly stiff drinks. People would crowd in there just to watch the fog roll in over the Hudson River.

The restaurant was a massive revenue generator. By the year 2000, it was the highest-grossing restaurant in the entire United States. We’re talking $37 million in annual revenue. That’s a staggering number when you realize they had to elevator every single steak, every bottle of wine, and every linen napkin up over a thousand feet.

The sheer logistics of dining in the sky

Think about the plumbing. Seriously.

Running a kitchen at 1,300 feet is a nightmare. The water pressure alone required a complex series of pumps. If a fridge broke, you couldn't just have a repairman swing by in fifteen minutes. Everything was scheduled. Everything was vertical.

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The staff was a microcosm of New York. You had immigrants from over 30 different countries working the line, many of them members of the Hotel Trades Council and Local 100. They weren't just employees; they were a family. They had their own cafeteria. They had their own culture. When you’re that high up, separated from the rest of the world by a three-minute elevator ride, you bond.

The wine cellar in the clouds

Kevin Zraly is the name you need to know here. He was the wine director, hired when he was incredibly young, and he turned the restaurant into a global destination for oenophiles. He started the Windows on the World Wine School.

It wasn't stuffy.

Zraly’s whole vibe was making wine accessible. He’d tell people to stop overthinking it. But behind that casual attitude was one of the most sophisticated wine programs ever built. At any given time, the cellar held tens of thousands of bottles.

During the 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center, the restaurant actually took a hit. Not physically in terms of the structure on the 107th floor, but the infrastructure. The restaurant had to close for years. When it reopened in 1996, it was even better. They spent something like $25 million on the renovation. It was plusher, the bar was more vibrant, and the "Cellar in the Sky" became a focused, multi-course gastronomic experience that rivaled anything in Paris.

What the critics actually thought

Not everyone loved the food.

If you read the old New York Times reviews, critics like Ruth Reichl or Gael Greene were sometimes lukewarm on the menu. They’d say the food was "good, not great," or that it couldn't compete with the view. It’s hard to compete with the Atlantic Ocean, you know?

But that’s missing the point. You didn't go to the World Trade Center Windows of the World just for the turbot. You went for the feeling. You went because when the sun set and the lights of Manhattan started flickering on like a circuit board, there was nowhere else on the planet that felt as alive.

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The morning of September 11

It’s impossible to talk about this place without the weight of how it ended. On the morning of September 11, 2001, there was a breakfast conference going on—the Risk Waters Financial Technology Congress.

There were also staff members there getting ready for the lunch rush.

When the plane hit the North Tower at 8:46 AM, it struck between floors 93 and 99. Everyone in the restaurant was trapped. There was no way down. The stairwells were severed or filled with smoke.

We know a lot about those final moments because of the phone calls. People called their families. They called 911. They showed incredible grace under pressure. Glenn Vogt, the general manager at the time, wasn't in the building yet because he had taken his son to his first day of school. That’s the kind of random chance that defines the stories of that day.

72 restaurant employees died.

73 guests who were attending the conference died.

It was a staggering loss for the hospitality industry. For years afterward, the "Windows family" of survivors and former employees struggled to find their footing.

The legacy: Colors and the aftermath

After the towers fell, the restaurant world didn't just move on.

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A group of former employees and supporters opened a restaurant called Colors in downtown Manhattan. The idea was to create a place that honored the diversity and the spirit of the original staff. It was a co-op model. It faced a lot of hurdles—New York real estate is brutal—but it stood as a symbol of resilience.

Kevin Zraly continued the Wine School. He moved it to different locations, but he kept the name. He’s written books that are basically the Bible for anyone trying to pass a sommelier exam today. If you buy a copy of Windows on the World Complete Wine Course, you’re holding a piece of that history.

Does anything like it exist today?

People ask if Peak at Hudson Yards or Saga at 70 Pine Street are the "new" Windows.

Honestly? No.

They’re beautiful. The food is probably technically better. But the World Trade Center was different. It was a city within a city. It was the tallest point in the most important city in the world at a time when the world felt a little more certain.

How to honor the history today

If you want to actually connect with the history of the World Trade Center Windows of the World, don't just look at old photos. Do these things instead:

  • Visit the 9/11 Memorial & Museum: They have specific artifacts from the restaurant, including menus and napkins that survived the collapse. Seeing a physical menu with prices for a "Power Lunch" from 2001 is a visceral experience.
  • Read "The Big Oyster" by Mark Kurlansky: He talks about the history of New York through its food, and while it's not just about Windows, it gives you the context of why a restaurant in the sky mattered so much to the city's identity.
  • Support the ROC (Restoration Opportunities Center): This organization grew out of the needs of the workers who survived and continues to fight for the rights of restaurant workers today.
  • Buy the Wine Book: Seriously, Kevin Zraly’s Windows on the World Complete Wine Course is updated annually. It’s the most practical way to keep the spirit of the restaurant’s educational mission alive.

The restaurant is gone, but the way it defined "New York Glamour" still sets the bar. It was a place where a dishwasher from Ecuador and a CEO from Goldman Sachs shared the same elevator and the same incredible view. That’s the real New York. That was the real Windows.

To truly understand the impact, you have to look at the numbers: 107 floors up, 2,000 customers a day, and a legacy that has lasted over twenty years since the doors last closed. It wasn't just a place to eat; it was the summit of the city.

For those looking to explore the culinary history of New York further, researching the "Baum & Whiteman" archives provides a deep dive into how these massive hospitality projects were engineered. You can also find archived versions of the original menus through the New York Public Library’s digital collections, which offer a fascinating look at the gastronomy of the era, from classic French techniques to the "New American" fusion that started taking over in the late nineties. Supporting modern-day worker cooperatives in the culinary space remains the most direct way to honor the diverse staff that made the restaurant what it was.