How long has The Old Warsaw graced Uptown with its dowdy presence? Seems like about 50 years—an impression apparently confirmed by their film noir, supper club, Father Knows Best, Mad Men (or pick your favorite cliché) menu.

This is a somber place, full of white tablecloths and roaming chamber orchestras. It’s also a proper place, where wait staff treat you with the stand off-ish formality of welcome strangers…well, perhaps regulars earn something warmer; we’ve never met anyone of that ilk, though. Simply put, The Old Warsaw is where you can experience the culinary past, laid on to the fullest. Lobster comes in bisque, crêpes, or tail. Cold vodka accompanies caviar with all the trimmings. There’s roasted duck, Chateaubriand, and Dover sole. Starters include now prosaic (but then sophisticated) oysters and Champagne or salmon with capers.

There’s nothing nouveau or fusion, locavore or excruciatingly trendy here. The room can feel dim or old fashioned, the cooking by rote—as if from a Julia Child-era cookbook. To some, this can be stifling. And in many ways, food service seems trite and out of place. But the steady reminder of a restaurant has earned just enough of a following to suggest there is a place for The Old Warsaw in a fusion world.