In a column entitled, "Cavern on the green: Shame of famous eatery's dark decay," Mr. Cuozzo writes:

Nearly four months since Tavern on the Green went dark, there's no telling when maybe new license-holder Dean Poll will reopen the landmark Central Park eatery.

The historic buildings, shorn of their crystal and brass, are rotting by the week. Meanwhile, Poll's Boathouse Café, just north, snatches up Tavern's exiled customers.

Isn't this nuts? Sources say Mayor Bloomberg is fed up with the shambles, but it's entirely of his own making. He and the Parks Department decided previous Tavern operator Jennifer LeRoy had to go, whether or not it made sense.

In February, The Observer wrote about the Tavern imbroglio:

[Wh]ile a new owner and the restaurant workers' union negotiate a fresh agreement for the concession to reopen, Tavern on the Green sits dark. The detritus of disuse accrues, and quickly: the candy wrapper litter, the overturned patio furniture, the abandoned motorcycle behind the unlocked gates.

Nothing has apparently changed. As Mr. Cuozzo notes, "[T]here'll be no Mother's Day in the Crystal Room, no dancing in the beautiful garden."

How sad.

drubinstein@observer.com

“Because the undisputed facts show that the city established and continuously maintained a restaurant under the name ‘Tavern on the Green’ at the same location in New York’s Central Park since 1934, the city has a protectable interest in that name,” [Judge] Cedarbaum wrote.

The name has been estimated to be worth $19 million.

This is good news for Dean Poll, the operator of the Central Park Boathouse, who last year cemented his control of Central Park's culinary scene by vanquishing the former operators, the LeRoy family, in the race for the Tavern's concession rights. Tavern on the Green has, in the past, been ranked one of the highest revenue-generating restaurants in the country.

The transition between owners has not been smooth. Indeed, Tavern has sat empty ever since the LeRoys departed in February. And Mr. Poll, who is busy negotiating with the restaurant staff's union, has yet to formally sign a contract with the city.

The LeRoys could not immediately be reached for comment.

Update 2:54 p.m.

The city, through its corporation counsel office, released a statement about its win:

New York, March 10, 2010 - A federal judge today affirmed New York City's claim to the renowned "Tavern on the Green" name, ending a trademark dispute with the restaurants' former operators -- the LeRoy family -- over rights to the name. The decision cancels Warner LeRoy's registration of the name as a trademark on grounds of fraud, and states that LeRoy engaged in a deliberate attempt to mislead the Patent and Trademark Office. The City now has the right to continue to use the "Tavern on the Green" name for the storied restaurant. 

"We applaud the court's decision to recognize the city's right to the name 'Tavern on the Green,' which was first bestowed upon the landmark restaurant by Parks Commissioner Robert Moses in 1934," said Parks & Recreation Commissioner Adrian Benepe. "With new operator Dean Poll, we look forward to continuing this fine dining experience in one of the city's most historic and bucolic settings for years to come." 

The city chose the name and each concessionaire and made significant investments to ensure the success of the restaurant - such that 'Tavern on the Green' was closely associated in the public mind with a building owned by the City and located in New York's Central Park."

In October 2009, the City and the LeRoy family filed dueling trademark claims in the Bankruptcy Court, with each party claiming exclusive ownership to the "Tavern on the Green" name as a trademark for restaurant services. The City - as the long-time property owner of the landmark location - claims ownership of the name by reason of the continuing operation of the restaurant in Central Park, by a series of a series of different concessionaires, including the LeRoys under the "Tavern" name, beginning in 1934.

The City had not been aware that the LeRoys had obtained a federal registration for the name. The LeRoy family operated the restaurant under a license agreement with the City that commenced in 1973 and expired at the end of 2009. The LeRoy companies filed for bankruptcy after the City selected restaurateur Dean J. Poll for a new license to operate the restaurant for the next 20 years.   

In December 2009, the City successfully petitioned to have the trademark dispute heard by the U. S. District Court for the Southern District instead of the bankruptcy court because of the complicated nature of the issues involved in the dispute. The District Court only rarely exercises it power to hear matters that are pending in the bankruptcy court. The District Court also agreed to hear the case and issue a decision on an expedited basis, which is also unusual.  

The district court proceeding was handled by Gerald Singleton, Senior IP Counsel. Howard Friedman, Deputy Chief, Contracts & Real Estate supervised the City's overall efforts. Other members of the team Katherine Winningham (Senior IP Counsel), Gabriela Cacuci (Senior Bankruptcy Counsel), Rita Dumain (Chief, Tax and Bankruptcy Litigation). 

New York City and one of the largest public law offices in the country.  Tracing its roots back to the 1600's, the Department has an active caseload of 90,000 matters and transactions in 17 legal divisions.  The Corporation Counsel heads the Law Department and acts as legal counsel for the Mayor, elected officials, the City and all its agencies.  The Department's 650 attorneys represent the City on a vast array of civil litigation, legislative and legal issues and in the criminal prosecution of juveniles. 

drubinstein@observer.com

[CEO Jennifer] LeRoy is teaming up with party promoters to close the doors in style. The restaurant on Tuesday announced its plans to "fulfill any New Year's fantasy" with a bash that includes an open bar from 10 p.m. until 4 a.m.; a dinner buffet where guests can nosh on everything from Italian charcuterie, veal and mini burgers to various pastas and desserts; and two surprise DJs spinning house, hip-hop and rock music. Party planners also promise a view of the fireworks in Central Park.

Basic admission goes for $125, while revelers willing to shell out $250 can get seated VIP tables with bottle service.

The celebration is bound to be more about feting the past than anticipating the future for LeRoy. Her father opened the restaurant in 1976, but it's changing hands next year after a drawn-out bidding process and Chapter 11 protection.

We were seated at a small table near the center of the famous Crystal Room at Tavern on the Green, the largest and most scenic of all six separate dining areas within the sprawling 25,000-square-foot restaurant in Central Park.

The vast, 380-seat space is bathed in bright pastels and bizarrely juxtaposed floral carpeting and upholstery, flooded with light from floor-to-ceiling windows and all blinged out with a dozen or so shimmering chandeliers, including an Austrian-made emerald centerpiece believed to have once belonged to the Maharaja of Udaipur.

“It’s just such an assault on all your senses,” my discerning wife, Heather, said over brunch on Sunday afternoon, Feb. 15.

We were seated at a small table near the center of the famous Crystal Room at Tavern on the Green, the largest and most scenic of all six separate dining areas within the sprawling 25,000-square-foot restaurant in Central Park.

The vast, 380-seat space is bathed in bright pastels and bizarrely juxtaposed floral carpeting and upholstery, flooded with light from floor-to-ceiling windows and all blinged out with a dozen or so shimmering chandeliers, including an Austrian-made emerald centerpiece believed to have once belonged to the Maharaja of Udaipur. An expansive mural above the entrance depicts winged ponies and castles among the clouds.

It was the same spot where she was sitting nearly 17 years ago, a doe-eyed teenager from Ohio, dining with her grandparents, on her first trip to New York.

The place remained very much the way she remembered it, overwhelmingly ornate and still bustling with wide-eyed youngsters and their wiser elders from out of town. (An estimated half-million or more visit each year.)

It just looked older. Much older.

“It reminds me of Mrs. Havisham in Great Expectations, the grande dame who’s seen better days,” my perceptive spouse said, noting the fraying pink tablecloth covering our sloppily bussed table, which was strewn with stray bread crumbs and specs of black pepper. “It seems a little worn around the edges.”

The service, meanwhile, seemed remarkably indifferent. When we complained about the large triangular gap in window shading, which cast a blinding beam of afternoon light directly at our table, and politely suggested that something be done about it, our crusty career waiter, dressed in a black suit and pink-and-green-striped bow tie, barely shrugged: “I’ve been advocating for that for 10 years now.”

The illustrious Tavern has undoubtedly lost some of its swagger in the more than three decades since the legendary restaurateur Warner LeRoy took it over.

“It will feel like dining inside a wedding cake,” the flamboyant LeRoy had told his own wife, Kay, after acquiring the license to operate the historic city-owned building back in 1973, and embarking on a flashy $10 million renovation (a moment recalled in Ms. LeRoy’s new cookbook, Tavern on The Green: 125 Recipes for Good Times).

How it will feel a year from now is anybody’s guess.

THE CITY'S long-standing contract with the late LeRoy’s family will expire at the end of 2009, and parks officials are clamoring for a massive (and most certainly costly) modernization of the old 19th-century sheepsfold turned New Deal–era eatery, as part of the next 20-year contract, which is now up for public bidding.

Officials are specifically seeking an “alternative design” for LeRoy’s iconic Crystal Room and an overall plan to make the entire building more environmentally friendly, energy-efficient and legally accessible to disabled patrons, according to the Parks Department’s formal request for proposals released on Feb. 2.

It’s a pretty tall order, given the gloomy economic forecast. Yet, “even in a faltering economy,” Parks Commissioner Adrian Benepe told the New York Post, his phone was “ringing off the hook” with prospective operators seeking to cash in on the lucrative location, which nets around $30 million in annual revenues, ranking it among the highest-grossing non-chain restaurants in the country.

(The city is also seeking a higher cut of the proceeds, somewhere between 10 percent to 20 percent of gross revenues, compared with the current 3.5 percent, which amounted to barely more than $1 million annually.)

All sorts of big names have been mentioned as possible suitors—including Donald Trump, Drew Nieporent, Dean Poll, Danny Meyer and Peter Glazier—though the actual list of interested parties will likely become clearer on March 19, when the city hosts an official meeting with proposed bidders. (The formal bids are due on May 1.)

First and foremost, aspiring operators will have to contend with LeRoy’s formidable ghost.

Heirs of the charismatic former operator, who died in 2001, have firmly vowed to outbid any competitor for the space. Toward that end, the LeRoy family has borrowed a page from the Caroline Kennedy playbook and enlisted the help of the high-powered and politically connected public relations outfit Knickerbocker SKD, in addition to the prominent lobbying firm Capalino + Company.

State records show that Tavern management is paying the lobbying group $10,000 a month to grease some wheels with the Parks Department, mayor’s office, City Council and local Community Board 7; the firm has been on Tavern’s payroll since 2007.

Tavern reps told The Observer it was “too premature” to discuss the LeRoy family’s own specific plans for sprucing up the space.

But, in an interview with the paper back in late 2006, LeRoy’s youngest daughter and heir apparent, Jennifer Oz LeRoy, hinted at even more ostentatious design schemes yet to come. “My dream is to make a rhinestone-studded ceiling,” the then 20-something Tavern boss said. “I would just have to make sure that the glue was really good so that there weren’t rhinestones falling into people’s lobster bisque.”

BEYOND THE MATTER of upholding the family’s sparkly legacy, Tavern brass has long maintained that few other operators would have the wherewithal to handle such an enormous operation.

It employs more than 500 staffers serving up to 1,500 patrons at a time. More than 300 of those employees are unionized, a situation many restaurateurs view as an impediment, much to the chagrin of organized labor.

In addition to its various hostesses, cooks, waiters and busboys, Tavern management also takes pride in the fact that it is one of the only restaurants in the country to employ a full-time horticulturist. That giant King Kong–shaped shrubbery in the garden isn’t going to trim itself, after all.

The next operator would probably have to hang on to the guy with the hedge trimmers, too. At least at first. The city is requiring the successful operator to retain any existing staffer who wishes to stay on for at least the first 90 days.

The LeRoys have a number of other advantages over rival bidders, as well, perhaps most importantly pertaining to the restaurant’s famous name. The family holds a federal trademark on the moniker, meaning any successful rival operator would need to buy a separate license from the LeRoys simply to retain any semblance of brand-name recognition.

A new proprietor would also inherit little more than an empty shell: “All chandeliers, sconces and light fixtures, mirrors, paintings, lithographs, ‘Tiffany’-style windows, sculptures, weather vanes and other decorative elements currently found at the restaurant, are the property of the current concessionaire, Tavern on the Green Ltd.,” according to the Parks Department.

At least for now, the nostalgia is still a big part of the attraction.

As my wife and I gathered our coats and headed out the door on Sunday, we overheard a middle-aged male patron react with glee at all the old photos hung in the hallway—ghosts of Tavern past: “Hey, there’s Warner LeRoy! And Peter Jennings! And Tennessee Williams!”

cshott@observer.com

In 1999, when their three kids had all reached the age of 20, the LeRoys split up, though they remained close until his death in February. After the divorce–in which she was awarded $22 million and the couple's house in Amagansett–Ms. LeRoy, a British former TWA stewardess, enrolled at New York University with the intention of finally getting a college degree.

This summer, between semesters, Ms. LeRoy bought a $2.871 million loft at a building called the Greenwich, at 65 West 13th Street, and moved there from the Upper East Side. Having installed herself downtown, Ms. LeRoy is now living under the same roof as her daughter Jennifer, 22, the new chief executive of Warner LeRoy's $54 million empire.

Ms. LeRoy had accompanied her daughter to the building, the former Siegel's department store, last winter, when Jennifer was looking to buy her 2,700-square-foot apartment–unfinished space with plumbing and floor-to-ceiling windows. A few months later, Ms. LeRoy went down to the same building on her own to see a 2,838-square-foot loft that was on the market for $2.9 million (common charges are $1,219). The apartment she bought on July 2 is a corner unit with 95-year-old wood floors and large, rounded windows detailed from the outside by ornate railings, said Michele Conte of Brown Harris Stevens, the building's sales director.

Ms. Conte said the two women were anxious to share an address. "Their relationship is really something," said Ms. Conte. "They just adore each other …. When it comes to mothers and daughters, this is the way it should be." Ms. LeRoy wouldn't comment, and Jennifer LeRoy didn't return calls.

The LeRoy family has always been very close–at least geographically. At the time of LeRoy's death, Jennifer and her siblings–Max, 27, and Carolyn, 29–had quarters at their father's lavish apartment atop 3 Lincoln Center. His oldest daughter, Bridget, 33, from a previous marriage, occupies a small house on the family's 60-acre Amagansett estate, where Ms. LeRoy has been spending the summer in her own 12,000-square-foot house.

With their father's death, the kids put his apartment–an 8,200-square-foot penthouse with a screening room, 360-degree views and a gym–on the market for $24 million with the Corcoran Group. Carolyn is still living there with her husband. But, like his mother and his younger sister, Max–who recently returned from a stint in L.A.–is also living downtown now. If they're scattering, the family still seems headed in the same direction.

UPPER EAST SIDE

A DYNASTY OF 61ST STREET IS DOWN TO ONE HARD-TO-SELL $6.5 MILLION TOWNHOUSE Peter Ausnit's family started buying up property on the south side of 61st Street, between Park and Lexington avenues, in the 1950's. By 1985, when they owned all but two of the buildings on that side of the street, they decided to sell four townhouses–112, 114, 116 and 118 East 61st Street–to a developer who could create a residential tower. But that same year, community activists successfully pushed for rezoning of the midblock properties throughout most of the Upper East Side, making it illegal to build a structure greater than four times the size of the existing building. So, in 1987, the Ausnits decided to try to sell the four buildings separately, for $1.9 million apiece. The last one, 116 East 61st Street, is still on the market.

The four buildings, built in 1869,wereoriginallysingle-family dwellings; they were converted to apartments in the housing crunch after World War II. The other three have since been bought and renovated; No. 116 is now a little weather-beaten, but it still has deep crown moldings and working fireplaces, and Mr. Ausnit has restored the bathroom and kitchen fixtures and the oak parquet paneling on the floors. The place is on the market for $6.5 million, and Mr. Ausnit is prepared to wait out the current overcrowded townhouse market to get his price.

Dressed on a recent morning in a straw hat, dress shirt and red pants cinched at the waist with a large Gucci belt, Mr. Ausnit had a firm handshake–no doubt strengthened by his years as a semi-retired real-estate investor. It was already hot outside, but it was cool on the ground floor of the townhouse, where a terrazzo floor had been uncovered in a recent renovation.

"This is my favorite room," he said, gesturing around the dark, cherry-paneled dining room at the rear end of the ground floor. Though it has French doors leading out to a newly planted garden, the dark room had an eerie, patrician feel to it, accentuated by a wood-burning fireplace with an impressive mantelpiece. "Europeans like it," said Mr. Ausnit. "Americans don't like it."

Each of the upper three floors has two rooms–front and back–and two bathrooms. On the parlor floor, there's a library and a living room, the latter with a small terrace overlooking the garden. The four bedrooms on the top two floors are large, with two of them measuring 18 by 23 feet.

When the tour was done, Mr. Ausnit confessed an attachment to the house, his favorite on the block. "This is the only one we considered living in," he said. "My wife had a different idea." He lives a few doors down, in a huge penthouse he built atop 525 Park Avenue, which his family owned until converting it to a co-op in 1987.

Out on the street, a crew was working next-door on No. 118, demolishing its façade and all the interior walls and throwing dust onto the "For Sale" sign hanging over the terra-cotta-colored façade of No. 116. Selling the place would bring an end to Mr. Ausnit's family legacy. Then again, he said he's in talks to rent the house to a foreign ambassador for $28,000 a month.

TRIBECA

GOLDMAN SACHS LEADERSHIP GURU LANDS $4.1 MILLION LOFT In May, Goldman Sachs hired Steven Kerr, a soft-spoken, curly-haired Ph.D., as its new chief learning officer. Almost immediately, Mr. Kerr–who'd been working at General Electric in the same capacity–did what anyone else who'd just gotten a fat new salary would do: He went shopping for a fancy new apartment. In early July, he bought a condo at 114 Liberty Street, near Washington Street, for $4.175 million. (Goldman's offices are at 85 Broad Street.)

Mr. Kerr–who got his degree in management and organizational psychology, wrote The Boundaryless Organization and edited Ultimate Rewards , another leadership guide–is responsible for spotting leadership potential at Goldman and optimizing those leaders' effectiveness. To that end, he's instituting a screening process and developing more coaching and mentoring programs. But he knows it won't be easy. "One of my predecessors at G.E. went to an investment bank and then returned to G.E. with the message that training Wall Streeters can't be done," Mr. Kerr reportedly said. "People who are successful are the hardest to change."

Mr. Kerr's new home, a former office building that was converted to eight full-floor condos in the late 1990's, is 6,000 square feet and has four bedrooms, a fireplace, a library, and D.S.L. and satellite-TV service. It used to belong to Steven Elghanayan, one of the developers behind the conversion of the building and the guy who bought the beloved El Teddy's restaurant in Tribeca (known for the giant Statue of Liberty crown at the top), with the hopes of tearing it down and building a six-story, two-family house. His plans were thwarted when the Tribeca community came out in support of the neighborhood restaurant.

Neither Mr. Kerr nor Mr. Elghanayan returned calls for comment.

MIDTOWN

2 Tudor City Place

One-bed, one-bath, 800-square-foot co-op.

Asking: $350,000. Selling: $340,000.

Charges: $868; 54 percent tax-deductible.

Time on the market: two and a half weeks.

CITY WITHIN THE CITY Located between First and Second avenues and 40th and 43rd streets, Tudor City is a small residential enclave in the heart of midtown. All but one of the 12 buildings there were built in the 1920's in the Tudor style (hence the name), and the area has two parks. Because of its location between the U.N. and Grand Central, Tudor City is a particular kind of place, and when selling this 800-square-foot apartment (in the one non-Tudor building), Sandra Balan of Douglas Elliman realized that the people who live here "are all diehard Tudor City people," she said. "It was almost freaky. They'd say, 'I started at 25 Tudor, and then I went to 35 Tudor.' And whenever I'd show this apartment, they would take my clients aside and say, 'This is the best place in the city.'" Not everyone was convinced, but a guy who works for the Ford Foundation, which has offices a block away, was. Ms. Balan was unsure, however, if he'll be a lifer.

UPPER WEST SIDE

50 Central Park West (the Prasada)

Three-bed, three-bath, 2,600-square-foot co-op.

Asking: $4 million. Selling: $3.8 million.

Charges: $2,967; 50 percent tax-deductible.

Time on the market: 13 months.

THIS OLD APARTMENT HOUSE Only 12 years after Franklin and Samuel Haines built this impressive, French Second Empire-style apartment house, at 64th Street and Central Park West, in 1907, the Prasada's distinctive mansard roof and attic were ripped away and a new flat roof created–a serious flaw in the minds of some critics. Since then, the building, with its sought-after turn-of-the-century details, has continued to be futzed with. "These apartments get turned over so many times, and the buyers want to put their own mark on the territory," said Douglas Elliman broker Lee Zimmerman, who just sold this apartment for a single woman who'd spent the last year renovating it. According to the broker, the seller did a number of "restorations"–including work on the ceilings–but also added a "spa-like" master bathroom with a large oval tub and a gourmet eat-in kitchen. "Now the buyer"–another single woman–"is coming in and spending a lot of money to redo it again," said Mr. Zimmerman. The seller is moving to the new Park Laurel condominium a block away at 63rd Street and Central Park West.

CHELSEA

303 West 20th Street

Three-story, 2,100-square-foot townhouse.

Asking: $1.35 million. Selling: $1.3 million.

Taxes: $5,600.

Time on the market: seven months.

WHO LET THE DOGS OUT? Since the 1970's, the ground floor of this three-story building has been the home of the Chelsea Dog and Cat Hospital, and the owner, who lives in New Jersey, rented out a small duplex above. Twenty feet wide but only 32 feet deep (plus a small rear extension on the ground floor), this red-brick building is not the typical Chelsea townhouse, but more like a carriage house. Though it dates back to the turn of the century, according to broker James Nelson of Massey Knakal Realty Services, he did not know the house's original purpose. When the renters were planning to give up the apartment and the owner of the veterinary business decided to move shop, the townhouse went on the market for $1.35 million. Its location–on a quiet block that's just around the corner from the recently upscale commercial bustle of Chelsea's Eighth Avenue and local schools–made it a popular listing among small families. After close to 20 offers, the best one–at $50,000 below the asking price–came from a family of four, eager to leave their co-op apartment not far away. They'll have work to do to rejoin the building's separated parts, and the condition of the upstairs duplex leaves something to be desired. With this in mind, Mr. Nelson said the buyers were considering leasing out the ground floor again while they concentrate on fixing up the upstairs and then, in time, incorporating the ground floor.