It’s probably been too long since you visited Grand Central Oyster Bar, and we get it—subjecting yourself to Grand Central Terminal without a train to catch feels wrong. But beneath the celestial ceilings, and the tourists staring up at them, this cavernous seafood spot is a true New York institution, where you should come to eat raw bivalves at least once a year. There's a dining room to the left full of people who have been ordering the catch of the day since the ’70s, and a windowless room called the saloon in the back that would be a nice place to go if you needed to hide. But we prefer the counter and oyster bar, right in the middle. They're a bit more dressed-down, and full of people who know how to do Grand Central Oyster Bar right: skip most of the menu, order dozens of oysters, and sip stiff, sloshy martinis in a place where not much has changed since 1913. The counter is first come, first served, and as soon as you're seated, a server—who might have an unironic handlebar mustache—will toss you a handful of oyster cracker packets from an industrial grade plastic tub, then ask you what you'd like. You'd like a martini, extra dirty so you can't taste the gin, and oysters. Many. Let your server decide which ones (include the Blue Points), and they'll bring you an assortment of whatever's available on a clam-shaped metal dish, with paper cups full of cocktail sauce. After over a hundred years, the servers at GCOB have it down to a science. Around you, families of four order one dozen each. A child switches between a Shirley temple and a cup of clam chowder. A teenage couple vlogs their experience, making a very good case for oysters being aphrodisiacs. A salt-and-pepper haired man eats flounder, a group of businessmen opt for raw clams while discussing quaaludes, and a woman finishes 12 oysters in five minutes flat. (Maybe she has a train to catch.) The rest of the menu is pricey and skippable, but you won't find a crowd like this one anywhere else in New York City. So, visit that natural wine bar, and order that caviar-topped whatever, but don’t forget about Grand Central Oyster Bar.