On La Grenouille’s 45th-anniversary celebration, in 2007, the late Doug McGrath, a very dear friend and talented author, asked my mother: “Madame Masson, why did you open in late December while everyone’s away? Why?” My mother laughed: “I don’t know. It was stupid.”
On December 19, 1962, Charles and Gisèle Masson opened a French restaurant with an unpronounceable name, on a snowy night, amid the longest newspaper strike ever to hit New York. There were no backers, no partners, no real money. It was fueled only by elbow grease and purveyors’ credit.
