In a city where 75% of restaurants close or change hands within five years of opening, according to the New York State Restaurant Association, it takes something exceptional to stay around for 63 years, as Gino has. It, along with very few others, has received a warm and lasting embrace from New York.

Piemontese Italian restaurant Barbetta in midtown has been around for a little over a century now. Opened by Sebastiano Maioglio in 1906, it is now owned by his daughter Laura. It’s the oldest restaurant in New York still owned by its founding family.

Old Homestead is 137 years old, making it the oldest steakhouse in the city. It has survived in an ever-evolving meatpacking district, through the strip-club scene and into the more recent aggressive bar scene.

Combined, the three have been in business for 302 years, and the most striking thing about their continued success is not only how similar each strategy is but also how simple.

Greg Sherry has been working at Old Homestead since 1962. His beginnings were humble: for over a decade he worked in every part of the restaurant, from the coat room to the kitchen. In 1973, he was boning out a rib when a delivery came. He turned away from his work and the knife slipped into his wrist. The particularly sharp point entered close to a vein, and Sherry still has the scar. But for all the marks Old Homestead has left on him, he has left many more on it: Every wall sconce and plateful of meat has his direct approval. He says he knows, personally, one in every five patrons on any given night.

The first thing you will see, as you approach the steakhouse, is a life-size cow perched on the awning. A massive beacon in brown and white, it might as well be the menu posted outside; Sherry likes to tell you that his restaurant focuses on the four main food groups: "Beef, beef, beef and beef."

A little further uptown, Barbetta owner Laura Maioglio greets you in a slightly less direct fashion. Walking into her restaurant is like slipping across the Atlantic and into the past. The harpsichord in the foyer, for instance, dates from 1631. Maioglio has collected this, along with the countless other antique treasures inside. It seems unbelievable that Barbetta is actually a functioning restaurant and not a European manor, preserved to give the 21st century public an idea of the opulence of old Italy. 

A high-ceiling dining room in warm beige and gold is crowned by a chandelier once owned by Italian royalty. The idyllic garden is all white furniture and sheltered from the reality of midtown by towering foliage. Maioglio, a degree holder in art history, is there in every romantic curve of every ornate carving. She is watchful of the kitchen's output as well, ensuring that the experience remains loyal to the Piemonte region of Italy, but the Team de Cuisine including Chef Abdul Sebti does not share her singular devotion to the past and is allowed a freedom for subtle improvisation in keeping the food as beautiful as the decor.

The walls of Gino are populated by zebras. There are 314 of them, by legendary journalist Gay Talese's count in a piece he wrote for the New Yorker on the restaurant's 50th anniversary. They are leaping in pairs, four rows heading in opposite directions, all frozen in the moment just before massive arrows from an unseen cartoon bow hit them behind their front legs. You cannot ignore these animals; they are set against a bright red background: red, like the color of Michael's famous segreto (secret) sauce.

Gino has found its menu is best left alone, but other landmark restaurants choose to continually adapt to changing demand. Barbetta's menu includes next to each item the year it was introduced. There is balance; dinner is a trip through the century. The Minestrone Giardiniera is as old as the restaurant itself, but the home-smoked Atlantic Salmon has only been around for 16 years. The Risotto al nero di Seppie has been on the menu since the 1970s, while the Mousse of Orange Bittersweet Chocolate is just one year old.

Old Homestead has kept a watchful eye on the changing possibilities of its beloved beef. Ribeye, in demand over the last half-decade or so, is Sherry's current recommendation for flavor. The Kobe offerings are certainly novel, but it is the filet, prepared in 137 year-old in-house traditions, which anchors the menu. Sherry recalls the days when those selling their meat at the market would fill Old Homestead, knowing they had sold to the restaurant their finest offerings. The market has moved on, but he says the choice of cuts remains Old Homestead's.

Another key to reaching restaurant old age is in the service. You will find no stand-offish aspiring models among the wait staff at any of these restaurants. Your meal will be served by devoted veterans who have been working at their restaurants since the time you were wearing diapers and chucking vegetables at the floor.

Sherry, sitting at a table near the front of Old Homestead, calls over the nearest server. "Alex," he says. "How long have you been here?"

The response comes, evenly, "Forty years."

At Gino, Michael and co-owner Salvatore employ only "professionals,” men who are seamless liaisons between kitchen and table. Barbetta’s Chef Abdul has brought some of the waitstaff from their previous posts at Tavern on the Green and 21 Club. Others have always been here.

It starts with the owners, who take pride in every single detail of their restaurants. Ask Michael or Salvatore who likes to sit at the table against the wall closest to the bar. Don't expect hesitation. Have Greg Sherry explain to you why the pictures on the wall are partly in color and partly in black-and-white. He'll happily explain the beauty in combining old and new. Or Laura Maioglio—challenge her to tie every single thing in her restaurant, from the appetizers to the wines in the wine library to the paintings, back to northern Italy. And this is not a theoretical discussion. You, personally, could go to any of these places tonight and really talk to these people. They'd be happy to meet you. All four of them firmly believe they have perfected the experience of eating a meal, and if perfection is achieved through practice, through years of trial and error and the gradual evolution of every recipe, then they'd be hard to argue with.