The Carnegie Deli & America

I went to the Carnegie Deli recently to experience it before it shutters forever this New Year's Eve after 79 years in business. It's closing not because of the rent, but because the owner is tired of it all. Someone wants to buy the place and keep it going, but the owner is not interested. It's closing. Period. So I went.



If you've tried to get into the Carnegie you know it's almost impossible, thanks to the hordes of tourists mobbing at the door day and night. Tourists have always dined at the Carnegie--I did when I was a teenage tourist--but today the city suffers under mass tourism and there are many places--parks, museums--that are no longer enjoyable because of them.

So I got there at 8:00 in the morning, the moment it opened. Only a few diners were inside. It was quiet, the speakers playing light music from the 70s and 80s. Kenny Rogers, Barry Manilow, Neil Diamond. Their images hang on the walls, in the famous sea of autographed head shots.

What will happen to all those head shots when Carnegie goes? What will happen to Larry Hagman, David Hasselhoff, Mr. T?



I couldn't bring myself to eat an overloaded pastrami sandwich at 8:00 in the morning, so I ordered eggs. A mistake. Nothing interesting happened. No Borscht Belt comedians were hanging out, cracking wise. Just the tourists, most of them looking tired and somewhat depressed.

As I was leaving, the place had already begun to crowd. A group of giddy young women took up a whole long table, every single one carrying those flowery quilted duffel bags you only see tourists carrying. They were loud. Bachelorettes. I left.



I decided to go to the Guggenheim just to use the golden toilet known as "America." I walked across Central Park, hoping that by the time I arrived at my destination my breakfast would have inspired a solid production. A shit in a golden toilet would be something. But this was not to be.



Again, I arrived early. I got to use the toilet right away, before the crowds showed up. The attendant informed us that people wait as long as two hours for the opportunity to evacuate into solid gold. Maybe they want to feel like Donald Trump. Maybe they want to make a statement, some sort of private protest. Or maybe they're just nihilists.

Does anyone prep for this experience by swallowing a handful of Just Another Rich Kid's gold pills so they can shit gold in the gold toilet?

I stepped inside and closed the door. Alone with the toilet, I snapped a few photos, then did what anyone does. A belly full of Carnegie Deli coffee went into "America." I can't say that I felt any better about the whole thing--the tourists, the loss of New York's character, hyper-gentrification, the presidential election, America, the way everything is going (down the shitter?). But I did feel like I'd accomplished some elemental mission, and it was still early in the day, after all. So there was that.

Mimi's to Famiglia

Mimi's Pizza Restaurant shuttered this summer due to a rent dispute with the landlord. Owned by the Vanacore family for 59 years, it was a beloved part of its Upper East Side neighborhood.


photo by Andrew Fine

Now, in a sickening sort of irony, a pizza restaurant chain is moving in. La Famiglia is taking Mimi's spot, replacing real family with fake family.

According to the Famiglia site, "you can find Famous Famiglia locations across leading airports, shopping centers, casinos, travel plazas, military bases, theme parks, universities, and busy urban centers."


via Twitter @JRMcGrail

Mimi's Pizza

VANISHED

At 84th and Lexington on the Upper East Side for 59 years, Mimi's Pizza is no more.

On Sunday they wrote on their Facebook page: "It is with a heavy heart that after 59 years, today is our last day of business. Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond our control, we are forced to close our doors. We want to take this opportunity to thank our loyal customers and neighbors on the Upper East Side for your friendship and patronage. This is an extremely difficult time for our family, but we hope to see you in the future."

Andrew Fine shared the news and a photo on Twitter, announcing today's auction of the pizzeria's equipment:



"Mimi" is short for Dominic, the original owner, according to this little film about the place:



Mimi's is considered a local institution. Paul McCartney was a regular. Bobby Flay used to roll out the dough.

It will be missed.

*Update: The Daily News followed up on this story and reports the closure is due to a rent dispute with the landlord. So what else is new?

Il Vagabondo

VANISHING?

The Italian restaurant Il Vagabondo has been on East 62nd Street since 1965--and longer than that as a bar. It has the only in-restaurant bocce court in town--it was built in 1910. And now we hear it might be closing.


1968

Restaurant critic Gael Greene tweeted today that Il Vagabondo will be forced to shutter in the spring because the "townhouse it didn't own was sold":




I called the restaurant and the woman who answered was unaware of any upcoming closure. That's not always solid, but let's hope this one is just a rumor.

For more on this classic red-sauce joint and its bocce court, watch this.

Palm For Rent

Back in June, I first shared the news that The Palm Restaurant, after 90 years, would likely be closing. Last month, The Real Deal confirmed and Eater posted photos of the ruined interior, its priceless murals destroyed.

Now reader Dave J. sends in a photo of the recently raised "For Rent" banner:



It's very large and rather self-satisfied. It proudly crows: "1st Time Available in 90 Years."

That's not actually a good thing. That's a bad thing. That's a thing that means a 90-year-old treasure has been shuttered...so a cupcake shop or fro-yo chain can move in.

Also, the windows have been papered over. So no more bloggers taking pictures of the destruction inside.

The Palm

VANISHED

Back in June, thanks to a tipster, I first reported the intel that the original Palm restaurant was gone for good.



Earlier this week, The Real Deal confirmed that the owners have sold the building for $5.9 million. But will it be preserved? Will the historic, priceless murals be cherished and maintained for the next generations? Don't hold your breath.

Yesterday, Eater posted photos of the restaurant's interior, its wonderful murals painted over, destroyed. One of the buyers, Steven Kachanian (of the apparently not ironically named Klosed Properties), told The Real Deal, “We’re working with some high-end tenants looking to do some major work to the property."

What the fuck is wrong with people? This was the original Palm restaurant, 90 years old, gorgeous, storied, beloved, its walls covered in caricatures hand-drawn by some of America's most celebrated cartoonists. This was a one-of-a-kind treasure, never to be reproduced. You can't buy this kind of uniqueness, it has to grow organically and mature over time--over a century of time. But we're living in a fucked up city where fucked up people do fucked up things like destroy art, culture, and history--all in one fell swoop if they can manage it--just to replace it with something banal and miserable from the monoculture of the day.

If people can't see the value in preserving something so obviously exquisite and exceptional like the Palm, there is no hope. Just put in a cupcake shop already and call it a day.


Previously:
The Palm is Vanishing



Update: Zagat published a statement from the owners. In part, it reads: "The beloved hand painted caricatures were housed on walls made of plaster, which made it impossible to remove the caricatures for preservation purposes. Photos and videos have been taken of the famous walls prior to the sale for our internal preservation purposes."

The Palm

VANISHED?

This past April, the nearly 90-year-old Palm Restaurant closed for renovations. Now we hear speculation that The Palm may never open again.



A tipster who wishes to remain anonymous shared the following in an email:

"There are very strong rumors that the original Palm Restaurant is not merely closed for renovations. I have heard from a very reliable source, who is in touch with people who work at other Palm restaurants in the city, that the building is not salvageable. What was supposed to be less than a one-year renovation may actually be a tear down. This would be another major loss for NYC."



I've shared rumors here before -- the takeover of El Quijote, the destruction of Caffe Dante, the murder of Manatus --  and I don't do it lightly. Unfortunately, while owners deny and neighbors say "no way," the rumors usually turn out to be true.

If this is the case for The Palm, it will be another tragedy on the scale of Chumley's collapse. Or worse--because the walls of The Palm are covered with original artworks, drawn and painted directly on the plaster, like precious frescoes.



As the Palm's website explains, "When Pio Bozzi and John Ganzi opened The Palm Restaurant in 1926, they had no money to decorate. Luckily, their location on Manhattan’s Second Avenue was in close proximity to the headquarters of King Features Syndicate and attracted a large clientele of cartoonists. In exchange for their meals, artists would often draw their own creations on the walls of The Palm."

Here, the cartoonists and their cartoons include Mort Walker with an original Beetle Bailey, C.D. Russell's Pete the Tramp muttering, "Let's get some wimmen," Bill Dwyer's Dumb Dora.

The cartoons' talk is from an earlier time. "This is a swell place," they say. "Doin' anything tonight, Toots?" And "Monkeys is th' kwaziest people!"

Most of the caricatures are not famous, but forgotten men once known for having "bedroom eyes" or loving the song "Autumn Leaves."

The cacophonous result is a sepia-washed portal into old New York. Men with big cigars and fedoras, Clark Gable-style mustaches and bowties joke around with naked ladies, superheroes, and John F. Kennedy. Through their skins you see the original yellowed walls, stained by tobacco smoke.



I regret that I only recently discovered The Palm. I went inside last year, in the no-service lull between lunch and dinner, and took in the dark-wood splendor of the place, vowing to go back for a meal. I never did. Now I worry that I never will.

Fingers crossed that the rumor isn't true. Still, our tipster provides a lot of details. They heard from sources that "restoration has not begun, and that other interested parties are looking at the property. The work was supposed to be finished by the end of this year."

In April, a "waiter said the plans were to move the coat check to the front on the north side, tear down a wall separating the two dining rooms, which would mean removing some of the oldest caricatures," and more. "Many employees were moved to other locations or were dismissed."

This sounds very different from "It won’t be a radical renovation," as the Palm Restaurant Group's chief operating officer told Crain's. Shouldn't this be an interior landmark?



Cartoonist Milton Caniff, whose work adorns the walls, once recalled to an interviewer: "After Prohibition, the owner threatened to redecorate the place, but such a hue and cry was set up that he didn't dare. And he hasn't dared since."

When the Palm in LA relocated, its caricatures (of a more recent vintage than New York's) did not follow. Many of them were cut out of the walls and given to their subjects.

After the April announcement of the New York Palm's face-lift, regulars like Alfred E. Nass worried about the fate of their caricatures. Nass told the Times, "The last thing I’d want is for this to be a Penn Station, where they come in with jackhammers."



Requests for a statement from the Palm Restaurant Group have not been returned.

Pisacane Seafood

Reader Jean-Luc tells us that the Pisacane fish market on 1st Avenue between 52nd and 51st street is shutting its doors tomorrow--"A huge loss for the neighborhood and city."



Last summer, another reader told me this closure would be coming down the pike. The owners had listed the building for sale, at $6,800,000, to be "delivered vacant."



At the time, I went in for a visit. I was told they were not closing, and had another 10 years. This now seems not to be the case, though I have not confirmed it.

I was also told that the business is 160 years old--with 60 years in one location and 100 years in this one. Or maybe vice versa. In any case, the place has been around a long time.



What I hear from both readers is that the small business has been struggling with inflated property taxes and utility bills -- both of which can kill a mom and pop, even when they own the building.

Jim's Shoe Repair--Victory

NOT VANISHING

A year ago, I broke the news that Jim's Shoe Repair was being kicked out of its space on E. 59th Street, where it's been since 1932. Landlord S.L. Green gave the space to Walgreens so they could expand their giant Duane Reade.



News spread, we started a petition and wrote letters, and Jim's got help from the powerful law firm Bickel and Brewer, whose Storefront affiliate gives help to community individuals and businesses in need. Now there's good news.

Third-generation Joe Rocco told me, "Duane Reade has agreed to give us the lease back," and it's good for several more years.

A year ago, Joe and his family thought it was over. They were looking for a new space. But today, "We're all excited. The combination of our loyal customers all staying behind us, and the help from Bickel and Brewer made it happen."

"Hopefully, it starts something," says Joe. "Hopefully, people in this city will see that these old places are valuable and worth saving."

There will be a celebration in the shoe repair shop today at 2:00. (The local news has video.)



From the full press release:

For one of New York City’s most cherished businesses and thousands of its customers, there is much to celebrate in the New Year.

Jim’s Shoe Repair announced today that it has signed a new lease agreement and will remain in business at its current location at 50 E. 59th Street. The family-owned cobbling business has been at its current location since 1940, but was only weeks away from losing its space and having to vacate the premises.

An in-store celebration is planned for 2 p.m. today.

“Words cannot describe what it means for a small business like ours to defy the odds – and be able to stay in the location we’ve called home for over 70 years,” said Joseph Rocco, Jr. “We are grateful to our attorneys, Duane Reade, Borough President Gale Brewer, SL Green, and the thousands of people who voiced their support of our business. All worked together to make this miracle possible.”

Jim’s fight for survival has become one of the most closely-followed cases of its kind – emblematic of the struggle faced by small businesses swept away in the “corporatization” of New York City. It has been widely reported that Jim’s was losing its 1,000 square-foot shop to accommodate the expansion of Duane Reade, located next door.

The Bickel & Brewer Storefront, the community-service affiliate of Bickel & Brewer law firm, represented Jim’s in the courtroom, pro bono, and engineered a grassroots petition drive to help save the business. The Storefront sought a landmark designation for Jim’s, and filed a petition in Manhattan Supreme Court on behalf of the business against the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission. The Storefront also defended Jim’s in eviction proceedings. Jim’s and its landlord, SL Green Realty Corp., have settled all claims as a condition of the new lease agreement. The terms of the deal were not disclosed.

“Jim’s is a business that embodies the American Dream,” says William A. Brewer III, partner at the Storefront and long-time Jim’s customer. “The victory today is for all those who value family-owned businesses in this country. They represent a time when the fabric of our communities were tied to family values.”

“This is a storybook ending for our customers and a business that runs in our blood,” says [Rocco's great-grandson] Andrew. “It feels like we are part of something larger here, giving hope to small businesses in this community and throughout all of New York City. We have achieved the impossible.”




Previously:
Jim's Shoe Repair
Save Jim's

Join the Save New York Facebook page

Subway Inn II

When the Subway Inn was forced out of its long-time home in December, after attempts to save the 77-year-old dive failed to sway the hearts of World-Wide Real Estate Group, the Salinas family vowed to reopen nearby.

It looks like the new place is progressing well.


the old Subway Inn today--sign removed

The beautiful neon sign was removed from the old spot and is being put back together in the new location at 1140 Second Avenue at 60th Street.


Subway Inn Facebook page

The bar is being rebuilt.


Subway Inn Facebook page

Michael Hirsch sends in this photo of the "coming soon" sign. The final product will include Atomic Wings at the back:



Check out this film by Zagat about Subway Inn's fight to stay alive:

Brill Library

If you haven't yet made a trip to the Abraham A. Brill Library at the New York Psychoanalytic Society & Institute, you should. It is open to the public.



I wandered in one evening while attending a literary event at the institute (a rare occasion among their many lectures on psychology), and was delighted and surprised to find a real card catalog.



You know, the kind made from a wooden (or metal) cabinet filled with drawers. You slip your finger into the brass latch and pull them out. You flip through cards made of paper, each one typed (typed!) with information about a book or article -- in this case, articles like "Psychological Rationale of Puppetry" by one Adolf G. Woltmann.



Just glancing at each drawer's subjects can lead to pure poetry -- a poetry of the absurd. In a quick jaunt, you can go from FATHERS TO FEVER,



from DEPRIVATION TO DIARREA [sic],




and from VACATION TO VULVECTOMY.



Inside each drawer, you'll find a Pandora's Box of phobias, anxieties, and complexes.



There are plenty of books here, too, of course. It's a library. The whole place is an artifact from the days when the Upper East Side was filled with Viennese accents asking about your mother. But it's those card catalogs that really do it for me.

Subway Inn on the Move

If you've been wondering and worrying about the fate of the Subway Inn, the owners have just released this statement on their Facebook page:



Statement from the Salinas Family on the Future of Iconic Subway Inn Bar

On behalf of my entire family-- I have some wonderful news to share. Earlier today we signed a long term lease on a new location which the Subway Inn will now call home.

On December 2nd, 2014-- the Subway Inn will close at its current location on 60th and Lexington Ave. to begin its relocation and REPLICATION (EXACTLY AS IT IS NOW) less than 2 blocks away on the same side of the street --at 60th and Second Avenue. Our move and REPLICATION is expected to take approximately 10 weeks to complete.

We had requested to remain in our current home til the end of the year so that none of our family members or employees would be without a job over the holiday season. Unfortunately, the landlord denied our plea.

We are excited about this development and have put the right team in place to make certain that every piece of furniture, including our famous neon signs, the current bar, every bar stool, even the original bar booths—(that Marilyn Monroe and Joe DiMaggio sat in) will make their way a stone’s throw down 60th Street and be set back up exactly as you see it today.

And, it won’t just be the contents that will be the same. The space will look exactly the same. Colors, floor and all! In fact, our replication architect is hard at work making sure our new home will be nearly identical. Also, our prices will not change.

We realize this is a tremendous, risky undertaking, and will be very expensive to replicate—however my family is committed to keeping our tradition alive—and making sure Subway Inn lives on for many more generation’s to enjoy.

At Donohue's

For my piece in this week's Metro NY, a visit to Dononue's Steak House on Lexington near 64th.



...it’s the people who really take you back to an older New York, before restaurant chatter was about nothing but money, work, and the latest technological toy—before people became so boring.

At lunchtime, around the bar at Donohue’s, you’ll find the real New Yorkers. The scientist sipping a Manhattan knows everything about everything. The older lady quaffing white wine sounds exactly like Maureen O’Sullivan, with a slight slur that makes her only more elegant. The bartender, with his German accent, referees the conversation with jokes.

In a discussion that bounces from George Orwell to life in India, a newspaper headline shifts the talk to Robin Williams. Comedians really are unhappy people, the group decides.

“It’s the old Pagliacci thing,” says the scientist. “The weeping clown. It’s the misery behind the laughter.”

Jerry Lewis? Miserable. Lenny Bruce? Wretched. Milton Berle? He might have been okay, but Lucille Ball was decidedly unpleasant. They move on to other celebrities with difficult personalities. “Hey,” says the bartender, readying a joke, “you know what Sinatra said when he introduced Mia Farrow to his mother? He said, ‘Mama, Mia.’ You see? Mama Mia!” ...


Please read the rest of the essay in the paper here.

Save Subway Inn

As we recently heard, Subway Inn, the beloved dive bar by Bloomingdale's since 1937, has been given the ax by the building's new owner, World-Wide Real Estate Group. The building is scheduled to be demolished, possibly along with its iconic neon sign, for luxury condos. As of now, they're being forced out by August 20.

But Subway Inn is not going down without a fight. They've started a petition and an Indiegogo campaign to help pay for lawyers.



"Save Subway Inn! For our Neighborhood and our Family," reads the Indiegogo page. "We believe that New York City is about more than rich investors gobbling up small family businesses to make a quick buck thereby destroying the integrity of the Upper East Side of Manhattan. For more than 40 years -- the ENTIRE Salinas family has poured its heart and soul into this neighborhood landmark."

"We call on lawmakers and concerned New Yorkers to STAND UP to these actions, and to stop World-Wide Real Estate from destroying our home by ripping it away from those who helped build this city -- and who would never be able to afford the multi-million dollar condos that they are planning to put in place of a neighborhood treasure."

Please sign the petition, consider a donation, and pass the word. Watch the story of the Subway Inn and Salinas family here:



If you would like to make a plea to the source, the CEO of the World Wide real estate group, the new owner of Subway Inn, is Victor Elmaleh. His corporate contact information is:

World Wide Holdings Corp.
150 East 58th Street
New York, NY 10022
212-500-7217

Brazenhead Books

Brazenhead Books is one of the great secrets and wonders of today's New York, an anomaly in a Manhattan ruled by the obvious and the dull. Run by long-time bookseller Michael Seidenberg, it is a speakeasy bookshop housed in an undisclosed rent-stabilized Upper East Side apartment, complete with a twice-weekly salon. Jonathan Lethem has been a regular, along with many other bibliophiles who attend the salon for good company and conversations. Open to all, everyone--who can find the place--is invited.

But now Brazenhead may have to close its doors.



Seidenberg posted on his Facebook page last night, "Brazenhead Books turns its last page on October 31." They have lost their lease.

Dozens of fans and friends responded to the announcement with sadness and outrage, many vowing to fight the eviction. Please sign up on this list to get information on how to help Brazenhead.

Read more about Seidenberg and his secret bookshop at The New Yorker, listen to Conversations at Brazenhead at The New Inquiry, see more at Untapped Cities, and watch this beautiful video of what will be lost if something isn't done to save it:


There's No Place Like Here: Brazenhead Books from Etsy on Vimeo.

Preserving Classic New York Award

Thank you to the Friends of the Upper East Side Historic Districts for their Preserving Classic New York Award.

Gracie's Corner

Gracie's Corner diner, on First Avenue and 86th Street, is leaving its corner after decades in business.



Employees at the diner say the whole building is coming down, demolished for a new condo development. A sign on the shuttered pizza place next door reads, "Due to recent building events out of our control, we have amicably accepted to leave this location."



A reader writes in with some good news: "Gracie's Diner bought the Viand Diner a block over on 2nd & 86th. It's already renamed Gracie's on 2nd." So, after a shuffle, it's goodbye old Gracie's, goodbye Viand, and hello new Gracie's.

In the end, the city is down one diner and up another luxury condo tower.

Save Jim's Shoe Repair

Last month, I wrote about the forced closing of Jim's Shoe Repair, a beloved fourth-generation business that has been on E. 59th Street since 1932. The story has since appeared on Fox 5 News, and this week Jim's was named by Time Out one of the best shoe repair places in the city.

Jim's landlord, S.L. Green, is denying them a new lease and handing their space over to Walgreens, so the neighboring Duane Reade can expand its already large, block-through space. Once again, sky-high rents and the chaining of New York is pushing out our local culture.

Please sign (and share) this petition to save Jim's.



If you'd like to do more, please write to S.L. Green, letting them know you want Jim's to stay. Write to them electronically by clicking here, or via regular mail:

S.L. Green
420 Lexington Avenue
New York, NY 10170
Tel: 212-594-2700

You can also write to Walgreens and tell them you don't want them taking over Jim's. Write to them electronically by clicking here. Or via regular mail:

Walgreen Co.
200 Wilmot Road
Deerfield, IL 60015

Or write directly to the Duane Reade store in question:

41 E 58th St.
New York NY 10022
Tel: 212-421-4880


Sample texts--feel free to edit, etc.:

Dear S.L. Green:

It has come to my attention that you have denied a lease renewal to your long-time tenant Jim's Shoe Repair on East 59th Street. Jim's is a beloved fourth-generation business that has been on this block since 1932. I understand that Duane Reade will be expanding into Jim's space. As a New Yorker, I am tired of seeing corporate chains take over our small mom-and-pops. Duane Reade and Walgreens already take up enough of the city's real estate. I'm writing to ask that you negotiate a new lease with Jim's, at a fair price and for a significant length of time.

Sincerely,
X



Dear Walgreens:

Your Duane Reade store #14117, located at 41 East 58th Street, is scheduled to expand its 59th Street frontage, taking over the space currently occupied by Jim's Shoe Repair. Jim's is a beloved fourth-generation business that has been on this block since 1932. If your store expands, Jim's will be out of business. As a New Yorker, I am tired of seeing corporate chains take over our small mom-and-pops. Duane Reade and Walgreens already take up enough of the city's real estate. I'm writing to ask that you back out of this plan and do not take over Jim's space.

Sincerely,
X

Subway Inn

Recently, EV Grieve asked, "Should we start worrying about the Subway Inn?"



The Real Deal reported that the development firm World-Wide Group, owners of the Subway Inn's building, just made another big purchase on the block, adding 155 E. 60th to their growing parcel, which includes numbers 143 (home of Subway Inn), 145-147, 149, 151 and 153.

We wonder what it means. Surely, the global corporation plans to knock it all down and put up a giant glass sarcophagus in which to bury the soul of this block.

Gothamist asked the owner's son, who said, "We're not worried about it anytime soon. As far as we know, everything is good." However, "We're probably going to end up moving somewhere else pretty close in the area. But right now it's not a concern, so we're not looking right now."



I made a trip up to the beloved dive bar, on 60th Street near Lexington since 1937, where it still sports one of the most splendid neon signs in town.

The bartender I talked to had the same noncommittal response, saying, "We've been 'closing' for nine years now, but it hasn't happened yet." He had a Zen-like, living-in-the-moment attitude, just taking it easy, one day at a time. "We could close as early as a few months, or it could be years from now. You never know."

What does it mean? Nothing and everything. The short answer is: Yes, worry. But go while you can, have a few drinks, soak up the atmosphere. Tomorrow, it could be gone.



In 1997, New York magazine included the bar in their Best of New York, summing it up this way, "If someone lit up a cigar in here, it would be an old bald guy reading the Post, not some yuppie talking Dow after the final bell." 

At the right time of day nothing has really changed. While Friday nights bring in a loud party crowd (atomic wings!), and a few affluent locals "sneak in" now and then, the bar caters mostly to after-work folks--with the usual 6:00 rush, followed by an 11:00 rush when the restaurant workers pour in. In the daytime, though, you can still find an old bald guy reading the Post, but no cigar.

And the best time to go (if you like your dive bars quiet)? Sunday afternoon.