HUNGRY GERALD

Elaine Kaufman is gone. Never liked the restaurant. Never liked the food. But, I liked Elaine. A Bronx product like HG, Elaine, as you know, made her restaurant, Elaine’s, a show biz and writer hangout. Never cared about looking at celebs (Two exceptions: Cary Grant at the Plaza Oak Room personifying joie d’vivre and style; Jackie Onassis at the Four Seasons,a lady who knew how to dress and how to walk). Certainly never wanted to talk to writers (Rather read ’em than meet ’em). My favorite writer is Philip Roth (And is there no justice..why doesn’t he have a Nobel?). Whenever I saw him in New York (At the Barney Greengrass sturgeon emporium) he looked as if he was in the midst of a nervous breakdown). I had to go to Elaine’s in my capacity as PR man for various real estate biggies including the late Sam LeFrak. Elaine graduated from Evander Childs High School (my late brother Bernard was a football star there). I once greeted her: “Ah,the shapely Evander alumna.” She replied: “Too goddam much shape,if you ask me.” Last time I saw Elaine was early this year in New York. I had just finished a Saturday lunch at Le Veau d’Or with my favorite dining companion,son Jeremy. Veau d’Or is frozen in time. Nothing has changed in 40 years. Same little bar at the entrance. Same faux leather banquettes. Same host/owner, the oldest Frenchman in New York. Menu is a list of golden oldies. As Jeremy left to take care of business Elaine walked in. She looked awful but was still full of brassy life. I sat down at her table and drank cognac for a few hours as we deflated some reputations and lamented the loss of favorite restaurants.We agreed that Veau d’Or was symbolic of a New York that had just about disappeared and it was our duty to keep the flickering flame alive. Okay,Elaine, I’ll be in New York in a few weeks and I’ll raise a few glasses in your memory.