HUNGRY GERALD

The coffee shop is a New York institution, a basic eating place for generations of busy New Yorkers. A place to meet. A place to wait for a movie to start. A place to finish a date over some chocolate cake. No, HG is not talking about the espresso cafes in Greenwich Village frequented by voluble intellectuals, pseudo and genuine. HG is talking about that blend of diner, restaurant, fast food dispenser and “greasy spoon” (an unfair description) unique to New York. HG doesn’t know whether they should be written about in the present or past tense since so many have been the victims of the real estate plague where neighborhood landmarks have been replaced by banks or retail chains. In any case, the coffee shops vivid in HG’s memory were owned by Jews or Greeks. If owned by Jews you could linger over coffee with a bialy, cream cheese, the Times and the News (plus a pack of Marlboros, of course). Greek places had excellent soups, superior hamburgers sizzled on the griddle and some Greek specialties (HG remembers with fondness platters of fried chicken livers and onions served over pilaf). Coffee shops served breakfast all day. BLT’s and tunafish sandwiches were staples. Coffee shops did not strive to scale culinary heights. Their emphasis was on speed and efficiency. Those cooks working behind the long counter could get a lunchtime crowd in and out in a hurry. Home made food, no pretensions, no minimum charge — a boon to New Yorkers through the decades.

Some hearty dishes, traditional in New York City diners and “coffee shops” of HG’s youth, seem to have disappeared or exist so far from the pubic’s imagination, that they might as well have been taken off the menu. These include: Liver and onions plus bacon (with a side of French fries or mashed potatoes). Pot roast with a pool of dark brown gravy. Corned beef and cabbage (plus boiled potatoes). Boiled knockwurst with sauerkraut. Hot turkey sandwich (sliced turkey on white bread slathered with lots of giblet gravy plus a scoop of cranberry sauce). Hot roast beef sandwich (like turkey but with brown gravy, a side of mashed potatoes and pallid string beans). These were all cheap, filling dishes. Young HG, not a fastidious fresser, found them delicious.

In one of the great quirks of the American immigrant experience (think Chinese laundries, Indian motel monopolies, Korean grocers, etc.) Greeks have long been the dominant force in New York and New Jersey’s numerous diners and coffee shops and, in fact, in inexpensive dining establishments throughout the U.S. and Canada. The domination is so ubiquitous that the iconic New York take-out coffee cup was long emblazoned with illustrations of classic Greek art and architecture. Unlike fancy Greek fish restaurants (or traditional Greek restaurants), these diners and coffee shops are not gourmet destinations or particularly ethnic, but places where you can get a fast, square meal at a fair price. New Jersey’s Tick Tock Diner (famed for its “Eat Heavy” motto) has been in the news lately. Owned by a Greek family, the Tick Tock has never been a favorite of HG. However, its proximity to the Lincoln Tunnel and Meadowlands sports and entertainment complexes has made it popular (location, location, location). The news interest in the Tick Tock now is a case of murder. It seems the manager (relative by marriage) felt ill used by the head of the family (and Tick Tock boss) and hired a hit man to torture and kill the guy. As is often the case, the hit man was an undercover cop (with a nicely functioning) recording device. Too bad for the manager. HG’s favorite Greek greasy-spoon operator was Chris, a sweet, hard working guy who–some 60 years ago– ran a hole in the wall operation in the old Daily Mirror building at 235 E. 45th Street in New York. Chris had a thick Greek accent. This made him a favorite of Dan Parker, the Mirror sports columnist, who would often quote Chris as part of his humorous riffs on dialect. Chris fed the impecunious journalists, lithographers, pressmen and others who worked in the building the inevitable “cheeburger, cheeburger, cheeburger.” But, Chris also turned out great fried scallops and fried flounder. Splendid greasy French fries. Chicken livers and onions on rice. Other good things. Not too many vegetables, unless you count cole slaw as a veggie.

As a side note, it is fascinating that some of America’s great regional cooking from Cincinatti Chili to Rhode Island’s New York System wieners to Detroit’s Coney Island Hot Dogs can be directly traced to the blending of classic American food and traditional Greek flavor profiles (middle eastern spices, etc.).