HUNGRY GERALD

Yes, that was the descriptive phrase for heavy, high-cal, stratospheric cholesterol, cheap food devoured by HG in New York during his college days. A real belly buster was mofongo, found in Puerto Rican restaurants in East Harlem, South Bronx and Broadway in the 140’s. Mofongo consisted of mashed, fried plantains (green bananas) formed into a big dumpling shape and served in a bowl of broth with garlic, olive oil and cuchifritos (pork cracklings). HG also ate big bowls of thick skinned potato pierogi with sour cream in Polish restaurants on lower First Avenue and giant plates of ground pork stuffed cabbage at Ukrainian restaurants in the same neighborhood. In African-American Harlem, HG feasted on fried catfish and ribs with mac-and-cheese, gravy doused rice and greens enriched by ham hocks. In the Mott Haven neighborhood of The Bronx, Mom-and-Pop Italian restaurants served bowls of spaghetti with oil and garlic of a size designed to appease the appetite of guys who worked all days with their hands and strong backs. Prices for these aforementioned treats ranged from 75 cents to $1.75.

HG likes barbecued pork ribs. HG has consumed them in Texas, Georgia, North Carolina. HG has had great ribs in Memphis and SJ’s Brooklyn ribs. And, of course, HG has consumed many pounds in Chinese restaurants in New York and Vancouver. HG states that Exquisite Maiko’s ribs are a contender for the title of The Best. Spicy with an indefinable whiff of Japanese scent and flavor. No need for any sauce. Had them last night in PEI. EM marinated the ribs for two days in a mixture of sake, sesame oil, salt and pepper, ginger, garlic, marmalade, honey and an extraordinary secret — Gerber’s Baby Peach Puree. One would never guess. The Exquisite One served them with a big green salad and a very special side dish — edamame grilled in the oven with olive oil, sea salt and Japanese pepper. It was a Japanese version of ribs and beans, a dish HG often relished in Harlem during his college days. EM put nostalgia to rest. The EM version was infinitely better.

Harlem is making a comeback. In a big way. Marcus Saumelsson’s Red Rooster restaurant is a hit. (HG used to drink at the original Red Rooster bar on the Lenox Avenue site during HG’s college days. Then it was a hangout for Harlem intellectuals and artists). Harlem brownstones and condos are selling for millions. Gentrification isn’t happening, it has happened. HG remembers a much older Harlem. The main drag was 125th Street anchored by Blumstein’s Department Store. Harlemites didn’t go uptown to shop. They went to Blumtein’s even though the store didn’t hire African-Americans. It took a vigorous campaign by Adam Clayton Powell Jr. and Benjamin Davis Jr. (forgotten Communist New York City Councilman) to get Blumstein’s to integrate its workforce. The star restaurant on 125th Street was Frank’s. For most of its history, Frank’s wouldn’t serve African-Americans (with the exception of a few politicians and well known entertainers). Joe Louis, the great heavyweight champ (and a onetime publicity client of HG) changed all that. Louis would go to Frank’s with a big crowd of friends and hangers-on. Frank’s couldn’t say no to The Champ. HG lunched at the integrated Frank’s often in the 1950’s. Great steaks.

It may be forgotten, but New York was a viciously racist city in the 1950’s. HG was a journalist at that time and remembers riding with a police official on Central Park South. The policeman spotted an African-American man walking on the street. He pulled over the car and shouted at him: “What are you doing here? You don’t belong here. Get back to Harlem.” The humiliated man walked away rapidly. Did ultra-liberal, leftist HG protest? No. The cop was a top source. So HG kept his mouth shut. HG is still ashamed.

Joy. HG read with delight Sam Sifton’s glowing NY Times review of Marcus Samuelsson’s Harlem restaurant, Red Rooster. This is the restaurant Harlem needed. This is the restaurant New York needed. Obviously, it’s got the sparkle and buzz and energy that only a truly diverse scene can create. Yeah. HG wants oxtails and shrimps and grits and fried chicken. More than that, HG wants to people watch and be happy. As HG’s devoted followers know, HG fell in love with Harlem more than 60 years ago (the old Red Rooster is where HG had a beer before getting on the subway). Harlem’s comeback is thrilling. HG is sure music, dance, galleries, alternative theater will all be happening. It needed a visionary like Samuelsson to get it started. Now, let’s have a revival of the great Bronx promenade, the Grand Concourse. Best art deco apartment houses in New York. Any Latino adventurers out there who want to do a soulful Puerto Rican brasserie?