HUNGRY GERALD

The dictionary defines scungilli as “a large marine whelk or conch eaten as food.” Yes, this was a protein–in the form of salad or mixed with pasta smothered in super-hot red sauce–that was served in many old fashioned New York Italian restaurants during HG’s youth. The sea creature was pronounced “skoonjeel” and was delicious. Scungilli mostly disappeared from Manhattan menus and soon could be found in only two restaurants in Little Italy–traditional Vincent’s and upstart Umberto’s. In HG’s opinion the best fiery scungilli pasta dishes were found in a tiny Italian joint in Chinatown (corner Mott and Pell). HG ate there with two rugged Goodfellas who solicited HG’s promotional advice on how to improve sales at their legitimate front –a Staten Island furniture store. (Of course, scungilli was always available in Brooklyn, the Corona and Howard Beach neighborhoods of Queens and in the beloved Belmont Tavern, Belleville, New Jersey). Scungilli had its big moment of fame when gangster Crazy Joe Gallo was murdered at Umberto’s Clam House on April 7, 1972. (Scungilli, presumably, was on the table when he met his end.) Crime analysts have wondered why Gallo was dining at Umberto’s rather than the more traditional Vincent’s. HG has a theory: Joe was sentimental and his father, also a gangster, was named “Umberto.” Recently, a hungrygerald.com follower informed HG that there’s a very good Italian scungilli restaurant in Vero Beach, Florida. HG will keep it in mind if he ever ventures into Jeb Bush territory.

Of course, Little Italy in Manhattan (what’s left of it) is a dining shambles. Shoddy tourist traps that glorify fictionalized TV Mafiosi. Sure, Mario Carbone and Rich Torrisi have brought back quality to the neighborhood with Carbone, Parm and Torrisi Italian Specialties — essentially high priced, high concept homages to red sauce, Italian home cooking restaurants. These are meant for the Wall Street crowd and deep pocketed foodies. They don’t change the overall dismal ambience of the neighborhood. Octogenarian HG remembers (with fondness) the once excellent Grotto Azzura (a favorite with detectives and bail bondsmen); Luna (where Crazy Joey Gallo often dined); Angelo’s (once classy); Vincent’s (fiery scungili but HG always preferred the super spicy Italian seafood joint on the corner of Mott and Pell in Chinatown). There were also many small, cheap places in Little Italy where a meal of clams casino, spaghetti (big portion of very good tomato, meat or mushroom sauce), pitcher of cheap red wine cost very few bucks. These days if you want traditional New York Italian-American food served by gruff guys in maroon vests you’ve got to go to Staten Island; Brooklyn (Williamsburg, Bensonhurst, Coney Island); Queens (Corona, Ozone Park); The Bronx (Arthur Avenue). Little Italy? Fuhgeddabout it!!!

HG spent a week this last December wandering around the Lower East Side, Little Italy, Chinatown and parts of Soho. The LES is becoming more than cool. It’s frigid. Good little art galleries showing challenging work. Excellent restaurants and bars. It’s a venue for the hip and the beautiful. The old parts of Chinatown (the borders of Chinatown have expanded so massively into the LES and Little Italy that HG needs to define which parts of Chinatown HG is talking about) look a bit sad. Swathes of Mott Street have been taken over by stalls selling the worst kind of crap to tourists. Yes, it’s still a food obsessed community awash with fresh fish and vegetables (absurdly low prices). And, street life is lively. But, the neighborhood seems to lack some of the elan and zest of yesteryear (It may that HG is looking at it with the nostalgia clouded gaze of an old guy). Little Italy has been shrunken, vulgarized and totally touristified. Pity. Reports about old ethnic restaurants like Vincent’s, Umberto’s and Grotto Azzura are not promising. HG has been a great fan of the fiery scungili, shrimp and clam dishes that were once available in Little Italy. Now, if you desire food a la Diavalo, you’ve got to travel to Sheepshead Bay or Howard Beach. Foodies claim that Chinatown cuisine has gone downhill and if you want superior Chinese cooking the Flushing neighborhood of Queens is the place. Yes, there’s great food in Flushing. But, HG ate some superior Chinatown food while visiting at Peking Duck House, Dim Sum Go Go and Full House Cafe. It is still the New York neighborhood where the impecunious can dine for very few bucks. One of the hot items in Chinatown is peeled noodles. Basically, hand pulled noodles but cut into wide strips with a knife. HG had a big plate of these noodles with a super spicy lamb sauce at Xi’an Famous Foods (on Bayard west of Bowery). Fabulous. Cost six bucks. HG had a very good dish of peeled noodles with baby bok choy at Sheng Wang (on Eldridge). Cost five bucks. One night, HG and BSK were feeling peckish before settling down to watch some silly stuff on TV. HG walked down the block to J.J. Noodles (Catherine and Henry) and came back with two big containers of congee with fresh fish filets. Perfect comfort food. Cost eight bucks. Yeah, you can still get nourished in Chinatown.

It’s sad. Manhattan’s Little Italy used to be a great place to eat, drink and stroll. No more. Now it’s filled with tourist trap restaurants, tour buses and various kitschy pastiches of homage to The Sopranos,The Godfather and Goodfellas. Nonetheless, Vincent’s Clam House (now named the Original Vincents Restaurant) survives at the corner of Mott & Hester. This was an HG favorite (and a favorite of many men closely monitored by the FBI). Superb scungilli (sea snails) salad. Scungilli was always pronounced “skuhnjeel” and the salad was composed of the sliced snails, very good olive oil, abundant chopped garlic and a squeeze of lemon. HG would shake some hot pepper flakes over it. Skuhnjeel, shrimp and clams were also served over linguini in a fiery marinara sauce. Good stuff late at night. Especially after some heavy boozing at Lower East Side bars. Vincent’s was traditional, patronized by the Little Italy establishment and visited by police, politicians and rough and ready gourmands from all the boroughs (and Joisey). Then a competitor arrived on Mulberry Street in 1972 — Umberto’s. Brooklyn gangster Joe “Crazy Joey” Gallo visited the interloper on April 7, 1972 and absorbed many bullets which left him decidedly dead. There were theories, of course. One was that he had offended the proprieties of Mafia executives. Culinary theoreticians said the rub out was inspired by his abandoning Vincent’s for Umberto’s Well, Umberto’s still exists a few blocks north of it original location. The food has descended, HG hears, but it is an obligatory stop for tour buses. The eatery is well decorated with news stories of the Gallo hit.

HG’s favorite skuhnjeel and hot sauce joint was not in Little Italy but in Chinatown on the corner of Mott and Bayard, unlikely location for a very Italian place but it thrived for decades. HG was first invited there by two Made Men (as HG’s Mom would say: “Don’t ask!”). There was a polite inquiry: “Do you like it hot?” HG responded positively and was presented with a bowl of red sauced shrimp and linguini. HG was rendered speechless as sweat poured into his eyes and scorched mouth. The Made Men were amused. If you fancy Italian sea food in the tradition you can try Vincent’s in the Howard Beach section of Queens or Vincent’s in Carle Place, L.I. HG doesn’t know if either has any connection with the Little Italy original. And, if you want to do some skuhnjeel at home you can obtain the frozen variety (harvested off Rhode Island) from Ruggiero Seafood in Newark or you can still find it fresh in the fish markets in Arthur Avenue in the Bronx or in Chinatown on Grand Street between Eldrige and Forsyth. Ignore the canned stuff (mostly Asiatic snails) and too mushy.