09.07.07
Posted in All-U-Can-Eat, Jewish, Lower East Side, Manhattan, Meats, New Jersey, Pickles, Sandwiches at 7:06 am by Administrator
I try not to spread the rumors I hear in my cab. These are just schlubs I pick up off the street, and I usually have no way to corroborate their stories. The internet is a powerful weapon which, according to my America Online Terms Of Service Agreement that I e-signed in 1994, I have sworn to use responsibly.
But I heard a particularly nasty rumor a little while back that I just had to investigate. I heard that Katz’s Deli is going to be turned into luxury condos. “No no no, you got it all wrong,” I retorted when those words violated my ear holes. “They’re turning the parking lot and Yarakovsky’s container store across the street into condos. That’s already happening.” My brain wouldn’t allow me accept the possibility that it might be true. But my fare told me that he’d read it in Time Out New York, and if James Oliver Curry says it. . .
Apparently, the plan is to close down Katz’s (for the first time since 1888), build condos on top, and then reopen Katz’s underneath. To me, this is terrifying. This is like the “grandma is on the roof” joke. They are setting me up to to let me down easy. So that I won’t just wake up one day and find Katz closed forever, the way 2nd Avenue Deli met its demise not so long ago.
(A close up of Katz’s as it has been for well over a century)
(A wider shot reveals the luxury condo trend on the LES visible just a block away on Orhard, and this shot was taken from the luxury condo construction site mentioned above)
No luxury condo on earth would allow a stinky deli on its ground floor. I think it’s a New York State Law that if there’s anything other than a bank on the retail level of a luxury condo, it’s got to be a Whole Foods.
Guss Pickles as we know it ended the same way. One day, the building’s owner decided to make luxury condos out of the Essex Street location. One morning, they went to open up the store and there was a lock on the gate and an eviction notice. Guss had to move to Orchard Street, but the joke’s on the gentrifiers because I guarantee that first floor will still smell like full sours for at least a decade. Katz’s smell, however, won’t linger if they tear the whole structure down to make way for high rise with floor to ceiling windows on every floor (which look great from the inside, but is starting to make the Lower East Side look like a suburban office park).
I decided to go into Katz’s Deli to do a little snooping . . . and eating. It was late on a weeknight, so there was no line. I walked straight up to that old meat cutter with the white hair and the tatooed forearms (if you eat at Katz’s you know who I’m talking about). As he made me my reuben, I made small talk (and made sure that he saw me put a dollar in that upside down paper cup that acts as a tip jar on the Lower East Side). His name, I found out after eating the meat he cut me for 10 years, is Peter. He’s Russian, and he’s worked at Katz for longer than Bernie was a Yankee.
“So . . . what’s the deal with this luxury condo business?” I asked as if I were Jerry Seinfeld setting up a joke. I wanted him to look at me like I was crazy. I wanted him to flick his wrist and wave his knife dismissively. I wanted him to say that it was just a rumor, a dirty, rotten lie.
But he didn’t. His face dropped. His eyes narrowed. And as he pushed a slice a warm pastrami across the counter for me to nibble, he leaned in and motioned for me to do that same. “You have no idea the amount of money these people are dealing in. . . No idea,” he said in a hushed tone. “But they don’t tell us nothing. It might be a condo with the deli on the bottom. It might be a condo with a lobby on the bottom. It might stay the way it is. They don’t tell us nothing. But you have no idea . . . no idea the amount of money.”
Now, I’ve had more powerful religious experiences at Katz’s than I’ve had at my synagogue. I’ve never felt more Jewish – or more at peace with the world for that matter – than I did while eating my first Katz’s reuben, alone, facing one of the only blank spots on the wall. If Katz’s closes, I may consider moving out of New York. That, or become a Buddhist.
So with the possibility of Katz’s closing, and 2nd Avenue Deli and Pastrami Queen as much a part of New York history as the Checker Cab, I was in the market for a new deli. I’d already heard about this place in New Jersey called Harold’s from an college friend who used to eat at Katz’s with me. Then an old New Yorker in my cab told me Harold’s was the real deal. When I heard a couple of gay Puerto Rican thugs from Newark with their elderly Jewish trick on the Christopher Street Pier announce loudly that they were all going to Harold’s, it was the last straw. It was time for me to branch out.
(Harold’s immediately gets old school cred for the skyline on the sign)
On my last trip down the NJTP I pulled off at exit 10. And there my faith was restored. I found Harold’s everything I’d hoped for and more.
First of all, everything there is oversized. And I don’t just mean oversized the way the way white girls wear their plastic belts in Williamsburg. I mean oversized the way Barry Bonds’ head is oversized. One slice of cake is the size of an entire cake anywhere else:
And, as Harold’s sign boast, in this case “bigger is better.” My pastrami sandwich was delicious. It was moist and tender, fatty without being chewy, with a tempurature like warm apple pie. New Yorkers often claim it’s the city’s water that makes their food so special, so it can’t be duplicated in New Jersey. Granted, I like Katz’s more. And both 2nd Ave Deli and Pastrami Queen were better. So I guess I’m lowering the bar now that the pickin’s are slimmer. Either way though, Harold’s pastrami made me very, very happy.
Harold’s pickles made me even happier though. I’d heard that they had the world’s largest and only free pickle bar. But I assumed that that too was a rumor. A FREE pickle bar?!? Sounded too good to be true.
But there it was, as plain as the Jewish nose on my face. And the pickles were great. New pickles, half sours, full sours (although they call them half sours, sours, and kosher dills as though the others are not kosher and don’t have dill which I think they are and they do). The pickles were almost all crunchy. Not a mushy bloater in the bunch. And the health salad, hot cherry peppers, spicy pickle chips, and pickled tomatoes were all delicious as well. When the sandwich came, a small bowl of completely gratuitous cole slaw came with it, but it ended up being one of the highlights of the meal.
I made more trips to the pickle bar than was appropriate, but at Harold’s it is a culture of abundance and no one batted an eyelash. In fact, the menu encourages sharing at no extra cost. Melissa and I shared one “small” pastrami sandwich, and by the time we left the table we were stuffed. We each got a Dr. Brown’s, we brought home left-over pickles from the bottomless pickle bar along with extra rye bread to go with the extra sandwich and a half worth of left-over pastrami, and the whole thing cost $25 including the tip.
Katz’s will close one day. And I’ve come to terms with that. Maybe there won’t be condos. Maybe there will be condos. But I will most likely see Katz’s shutter its doors before the end of my life. So when that happens, there will be a lot less of this:
And a lot more of this:
Harold’s New York Deli Restaurant, Exit 10 on the NJ Turn Pike, Follow The Signs To Raritan Center until after the clover leaf under the highway, Take a left onto the street where you see the Holiday Inn and Harold’s in the back
Five Borough Food Tourism at FamousFatDave.Com for Katz’s and much more
(On the clock at Katz’s)
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07.28.07
Posted in Famous Fat Dave's Five Borough Eating Tours, Pickles at 3:12 am by Administrator
Gary Sweet from Nine Network Australia’s “Things To Try Before You Die” asked me to take him for the one food on my tour that I would say he absolutely had to taste before he died. That’s like asking me to choose which one of my children I love best (I don’t have any children, but if I did, I’d love my second born best). So I took him to Guss Pickles on the Lower East Side to taste a spicy new pickle with my old boss Tim, because
A. It’s delicious
B. To me, there is nothing more New York than a pickle
C. Tim is a legend
and
D. I used to work there, so I’m loyal
To watch the episode click here, and then click the red “Watch Video” carrot on the right side beneath the www.famousfatdave.com link and above the pic of two yellow cabs (you need Internet Explorer 6)
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05.02.07
Posted in Belmont, Bronx, Cannoli, City Island, Famous Fat Dave's Five Borough Eating Tours, Fruits and Veggies, Hunt's Point, Italian, La Pizza, Pelham Bay, Seafood, Sweets at 5:47 am by Administrator
ABC News Now just aired a piece on my famous “Boot Of The Bronx” eating tour, one of the countless, customized, culinary tours I have to offer over at FamousFatDaveDotCom. We got Oprah’s camera man (!) and took a wild romp through The Bronx chowing down on Italian food the whole way through.
Unfortunately, they cut a scene showing those delicious Little Neck Clams Possilipo at Artie’s in City Island. But they’ve got great shots of the broccoli rabe at Fratelli’s in Hunt’s Point, the fried calzone at Louie and Ernie’s in Pelham Bay, the Italian Ice next door at Teresa’s, and the cannoli at Madonia Brothers on Arthur Ave. Classic food porn. Enjoy.
Click here for the story.
Click here for the video of “The Boot Of The Bronx Tour” With Famous Fat Dave
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04.29.07
Posted in Astoria, Bronx, Famous Fat Dave's Five Borough Eating Tours, Fruits and Veggies, Hunt's Point, Italian, La Pizza, Manhattan, Middle Eastern, Queens at 7:38 pm by Administrator
The Famous Fat Dave experience has managed to attract a good deal of media attention. But until this morning, none of the stories delved into my psyche or explored my passion. Mark Phillips (the musical genius behind the pop sensation Sono Oto) worked for months on a New York Public Radio story that aired on WNYC 93.9’s “Weekend Edition.” Mark tagged along on a couple eating tours, rode shot gun in my yellow cab picking up fares late at night, and ate a LOT of food with me. In just four minutes and forty seconds, he manages to capture the essence of what I do, why I do it, who I am, and why I love this town.
You can listen to the New York Public Radio piece and download the mp3 here
Or you can listen on Www.FamousFatDave.Com by clicking here
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02.09.07
Posted in Brooklyn, Caribbean, Fruits and Veggies, Latino, Posts For Gothamist, There's A Beverage Here Man, Williamsburg at 5:46 am by Administrator
Mister Cutlets is somewhat of a role model for me . . . maybe even a father figure. We are both food writers. We are both lovers of meat puns (his book is called “Meat Me In Manhattan” and my last post was about a place with the motto “Let’s Meat At Sahara.“) We’ve both appointed ourselves absurd nicknames. And we both find it appropriate, even though neither one of us is a super hero as far as I can tell, to take on theme songs (”With the bacon and the lamb chops and the scrapple and the ham hocks, Mister Cutlets spend some time with me” written by Life In A Blender West versus “Pickles! Salami! Dumplings! Pastrami! Take a look, grab a bite, put it in your tummy!” written by Jack Dolgen of Sam Champion before, mind you, he ever heard that phenomenal Mister Cutlets theme song.)
So I take very seriously what Mister Cutlets writes. And a couple of weeks back, when blogging on Grub Street about the new Saveur 100, he declared that he was “shocked – shocked – to discover that just two entries cited the New York food scene.” These two entries, Mister Cutlets’ headline claimed, are “The 2% of the Saveur 100 That Matters.” One was about a Brookyn spot I’d never heard of. The other was about me.
Being 50% of the 2% of the Saveur 100 that mattered to Mister Cutlets was quite an honor for me. I was surprised to find that Mister Cutlets himself wrote one of the blurbs in the Saveur 100, and it was about a New Orleans oyster loaf, a good 1300 miles south and west of New York. Still, I felt like Michael Corleone must have when he shot McClusky and The Turk . . . kinda.
So I thought I’d better go taste the other half of the 2% that matters. Had I not, it would have been like never meeting my half brother. I was drawn to it by something greater than just my fat belly. I was following my heart across the East River.
Saveur describes it as a Dominican juice drink called Morir Sonando (To Die Dreaming) at Reben Lucheonette in Williamsburg. Fresh-squeezed orange juice, condensed milk, sugar, and vanilla syrup are all shaken with ice. The folks behind the counter seemed almost as proud as me when I showed them the magazine:
Even though I’d taken a thousand fares to Williamsburg and no one ever recommended Reben, I had a good feeling I was about to experience something great. I was right. The drink was absolutely delicious. And the guys behind the counter were as friendly as could be. I knew I’d found a new stop to take people on eating tours.
The Morir Sonando was refreshing and sweet. The flavor was so pleasing it made my shoulders slump and my eye lids droop shut when it hit my lips. I could clearly see why they call it To Die Dreaming.
The guys behind the counter didn’t speak much English, and my Spanish is spotty at best, but I did understand them saying “Top 100 in Brooklyn” as they looked at the magazine. I told them, “No, no solomente Brooklyn.” “Oh, todos de Nueva York?” one of them said excitedly. “Todo el mondo,” I corrected him.
Now they were thrilled. The counter man who seemed most interested in the whole thing informed me the drink was exactly as it had been for 45 years. Only the price had changed, and he showed me the original price hidden behind a construction paper cut out:
(I think that means it is actually less expensive now than it was 45 years ago if you adjust for inflation)
When I told them that I too was featured in the magazine, and that according to Mister Cutlets, we were the only ones that mattered, they got even more excited. And everyone crowded around to read my blurb with a genuine enthusiasm that struck me as almost childlike in its sincerity. I was touched.
I left Reben Luncheonette with a slight sense of euphoria as a result of the Morir Sonando. I also felt a sense of brotherhood with my new friends behind the counter. And hopefully, I made Mister Cutlets proud.
As published in Gothamist.com
Reben Luncheonette, Hevemeyer btwn Broadway and South 5th Street, Williamsburg, Brooklyn
Visit FamousFatDave.Com for Five Borough Eating Tours
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02.01.07
Posted in Brooklyn, Fruits and Veggies, Gravesend, Meats, Middle Eastern, Posts For Gothamist at 12:44 am by Administrator
You wouldn’t know it by looking at me, but I love salad. I enjoy it as an appetizer. I clean off my plate when it comes as a side. And, if it’s really tasty, I could be completely satisfied with salad as an entree.
However, meat, and plenty of it, is clearly what brings people to Coney Island Avenue and Avenue T. Sahara, which is open extremely late into the night, is packed every evening even though it is not cheap. Russians come up from Brighton Beach. Italians come over from Bensonhurst. Black cars parallel double park out front. The lot is usually full by dinner, and on the weekends Sahara is popular enough that they have to offer valet. Everybody in southern Brooklyn knows that Sahara is the place to go for a fix of tasty Turkish meat.
The mixed grill is nothing but winners. The plate is loaded down with shaved bits of meat off their lamb and beef “gyro,” crispy on one side, juicy on the other. The chicken kebab is grilled beautifully, leaving exactly the right parts charred and the right parts tender. And the lamb chop is delightfully greasy.
When I stop at Sahara on a tour, I usually show off Sahara’s shawarma (which they refer to as “gyro sandwich” even though they’re Turkish). Although the spacey grill man occasionally fills the pita with far too many vegetables on top so that the precious meat can’t be reached until after a few messy bites, I still consider it one of the best shawarmas in town.
So isn’t it ironic that Sahara serves my favorite salad on earth? It is called the Shepherd Salad, and it is genius in it’s simplicity. It consists of nothing more than cubed tomatoes and cucumbers along with some red onions and cilantro. The dressing, they tell me, is simply olive oil, salt, and vinegar. And it’s usually garnished with three or four black olives (unless you order it to go, in which case you get none, which is annoying). And every salad comes with soft, fluffy, chewy Turkish home bread that they bake there daily.
But I’m sure the main reason I’ve fallen so hard for Sahara’s Shepherd Salad is the cheese option. For an extra couple dollars, they’ll serve the salad with feta. This Turkish feta, however, is a creamier version than the crumbelievable Greek variety I’m used to. And, quite brilliantly, they SHAVE it rather than crumble it. The result is a salad with an even distribution of feta that makes every bite a sensation.
Yes, there is a giant, lit-up plastic gyro over the doorway. Yes, their slogan is “Let’s Meat At Sahara.” And, yes, I am, admittedly, an unreconstructed carnivore. But since I discovered Sahara’s Shepherd Salad, when I find myself on Coney Island Avenue, my mouth starts watering for salad.
As published in Gothamist.com
Visit www.famousfatdave.com for Five Borough Eating Tours: VEGGIE TOURS NOW AVAILABLE
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11.30.06
Posted in Brooklyn, Pickles, Posts For Gothamist, Soul Food at 6:30 pm by Administrator
No matter how you feel about Junior’s cheesecake, you gotta believe you’ll love their fried chicken smothered in barbeque sauce. Visit Gothamist today and read my column on:
Junior’s
Visit FamousFatDaveDotCom for a laugh and an eating tour
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11.03.06
Posted in Belmont, Bronx, Chinese, DC, Fruits and Veggies, Italian, New Jersey, Posts For Not For Tourists, Seafood, Sweets at 8:48 am by Administrator
I hope you’ve been checking in to Not For Tourist Guidebook every day. If you haven’t, may I suggest you do so today. Both the New York page (Randazzo’s Seafood in The Bronx) and the DC page (Roger’s Produce in Potomac, Maryland) have blurbs written by some crazy cabbie.
Also, I’ve missed a couple opportunities to link to my blurbs in the past few weeks, so you can belatedly click below for those as well.
Magic Fountain Ice Cream in New Jersey
Bethesda Co-Op in Bethesda, Maryland
Tony Cheng’s in Chinatown, DC
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