For the second in my new running feature at Eater.com, "Who Goes There?," I visited Fedora, one of the last untouched vestiges of post-War Greenwich Village. The door to that place is a time portal. I felt I was in another world entirely once inside, away from all the cares the world had produced over the last 40 years. Had a light snow been falling outside, the place couldn't have felt more protective and cozy. I was also lucky enough to witness the nightly entrance of Fedora herself, the event coming earlier—around 6 PM—than is usually the case. The woman is very motherly; it's probably no mistake that I ordered Manicotti and banana cream pie—the menu I often requested on my birthday when I was a child. (Sorry. Too much information, perhaps.) I do believe I will truly mourn when and if this restaurant ever closes.
i go to fedora! love that place--mildly depressing in a good way. it's been on my list for a while now--nice post.
ReplyDeleteI agree, Jeremiah. Mildly depressing. But oddly comforting as well. I could see waiting out a Nor'easter in there. Thanks for the comment.
ReplyDeleteI've been there, too. I love reading the clippings on the wall. Our waiter had to explain a bit about the people mentioned in the articles, as they were mostly obscure performers from Greenwich Village in the 50s. Did you see the bathroom? Oh my...
ReplyDeleteI've been going to Fedora's for years now. The place is rich with history, and it feels like nothing bad can ever happen to you while you're there. The recent hiatus has left me feeling like all is not right with the world. I wish my favorite lady a speedy recovery so I can once again revel in a space that provides me with such comfort and love.
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