A Good Sign: Price Wise Discount Center

In Glendale, Queens. Nice, fading, hand-painted sign. I like the choice of font for the words near the bottom.

A Good Sign: Wolf Jewelers

Wolf Jewelers is on Myrtle Avenue in Glendale, Queens. I have read an account that it was founded in 1982. With that sign? With that awning? No way. I'd say 1950s, though I have no evidence to back that up.

New Restaurant Takes Von Westernhagen Space in Glendale

Back in June came the horrible news that Von Westernhagen, the venerable old Glendale German restaurant, had been sold by the owning family, after 46 years in business. It's been empty since then. But now there's a sign in the window telling that the building will soon be home to "Edison Place. Your friendly neighborhood restaurant and bar. January 2011." It would be nice, and wise, if the new owners keep the classic bar area intact. The dining hall was not so priceless. I'm sure they're gutting it.

Von Westernhagen Restaurant, German Holdout in Glendale, Is Sold

I only just devoted a "Who Goes There?" column to it in April. And now Von Westernhagen is maybe for the drop.

Queens Crap, who was tipped off by a read who talked to the bartender, sent me the news that the restaurant had been sold. It is unclear if this marks the end for the German eatery, or if the new owners will continue the tradition. There is apparently some kind of party on June 19.

Cursed be me that I live in New York during the era in which its soul is willfully dismantled.

Lost City's looking for the exit.

Wooden Phone Booth Sighting: Von Westernhagen's

Last week, upon walking into the old Glendale German restaurant Von Westernhagen's my eyes were nearly yanked out of my head by the unexpected sight of a wooden phone booth. Von Westernhagen's is only 46 years old. One doesn't expect a restaurant rounded in 1964 to have a wooden phone booth. A phone booth, yes, but not a wooden one.

Unfortunately, the booth is not is working order. The phone company pulled out the phone some time ago. The restaurant is looking to see the booth.

Previous Wooden Phone Booth Sightings

Karl Ehmer Loses a Host

Last fall, I was in Glendale, Queens, and saw this charming little deli on Myrtle Avenue, right across the street from the restaurant Zum Stamtisch. As you can see, they feature the meats of Karl Ehmer, which is made right in nearby Ridgewood.

Well, I hadn't been able to get back to the neighborhood until this week, and this is what I found. Closed up. From the looks of the posters in the window, it shuttered right after the Super Bowl. Inside, it's empty. Glendale loses another remnant of its German past.

Here's the saddest part. Look inside the door and you can see the deli was so devoted to Ehmer products that the Ehmer logo was embedded into the floor.

Lost City Asks "Who Goes to Von Westernhagen's?"

I remember, last fall, just before I went in to Glendale's German restaurant Zum Stammtisch to discover "Who Goes There?," looking down the road to its rival eatery Von Westernhagen's and feeling sorry for it. Zum sits right on a busy intersection. There's foot traffic. Von W, though only a block or so away, might as well be on a country lane. It stands there by its lonesome, no businesses to the left or right of it. I liked the place on first sight and vowed I would return soon to Glendale (two trains and bus ride for me) to pay a call. 

So which is better, Zum or Von W? Hard to say. Zum's food is probably a notch above, but Von W. has homemade bratwurst in its favor. Zum's atmosphere is cozy, but also a bit theme-parky. Von W. has no pretensions, and puts you immediately at ease. Simply put, Zum feels like a fun restaurant, but Von W. feels like a home that also serves strangers food. I like them both, but Von W. has my heart.

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A Good Sign: SOS Liquors

In Glendale, Queens. A question though: is it a good idea to call a liquor store SOS?

Lost City Asks "Who Goes to Zum Stammtisch?"

Zum Stammtisch has got to be one of the happier finds in my experience writing "Who Goes There?" for Eater. Not being a habitue of Glendale, I did not know of its existence until recently. Seeing the remnant of a German enclave around the neighborhood, I started asking people if there was a good German restaurant around? Everyone replies "Zum Stammtisch" without missing a beat.

Who Goes There? Zum Stammtisch

The name of this 37-year-old German chow hall may cause the stranger to pause before attempting the treacherous pronunciation, but it rolls like browned butter off the tongues of the aging German and Polish-Americans of Glendale and Ridgewood, Queens, who call this dark-timbered, antler-strewn restaurant their second home. Middled-aged and elderly regulars lumber and totter happily through the front doors. They find the patience needed for the seemingly endless wait to be acknowledged by the busy waitresses and shown a booth in the main dining room's tight, quarter-circle of coziness. They then settle down for a feed that could last anywhere from 90 minutes to three hours.

Most of the patrons look more like well-padded Midwesterners than New Yorkers. The women are largely blonde. The men have a woodsy, lumberjack-like look. Moustaches are plentiful, canes are common, and pendulous bellies abound. A septuagenarian comes in wearing a thick blue and white sweater with reindeer on it. In the corner booth, a ring of zesty old ladies are having a boisterous meal out. The walker belonging to one of them waits for her by the bar, and the waitress brings it over when its time to go. All uncomplainingly make the evidently arduous journey up and down the stairs to the bathroom.

One can't blame any of these happy grazers for feeling laden or sluggish. Zum Stammtisch fully commits itself to German cuisine at its fullest. You can not eat light here. You just can't. The meal doesn't begin with bread; it begins with a small loaf of bread, a knife thrust in its center. There's herring, there's goulash, there's wurst. The one listed salad is made up of nine components, including potatoes. Every fish come with sides of home fries. Entrees, like the popular, mushroom-smothered, veal Jägerschnitzel, are tripled-sized, almost ensuring a several-pound doggie bag. (It is assumed you will want to take the leftovers with you; when I hesitated, my waitress regarded me with a doubtful expression until I knuckled under and changed my mind.)

All these things are dangerously delicious, by the way. Beer (in glass, big glass, or glass boot) is the natural accompaniment. Hacker Pschorr, in several expressions, is proudly served—and advertised; the ribbons bearing the beer's blue and white colors, lit from within by white Christmas lights, are gayly draped from the ceiling like New Year's Eve decorations. They draw your eyes to the cute kitsch that line the walls: steins and tapestries, a poster for the upcoming 81st Edelweiss Ball, a the large moose head that wears a tiny Tyrolean hat.

Zum Stammtisch was founded in 1972 by John Lerner, a German immigrant. It's now run by his sons, Hans and Werner. The day I ate, the other dining room had been let out to a funeral party. As there is a funeral parlor across the street, I'm guessing this happens often. It was a jolly wake. Lots of laughter. There's a long red banquette that lines one end of the bar that divides the two dining rooms—more invited, winter's-night snugness. Hung mid-bar is a framed list of ten items, all written in German. I ask the bartender, a tall, goateed man wrapped in several yards of white shirt, what the sign is. "It's the rules of the bar," he says. What are they? "I don't know. I don't speak German."
—Brooks of Sheffield

Previous "Who Goes There?" Columns

Lunch in English, Dinner in Polish

So, tell me something about this sign is a diner window in Glendale, Queens? Why is the Hot Lunch advertised in English, but the Hot Dinner ("Gorace Obiaby") advertised in Polish? ("Na Wynos," by the way, apparently means "take away.")

A Good Sign: Joe Fuoco's Music Center

In Glendale, Queens.