The Grandure of the 33rd Street Subway Stop

Most subway stations make you feel depressed and oppressed. They are dirty, crowded, filled with fetid air and not particularly attractive. A few raise your spirits.

I've always liked the 33rd Street Station on the 6 line, and am always surprised by its perhaps unintentional grandiosity whenever I climb down into it. It's a very low-sitting station and you have to descend a great flight of stairs to get to it. Nothing unusual there. Many subway stations lie far below the sidewalk. The difference here is that at 33rd Street you don't end up in a low-ceilinged, claustrophobic box, but in a spacious airy chamber with a great sense of flow and line.

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Sarge's Deli Gutted By Fire

Last night, Sarge's Deli in Murray Hill was gutted by fire. Eater reports: "The fire spread quickly through the ventilation ducts of the building into the apartments above the restaurant. Over 150 firefighters rushed to the scene." NYPD Deputy Chief Thomas McKavanagh told the Daily News, "The restaurant sustained some severe damage and will not be open for a while."

Along with Katz's, Stage and Carnegie, Sarge's is one of the oldest and most authentic Jewish delis in Manhattan. I profiled the place in this 2010 "Who Goes There?" column.

This Was La Petite Auberge

La Petite Auberge closed its doors last October after 34 years of selling old school French food and old school New York hospitality.  This is the space today. The awning is gone and, just as the owners promised, an Indian restaurant, Anjapper, is on the way. Can't see what they're doing inside, but last fall the owners told me this:

They like the walls, because they want to make something high end, a little different. I guess it's supposed to resemble an old country home from their part of India. They're going to get rid of the bar and open the windows in front so you can see through. But the walls are going to stay. That's real wood. You can't even put in a nail, it's so thick. 

Marchi's. An extra-long meal; an extra-long "Who Goes There?" column. Not a bad place to go at Christmastime. There's a tree, a million nutcrackers and they play Christmas music non-stop.

Merry Christmas, all!

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Lost City Asks "Who Goes to Sarge's Deli?"

Sarge's Deli in Murray Hill has been on my "Who Goes There?" list for some time. In an era when the few remaining classic Jewish delis in Manhattan have been transformed into tourist attractions known mainly for their high prices, sliding quality and political photo-ops, Sarge's is an encouraging example of a deli that just is. And after 50 years it has yet to shake off its salty, unburnished New York character. I credit its obscure location with this. If Sarge's had been on Broadway or 34th Street or Houston Street, it would have been ruined long ago. Here's my Eater column:

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Lost City Asks "Who Goes to Toledo?"

Now, Toledo really is a hidden mainstay, even by the terms of "Who Goes There?" It's 36 years old, but I've never met anyone who's went there, and never seen it written up. There's not one mention of it in the New York Times archive. Yet, there it sits, unworried, charging $50 for lobster tail. I can't afford this place. Maybe, if I'm feeling flush, I'll return, because I really liked the fish. But, really, it's a restaurant I want my boss, or rich uncle, to take me to and pick up the check.

Here's my Eater column:

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Clover Deli Needs a Light

The Clover Delicatessen neon sign—one of the most goddam gorgeous in the city—is in a sorry state. Half the letters, on both sides, are out. Below is the sign in better days. C'mon guys—get it together!

Lost City Asks "Who Goes to Villa Berulia?"

Readers have been urging me to make Villa Berulia in Murray Hill the subject of a "Who Goes There?" for more than a year. I finally made it there this week. I'll have to go back to get that Dalmatian stew.

Who Goes There? Villa Berulia

Villa Berulia, a white-tablecloth, lunch-and-dinner Italian restaurant run by Croatians, has been gathering little attention and much moss on E. 34th Street near Park for 30 years. Hiding in plain sight behind an almost anonymous facade, it's family run, and beloved by the older members of dignity-starved Murray Hill.

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Can a Parking Garage Be Beautiful?

Yes, I say!

As evidence, I present this handsome structure on E. 31st Street, near Third Avenue, a fine, six-story face of red brick interspersed with tooth-and-groove stripes of cream brick. The window are fine, with old wooden panes.

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A Good Sign: Clover Delicatessen

I've shot the great Clover before, but during the night. It's so beautiful, it's worth shooting in the day as well. Plus, a close-up as an added bonus!

The Best Digestif in New York

I was having lunch at the Second Avenue Deli on 33rd Street—matzo ball soup, side of fries, tea, pickle, cole slaw. Finished, I asked for the bill and then left to visit the restroom. When I returned, the bill was there. Also there was a little glass of chocolate-colored foam. "Is this an egg cream?" I asked. Yes, was the reply, "without the milk." (I had just eaten a meat meal.) I downed it in one go, like a whiskey shot. "I don't remember you doing that at the old place," I said. "We didn't," was the answer. "It's new to this place."

Best digestif in town.

FYI, the deli said their expected the new Second Avenue Deli, at First and 75th, to open in the fall, just after the High Holy Days.

A Good Sign: Clover Delicatessen

I was swinging around the southwest corner of 34th and Second Avenue the other night when, Bam!, this neon beauty hit me square between the eyes. The Clover Delicatessen. I had never known it had existed, but it's been there for more than 60 years. Both the north and east sides of the corner store are adorned with gorgeous signage in green and pink neon. The curly font of the "Clover" is especially appealing.

A Full Meal at Foltis-Fischer's

I never noticed this building on Park Avenue South near 28th Street before. Foltis-Fischer? Interesting name. What gives?

OK, this gives. Foltis-Fischer was the unlikely moniker of a restaurant chain. Sounds like a design house in the Garment District to me. It was owned by Constantine Foltis, a Russian immigrant who got his training at Childs. He bought out the Fischer chain of restaurants and attached his name (putting it first, of course). His ambition didn't take him far, however. The chain was out of business by the 1940s. The building on Park was built in 1930.

In Daniel Fuchs' novel "A Summer in Willaimsburg," a character named Tessie would rather have a "milkshake are Sherry's than a full meal at Foltis-Fischer's." I think I know what she means.

Chez Laurence Still Really, Really Closed

Chez Laurence, the throwback of a Murray Hill bistro that closed last April, remains as shuttered as a Roman palazzo. Super boarded-up. Can't see anything inside. No activity of any kind, and a nearby doorman knew of no new restaurant that was going to take up the space.

I miss this place. It was so much of another time. Another world, really. The French owners didn't give a fig for modern times. They did things in the slow, sometimes gracious, sometimes irritable way French bistros have always done things. They made their own pastries, which were pretty good, and took care with ordinary dishes like tuna salad. Plus old-school classics like cassoulet that you wouldn't expect from a place that basically looked like a tricked-out diner. Cuisine bourgeoise, as they say. The prices were fair and you could linger forever. No patron ever felt out of place or not good enough for the restaurant. Ah, me.