What's Up With Gino?

OK, so Gino's isn't closing on Dec. 31, as previously reported.

On Dec. 26, I picked up a report from Eater, which picked it up from the NY Post, that the age-old, red sauce joint on Lexington—which has been suffering from union and recession woes—would shutter on New Year's Eve. So I called to make a reservation for tomorrow. Only the lady who answered said they weren't closing tomorrow, Dec. 31. Just closing early. Then they would be open again on Jan. 1.

Huh? But the Post reported they would fold on Dec. 31. No, said the lady: Jan. 31. So I hung up and checked the Post article. Indeed it said Jan. 31. But I remember looking at that article, and it said Dec. 31. And Eater's pick-up article still says Dec. 31. Did the Post make an error? Did they correct it online without making a note of it at the bottom of the article?

Anyway, I'm glad Gino's is still open for another month.

Gino's to Close on Dec. 31

Say goodbye to this familiar yellow door.

Eater reports that the New York Post reports that the 64 year-old Upper East Side restaurant Gino's will close on Dec. 31. The word came from a union rep. The restaurant has been grappling with its union over a new contract for some time.

Reports surfaced this month that the troubled Gino would be saved as a white-knight buyer rode in to scoop up the joint, famous for its zebra wallpaper and old-school dishes like veal parmigiana and chicken cacciatore.

But Dell'Aguzzo told The Post this week a buyer has not materialized and that the Lexington Avenue eatery will not survive.
Co-owner Salvatore Doria told The Post he couldn't talk about details of the restaurant's problems.

"In a few weeks, we'll know exactly what's the story," he said. "The place is known worldwide. It's a piece of Manhattan. The problem is the economy."

Dell'Aguzzo believes the owners of Gino floated the notion of a buyer so workers would stay on for one last Christmas season before the inevitable closing.

The union and management have been fighting since October, when the workers' contract expired and they balked at a request to pay half their health insurance and pension in a new pact.

Dell'Aguzzo said he was told that because of the economy, the owners wanted to sell but couldn't because of the labor contract.

News that the restaurant is on its deathbed left longtime patrons distraught.

"There's a general sadness and disbelief; it's a great tragedy," said Allen Falcona, 77, a patron since 1957.
"It will have a huge effect upon a lot of customers, who come daily and sometimes twice a day."

I'm glad I took the time to have lunch there last week. Perhaps I will return before Thursday. I can't say. This is hard to take, and hard to believe. Is there any business in New York that New Yorkers truly care enough about to fight for? Or are we all just too defeated at this point.

Gino's Still on Tenterhooks

I had lunch at Gino's restaurant today. Figured I oughta while I have the chance, because who knowsif it will be around after New Year's.

Attendance was sparse. A few full tables. A lady in an enormous, donut-shaped fur hat that everyone kept complimenting out of politeness. Two tables talked about how they used to go to Gino's all the time. At the bar, old men, evidently well familiar with each other, drank wine and talk volubly in Italian, occasionally breaking in Italian song. Seemed like a small family reunion. The maitre d' perched halfway on a stool gazing affectionately/dolefully out at the diners.

I asked my waiter if the white knight talked about in the press had decided to buy and save the place yet. "We don't know," he said. "The knight, his carriage, it is stuck." The hat check woman said roughly the same thing: no news. Hm. In the Times article, it said owner Michael Miele would know "everything" by Dec. 18. Jesus. Wait to the last minute, why not?

FYI, my veal cutlet parmigiana was very good.

Egad! New Owner for Gino's?!

I have added Gino's to the "Endangered" list in my "Bring Out Your Dead" tally.

From City Room:

Potential Buyer Is Found for Gino

By ANDREW KEH

For more than 60 years, regulars have gone to Gino, an old fashioned red-sauce joint on the Upper East Side, for veal parmigiana, chicken cacciatore, and zebras.

The veal and chicken are reliable staples on a menu that has not changed much since the restaurant opened in 1945; the famous zebras appear on the wallpaper of a dining room that has over the years accommodated its share of celebrity clientele — Ed Sullivan and Frank Sinatra are said to have been regulars — and even made a celebrity cameo itself in the opening scene of Woody Allen’s 1995 film “Mighty Aphrodite.”

But Gino could be in danger of closing, employees said this week, because the restaurant’s owners and unionized workers have failed to reach an agreement on a new contract.

The restaurant’s only lifeline now appears to be a potential buyer who was unexpectedly revealed by the current owners in a Thursday morning meeting that workers originally thought would signal the start of closing proceedings.

The workers’ last contract expired Oct. 31. Since then, the two sides have met six times to try to negotiate a new agreement, said Marco Dell’Aguzzo, the shop steward, who has worked as a waiter at Gino for 24 years.

As late as Wednesday night, employees of Gino seemed resigned to the fact that the restaurant would close by the end of this month. Earlier in the week, they rejected a final proposal from Michael Miele, one of the restaurant’s owners. But in the meeting Thursday morning, Mr. Miele surprised everyone when he revealed that he had found a potential buyer for the restaurant, Mr. Dell’Aguzzo said.

Mr. Miele is supposed to meet with the potential buyer next Wednesday. Mr. Miele will then meet with Mr. Dell’Aguzzo and a union representative on Friday to reassess the situation.

Mr. Miele did not respond to messages left at the restaurant Thursday afternoon, and Mr. Dell’aguzzo declined to provide specifics of the negotiations or details of the potential buyer until after the meeting next week.

“Until we have all the facts, everything is in the air,” Mr. Dell’Aguzzo said in a phone interview Thursday night. “On Friday, we’ll know everything.”

In February, Mr. Miele told Diner’s Journal that the restaurant’s profits had gone down by as much as 70 percent in the last couple of years.

“If business stays like this, if it doesn’t pick up we can’t afford to stay open, we’re losing money,” Mr. Miele said at the time.

The restaurant does maintain a loyal following.

In 2006, Frank Bruni wrote for The New York Times that part of Gino’s draw was its “sense of timelessness.” For many of its regulars, he wrote, “Gino is their home away from home.”

But the celebrities are gone, as is some of the place’s old luster.

And though the fate of Gino will be much clearer next week, the veal and the chicken and the zebras may soon be gone as well.

What's with suicidal restaurant unions this year?

Two Landmarks Breathe Free

For the longest time, the view of Le Veau d'Or and Gino's, two Upper East Side landmarks, has been obscured by a tangle of unsightly scaffolding which doubtless hurt their business.

But no more. At some point in the recent past the scaffolding came down. Now a blogger can take a clear, unadulterated photo of both old restaurants. It's particularly a treat to see Gino's yellow-and-green sign in all its glorious garishness. Jump, Zebras, jump! Be free!

Gino Makes a Change

Gino, the age-old red sauce joint on upper Lex, is one of those places that doesn't accept credit cards—even though a meal there will probably cost you $60.

But, perhaps feeling the pinch of the times, that has changes. The NY Post reports will begin Gino accepting credit cards.

"Times change," said co-owner Michael Miele. "You have to go forward. Especially the younger generation, they don't carry cash."

Then there's this priceless exchange:

Still, a sense of possibility hangs in the air. [Patron Michael] Barlerin turns to bartender Bruno Blazina.

"The next question I'm going to have is, 'When are you going to start serving [food] at the bar?' "

"That will never happen," responds Blazina.

"Credit cards were never going to happen, Bruno."

Good News From Gino

Some good news from Eater regarding red sauce standby Gino:

A tipster tells us that Gino, the Upper East Side Who Goes There vet that was reportedly on the brink of shutter, just renewed its lease for five more years with rent relief. A call to the restaurant confirms the renewal and that they don't plan on closing anytime soon. The development doesn't change the fact that business has been down 70% over the last two years, but at least the owners of the 64 year-old restaurant are going to try to soldier through.

Gino in Danger

I'm sorry, but what is going on? I was just at Gino, the Upper East Side red-sauce stalwart, and it was crowded—on a Wednesday, at 7 PM, in a recession.

And now it's reported, by Eater via the Times, that the 64-year-old place is on the verge of extinction?

When you’re 64 years you feel the chill a bit more than the younger folks. So if the economy doesn’t warm up, said Michael Miele, the chef and one of the owners of Gino on the Upper East Side, the restaurant will close.

Mr. Miele was one of the trio of Gino employees who bought the place in 1980 from Gino Circiello, who opened the Upper East Side icon in 1945. (The others were Sal Doria and Mario Laviano, who died in 2006.)

“We’re down 70 percent over the past couple years,” he said, “especially now, forget it, we’ve got a big drop. If business stays like this, if it doesn’t pick up we can’t afford to stay open, we’re losing money.”

The zebras must not die! Here are a few possibly helpful suggestions for the old boys, should they choose to take them. Gino, you are an expensive restaurant, even for things like pasta. Try adding a few more economical items on the menu. How about a dinner prix fixe, something that would allow a diner to get out for under $30? A better, more thoughtful wine list wouldn't hurt. And try making better drinks; the cocktail are big, but on the sloppy side.

Lost City Asks "Who Goes to Gino?"

After all these years, I finally had dinner at Gino.

I've had drinks at the small bar (big sloppy drinks made by thick Russian hands), but never a meal. Truth to tell, the prices usually stopped me, and the insistence on cash only. I'd go again, but primarily for the atmosphere, which is priceless. And I wish I could paper my bedroom with the zebra-print wallpaper.

Here is my Eater "Who Goes There?" account of the place. Take a look at Krieger's fantastic photos, particularly the one of the two swells at the bar counting their dough. That picture by itself explains Gino's special place in the world.

This issue with Gino, the 64-year-old red-sauce survivor on Lexington Avenue near Bloomingdale’s, is not whether people go there. Obviously, tons of people go there. On a recent Wednesday night, the recession-proof restaurant was packed by 7:30, and even then the coat-room girl (yes, there is a coat room girl, every night) told me “This is not busy.” Even the tiny bar was deep with loose-livered businessmen. But who are they, these people who happily pass through a bright yellow door and then through a bright red door to plunk down $50 to eat mediocre Italian? Gino has an army of devoted regulars, but I’ve never met one of them.

All kinds frequent the narrow place. Old, young, Italian speaking, reserved Upper East Side types, back-slapping types, couples, large parties and women in fur coats. Actually, many women in fur coats. The one thing they have in common is they all know each other, and everyone knows Francesco, the maitre d’ of 27 years standing. Each entrance and exit at Gino is greeted by smiles, handshakes, kisses, waves, and “Hello”s from across the room. Nobody seems to arrive or leave unhappy. “It’s a big family,” said my red-jacketed waiter, who admitted he had only been in service five years. (Other waiters have been employed for 40 years.)

The attraction, in my estimation, is not the food, which is expensive and only acceptable. (My clams were rubbery, my lasagna mushy.) It’s the unchanging face of the room. The wooden phone booth; the coat room; the veteran, burly bartender, with his thatch of white hair, forever wiping down his bar; the drinks menu that prices Rob Roys and Old Fashioneds both with well liquor and top-shelf stuff; the insistence on cash only—nothing changes. Things are done at Gino the way they were at most restaurants 40 years ago. Even the mahogany bar and the tables are the ones chosen by founder Gino A. Circiello many years ago.

Accordingly, the customers behave the way customers did back them. Though Gino was first put on the map decades ago by the likes of Fred Allen, Ed Sullivan and Greta Garbo, there are no poseurs here now. No one is interested in being seen, or looking cool. They want to relax, and order something they’re used to from a waiter who knows what they like. Gino can give you that, but, sadly, only if you’re a member of the club. If you’re not, you can still have a pretty good time staring at the utterly unbelievable, one-of-a-kind, blood-red zebra-print wallpaper, and imagine how perfect a backdrop it would make for “Mad Men”’s Don Draper. It is my private belief that Gino would not have endured this long if, long ago, Gino himself had opted for another, less provocative print.
—Brooks of Sheffield

Lost City in the News

AM New York reporter David Freedlander has done admirable work for some time now covering the New York scene, particularly those parts of it that are in danger of vanishing. I am fortunate enough to be the subject of his latest story. I met with David a couple times over the past month, talking and taking miniature walking tours of Manhattan. No tape recorder, only a notepad; old-school reporting. One such travelogue can be found on AMNY's website here. (Nice atmospheric music; very Gershwin.) There's also a nice array of envy-inducing photos from those trips. Why can't I make these places look this good?



Here's the story in full:

Blog Testifies to Disappearing New York History

By David Freedlander

New York is a city of the things unnoticed until it's too late.

The faded wall advertisement that one day gets covered up by billboards, the odd dimly lit bar that closes to make way for a health food store, the shoeshine stand that suddenly disappears.

That vanishing world is documented in the blog Lost City, a Web site that is part archaeology of New York and part screed against rapacious developers and the politicians who enable them.

Its author is a freelance writer, who requests anonymity for fear of upsetting editors or sources with his screeds against the "new" New York, but who agreed to talk to amNewYork as long as we used his "nom de blogosphere," "Brooks of Sheffield."

"I would always plead to my editors and say, 'this bar is disappearing, this restaurant is closing, and we need to write about it,'" he said one recent afternoon over a bowl of matzah ball soup at the Edison Cafe, one of the oldest cafes in Times Square and one of the few places where it's still possible to dine on the cheap under big, bright chandeliers.

"And they would always tell me that's the nature of the city, and you can't get sentimental about New York."

Brooks began the blog in January 2006 after the abrupt shutdown of McHale's, a legendary Times Square watering hole where all the old theater hands used to go.

"I keep wondering where all the stagehands go now," he said. "Theater people need to drink."

As the pace of change in a city already known for rapid turnover accelerated, the tone of Lost City changed as well, growing more insistent and placing more blame at the feet of the Bloomberg administration.

"New York has always been fueled by money, but never so baldly as right now," he said. "It adds no value to the city or to history, but only to the people building them. I think we can add housing and jobs and all of that to the city and still put up buildings that people are happy with and proud of,"

He added, "I really wish I could close the blog down. The sad thing is though there are more and more things to write about all the time."

Lost City is now just one star in a constellation of sites devoted to documenting the idiosyncratic corners of the city. Forgotten NY, Jeremiah's Vanishing New York, and a host of others contribute to the choir, and they have begun to get the notice of the city's professional preservationists.

"It's indicative of the lightening pace in which development is going through in this city," said Andrew Berman, president of the Greenwich Village Society for Historic Preservation. "They focus less on architectural pedigree, and more on the things that capture people's eye, which are harder to advocate for in front of the Landmarks Preservation Commission, but they allow people to connect who are troubled by the losses of the city's history."

Brooks divides the great spaces of the city into four categories. There are those that are gone, like the Moondance Diner or CBGB; those soon to be lost, like Astroland; those, like Katz's or the Ear Inn that own the building and so are safe; and finally those that, through a miracle or landlord's generosity, are holding on.

"A place like Katz's, it tells the story of the history of New York," he said. "I don't think its Pollyannaish or unrealistic to say that those kind of places enrich the city. We have a lived history here that tells why New York is great, and why it has been many things for many people over the centuries."

Brooks bristles at the notion, though, that he is only engaged in a romantic reverie for a gone world.

"These things are still a part of the city, they are not nostalgia, not yet anyway," he said.

"I guess you could call it overly romantic but the people who wanted to save Grand Central were also overly romantic, but they were also right."

Wooden Phone Booth Sighting: Gino's

This booth can be seen snug up against the street-side window in Gino's, the old red-sauce Italian joint on Lexington near 60th. It works, has a seat inside and the light flicks on when you fold the door closed. It also, like the two booths at Sardi's, has a working fan that can be switched on (see below). Note the vent up top.

Bad Feng Shui for mobsters, though. Anyone on the street can see you when you're in the booth and nail you easy.




Wooden Phone Booth Sighting: Sardi's