More to Love on Lex

Carrying on with my treatise that Lexington Avenue—the part of it that lies in the Upper East Side—is (for whatever reason) very adept at preserving its old businesses, I explored the stretch of it between 86th and 72nd Streets, the other day.


Unlike the part of Lex between 72nd and 59th, which contains many a wonderful, but unsung treasure, this portion of the Avenue boasts a number of well-known and much-beloved shops. The 84-year-old Lexington Candy Shop, which serves egg creams and real malteds, perhaps tops the list of this category. Little ever changes in this misguidingly named diner, located at 83rd Street, except perhaps additions to the peculiar vintage coke bottle collection in the window.


Lascoff Drugs, at 82nd Street, is a pharmacy so majestic and solemn, you feel like your entering a church when you go in. High ceilings, high shelving, a balcony, ancient Pharmacuetical relics, and silence. No music. You'll find many old and classic brands here that you won't locate elsewhere. It's been here since 1899. If that sign ever falls down, it'll kill someone.



The Lenox Hill Grill, between 77th and 78th Streets, is all spanking new inside, but the sign and an old floor tile near the entrance betrays it at fully 50 years old.


Eisler Chemist at 79th Street dates from the days when this area was crawling with German-Americans, though, again, only the sign and the name hint at its oldness. Further down the Avenue, between 75th and 76th Streets, the L&H Pharmacy was founded in 1964.


William Poll, at 75th Street, is a bit of oddness that I hadn't known existed before last week: an 88-year-old, somewhat mangy-looking, specialty food store that feels vaguely English, and specializes in Baked Potato Thins and homemade dips to go with them. Dozens of dips. The facade stretches out over the sidewalk as a circular metal structure, a king of unofficial private bus shelter. Weird.


Paul Mole, at 74th Street, is a sprawling, second-floor barber that's been in business for 100 years. They sell their own line of hair and shaving products. And there are barber poles of all sizes, upstairs and down.

Rue de Lexington

Sometimes a single landowner can improve life in NYC through a eccentric act of pique.

Take the worthy who owns the three-story, strangely shaped, white-brick building at the northeast corner of 71st Street and Lexington. The property is home to a string of small businesses—classic New York small businesses, in fact: a news agent, a locksmith, a shoe repair shop, etc. Aside from their narrow acreage, they have only one thing in common: the same, unusual, red-and-white striped awning.

There can be no other reason for all these candy-striped awnings than that they are imposed upon the merchants through the leases written up by the landlord. It's a pretty little stipulation. The effect of so many attractive awnings on so many tiny storefronts is of walking down a Parisian side street.

I stopped in one of these inviting stores, Empire Shoe Repair, which, for some reason, is advertised in the from window as The Empire Shoe Repair. (Which empire?, one might ask.) It's been there for 45 years, and is run by one Chaim Yigal Dzhurayev, which may be one of the best names I've ever heard.