Manganaro Name to Leave Ninth Avenue Altogether

They fought over their right to exist and to the name Manganaro for decades. And now, as some sort of seeming poetic justice, both businesses that have long borne that name will vanish forever from Ninth Avenue in Hell's Kitchen.

Manganaro's Grosseria Italiana, the ancient and argumentative sandwich shop and grocery, closed last year after 121 years. Now, Manganaro's Hero-Boy, it's longtime rival, owned by another faction of the fractious, litigious family, is leaving the street. It's being forced out by its landlord. According to Eater, the building and the space next door were sold to a developer for $15.75 million, and the new owner wants the shop to vamoose. The sale was brokered by the vulture-like Massey Knakal, which is usually on the scene when old businesses and old buildings die in New York. (I personally was shocked to learn that Hero-Boy didn't own the building.)

Hero-Boy was founded in 1956. I used to eat at Hero-Boy often when I worked in Times Square in the 1990s. I'd trudge the extra blocks to dine on cheap and delicious sandwiches in what was then a very homey, down-to-earth setting. It was still kind of a locals' secret back then. Many neighborhood workers has their lunches there, and much Italian was spoken. The place has since slicked things up and the place lost a lot of character.

I used to love walking down this stretch of Ninth Avenue. It was so gritty, so real, so evocative of an older New York. A lot of what I liked is now gone.

Manganaro Grosseria Italiana Closes for Good

Damn.

I passed by Manganaro Grosseria Italiana just last week, and almost went in for a sandwich. But didn't.

And now it's gone forever.

It's been on the books for a year now that it was on its way out. But it lingered. Not anymore. According to JVNY, the tables have been removed, the shelves emptied, and a note on the website reads, "As of February 27, 2012, Manganaro Foods will no longer be open in New York City. We will let you know when we re-open." (Looks like J. made the same mistake of not visiting when he got a chance.)

Thus ends a 121-year run.
Here's an account of a visit I paid last year about this time.

Manganaro, Irascible to the Last

What the hell? Of all the old businesses in New York City, Manganaro's Grosseria Italiana and its bete noire brother restaurant, Manganaro's Hero Boy, make it the hardest to be a pure-hearted preservationist. You want to support them. You want to carry the torch. But the ornery owners are so damn difficult and contrary that half the time you want to shove that torch in their face.

Recently, an article in the Wall Street Journal reported that the Manganaro clan that runs the Grosseria Italiana (and has warred for decades with the half of the family that operate Hero Boy a couple doors down) was going to sell the building and close the business. At the time, I was amazed that the Journal actually managed to get the owners to sit down and be civil enough to willingly take part in an interview. They are, after all, widely know for abusing their customers.

But now they're back on form. Seline Dell'Orto, proprietor of Manganaro's Grosseria Italiana, told the New York Observer that they were furious with the Journal. "We're not closing!" Ms. Dell'Orto barked. "No one said that to that idiot reporter!" Nice.

A spokesperson from the Wall Street Journal responded: "While not the best [headline] we've ever written, it's meant to convey the process of closing rather than the moment of closure."

Another revelation: shrewish Seline has feelings! "I alienated a lot of people," she said. "I've said mean things. I'm not an angel, but I'm better than that. That's why I'm crying. I can't tell you how many nights I didn't sleep over something I said to someone."

Stay tuned until next week, when Seline expresses her indignation with the Observer article.

Horrors?: Holland Bar Gutted, But May Return

In a possible sure sign of the dying soul of New York City, Holland Bar—dive of dives, hell hole of Times Square past, hard-drinking haven, irony-free zone—has been gutted. If it is gone for good (and this is not a certainty—see below), it follows its brother in gritty Ninth Avenue degeneratacy, Bellevue Bar, into history. If Ray Milland in "The Lost Weekend" were alive today, where would he drink!?

The beloved dump used to be inside the Holland Welfare Hotel in 42nd—hence the name. It only moved to its present location in 1987. Legend has it that jazz great DexterGordon was a regular. The liquor was rotgut, but the beers were good. And everything was cheap.

But there's a possible silver lining. I called around and learned this from the owner of the nearby Manganaro's HeroBoy: "There's a possibility that it may reopen in the spring. The landlord is making some renovations, but if you look in you'll notice that while some stuff has been ripped out, other things have been left. I think the owner and the landlord are trying to come to an agreement."

So there's hope.

The phone has been disconnected. A job action filed with the DOB on Oct. 30 by one Harry H. Hong describes the work this way: "INSTALL EXHAUST HOOD FOR AN EXISTING DELI STORE ["Deli Store"?] ON 1ST FLOOR. INSTALL METAL CHIMNEY FROM 1ST FLOOR ROOF TO 5TH FLOOR ROOF. NO CHANGE IN USE, EGRESS AND OCCUPANCY." I called Hong's office and they didn't know what was going on with the space.

Hong filed another job on Oct. 24 to "REMOVE EXISTING WOOD BEAMS AND REPLACE WITH NEW STEEL BEAMS AND METAL DECK CONCRETE FOR 1ST FLOOR RIGHT FRONT STORE. INSTALL FIRE RATED SHEETROCK ON CELLAR AND 1ST FLOOR CEILING."

The owner of the building is listed as one Eleben Yau Mei Wong, who seems to have bought the property in 2007. Norman Daskefsky used to own the bar. Maybe still does.

A Peek Inside Manganaro

Greenwich Village Daily Photo has a nice photo essay on the old Manganaro Grosseria Italiana on Ninth Avenue. Wonder how he got the nice inside shots without one of the irrascable staff bashing his head in.

Manganaro Gets a Sense of Humor

Saw this sign outside the Manganaro Groceria Italiana on Ninth Avenue. The shop feuded with the family members who owned the neighboring Manganaro's HeroBoy for decades, though, if you believe reports, they reconciled in recent years. The sign still carried the usual pugnacious message "Maganaro Foods is not connect to HeroBoy," but adds the somewhat self-mocking "But you knew that already." Perhaps they have mellowed a bit.