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I've posted in the past about old restaurants of many stripe: Italian, German, Spanish, Chinese, steakhouses, chophouses, society joints, cafeterias, etc. Swedish restaurants, not so much. A reader sent me this photograph of the Gripsholm Restaurant, which lived on E. 57th Street in midtown Manhattan. The postcard is from the 1930s. It looks pretty elegant. And I love the little bar set up for "Cocktail Hour" (which we see, by the hands of the clock, is 5 p.m.). I am intrigued that the most famous feature of the Gripsholm was its "Swedish Hors d'Oeuvres."  "Swedish Hors d'Oeuvres" means smorgasbord. And Gripsholm was famous for theirs. "It goes without saying that an appetite for hors d'oeuvres is a prerequisite for true enjoyment of a Scandinavian meal." The same article says that the Gripsholm's smorgasbord featured, yes, pickled herring. Also, eel, salmon, fish canapes, cold cuts, head cheese, pig's feet and "the s...

Wooden phone booth sightings are getting harder and harder to come by. Most of the booths I've seen, photographed and posted since 2006 are now gone. Either the business in question went under, or the booth was removed. (I was recently in Farrell's Bar & Grill in Windsor Terrace and can happily state that their booth is still there. Little ever changes at Farrell's, including the patrons' political opinions.) A reader sent me a photo of these booths. They rest on the second floor of Supreme Court, Queens County, at 88-11 Sutphin Blvd. The reader describes it as "a nice old WPA built courthouse."

I received this message the other day from someone who's father long ago worked at Longchamps, the sophisticated eatery chain whose restaurants once papers the city. It's a lovely memory: My father was one of the chefs for Longchamp's. He worked there from around 1940 to 1952, where he had a heart attack and was disabled after that. I believe he worked mainly at the one on 79th street in NYC, however, I seem to remember him going to help out at 34th and 59th street. It is a little vague since I was born in 1940. His name was John Motta. I do remember when I was about 8 or 10 he had come home one day and said he had been promoted to head chef. He had created several recipes for the restaurant and one I would like to get my hands on was for a special vinaigrette sauce, thick with finely chopped peppers, onion, garlic and basil. On my birthday, he would buy and bring me home their special Hazelnut cake with the mocha icing and of course once or twice I got one of their dolls t...

Lost City will be taking a short respite in the coming weeks. In the meantime, I wish every reader, and every New Yorker, a joyous holiday season, a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Years after its short life inside the landmarked Gage & Tollner building on Fulton Avenue in downtown Brooklyn ended, Arby's has yet to take down its signage. The vertical sign advertising the roast beef chain covers an original sign reading Gage & Tollner. Meanwhile, the tacky junk jewelry shop that took over the space after Arby's exited continues to inhabit the address, covered nearly ever bit of its beautiful, 19th-century landmarked interior with hot pink displays of the most appalling array of tinsel-y rubbish imaginable. All in violation of an contempt of City landmarking laws. Restaurateur Danny Meyer brought a Shake Shack to Fulton. Can't he take over this hallowed space and save it from further ignominy?

Whenever I'm walking through Brooklyn Heights, there are certain buildings and dwelling of such reliable charm, beauty and interest that I invariably stop when I pass them and take a good long gander. The simple white, two-and-a-half story number at the northeast corner of Hicks and Cranberry—No. 59 Hicks Street—is such a house. It's not the most impressive structure in the area. But in its modest, village-like qualities, it is somehow very Brooklyn Heights-ish. It looks like it should be in some small town in Massachusetts, not in the middle of a huge metropolis. It is also evidently a very old structure, even to the untrained eye. For years, this was the home of the Heights Veterinary Hospital. And, as far as I can tell, that's what it was for a long time. Here's a photo of the same building from 1958, when it was already the a hospital for animals. Not only that, it was white, just as it is today. In fact, nothing about the facades seems to have altered in the last ...

Finding good food in South Bend, Indiana, can be a challenge. There aren't many eateries that are thought of as local institutions. But one place that was recommended to me several times was Rocco's, a pizzeria on N. St. Louis Boulevard. It was founded by Rocco Ameduri, his young wife Julia, and her parents Rose and Louis Simeri. All four were Italian-Americans from the region of Reggio Calabria, in the south of Italy. The younger couple settled in South Bend, where Rocco worked as a cook at Notre Dame, and Julia as a waitress. In 1951, they opened their own place, right next door to where the Simeris lived. The menu consisted of a collection of Simeri and Ameduri recipes. The original pizzeria seated only 12. (You can see photos of the original buildings below.) Today, it's still fairly small, but the squat, sprawling building seats 150 people. Rocco's daughter Linda eventually married Warren Verteramo, another Reggio Calabria native who worked in the kitchen in Rocco...