sandr085

I haven't done one of these columns —in which I make a dish based on the recipe in a cookbook put out by a long-gone New York restaurant—in a long time. Nearly four years. Mainly I stopped because it's a lot of work and takes up a great deal of time. And, to be honest, the payoff usually isn't that great. Perhaps my cooking skills aren't what they could be; or the cookbook authors left some secret ingredient out of every recipe; or I don't have the required restaurant-level equipment. Or maybe the food of yesteryear just wasn't that good to begin with. Whatever it is, the result is usually underwhelming.  That said, I have had successes. I can say that since making Luchow's Wiener Schnitzel back in 2009, I make it about one a month. And the Grotta Azzurra's meatball recipe is a winner.  For this dish, I turn again to the Grotta Azzurra book, of which I'm pretty sure I have one of the last surviving copies. As I reported before, the Grotta Azzurra ...

The Milshire Hotel is grand old edifice on N. Milwaukee Street in the now fashionable Logan Square section of Chicago. It is little changed, inside and out. The vertical neon sign is original as is the traditional wooden booth the hotel manager sits in just inside the door. The Milshire is today what it always was, that kind of shady urban hotel where people of no fixed address stay for short (sometimes very short) or long periods of time. As you can see from the faded ad on its side, it was a "weekly transient" hotel, even back in the day. Today, shifty character pass in and out of the front door. Nonetheless, there's a cheap coffee shop inside that advertises its wares ("Cappuccino!") to all and sundry. I thought of taking a cup of coffee in this establishment, except when I entered the Milshire all eyes suddenly fell on me, and one lean, scruffy individual began to make a beeline toward me, as if he knew me or I owed him money. I beat it. The episode lasted a...

A couple years ago, I rejoiced at finding the storied prosciutto balls, once made at the Carroll Gardens institution Joe's Superette, at a Soho pizzeria called Prince Street Pizza. Louie, who used to make the balls at Joe's (which closed in 2011 and is still sorely missed), was behind the counter. However, in December 2013, I got a message from Louis' brother saying that Louis had left the pizzeria in late 2012 and the prosciutto balls were not longer to be found there.  Now, a couple days ago, I received this comment from "Frankie," the nephew of Leo Coldonato, the owner of Joe's and the inventor of the taste treat. He wrote, with a detectable sadness between the lines: Hopefully one day I can bring my uncles prosciutto balls back to Brooklyn where they belong. You can count the number of people who know us real recipe on one hand, and have fingers left over. Besides myself and Louie, I only know one other person who knows his real recipe. Like I said, hope...

Rico Wholesale calls home a rusticated, four-story, sandstone-like building at 1149 Broadway, between 26th and 27th Street. It one bothers to look up, one see that it was once home to "Wallace & Co.," which now reads "Walla ce & Co.," since someone, at some point, erased the keystone that once separated the "A" from the "C." The building dates from 1886. William L. Wallace was a confectioner and this was his store. Or his last store, anyway. Wallace, who lived in Tarrytown, died in 1890. Wallace was very good at selling candy. When he passed away, he was a millionaire. Wallace was a modest man. In his will, he called for a "plain and inexpensive monument" over his grave. He was also a vengeful man. He left nothing to his daughter Kate, to whom he "had never become reconciled since her elopement with a Mr. Wood of Sing Sing some years ago," or his son Carolyn (Carolyn?), who was given only $50, "which the testator ...

The shuttering of Classic Impressions, a gift and card store on Court Street in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn—as well as the recent closure of Gloria Flower Shoppe just down the street—got me to thinking of the past history of 296 Court Street. It's only been Classic Expressions, after all, for about a decade or so. I uncovered a few things about the address. In 1888, this was a hat store. It was owned by Caesar Simis, who had several haberdasheries. In the 1950s, there was a "store and bakery" here. Which is interesting, since its right next door to the iconic Court Pastry Shop. Must have been some rivalry. On a more grisly side, on March 26, 1895, there was a horrible trolley accident at the nearby corner of Court and Congress Streets. Woman named Mary Ann Medinger was struck by a trolley car and dragged under it for fully sixty feet before the transport came to a halt. He body was "literally torn to pieces," the New York Times reported, with he head cut off and legs ...

When I went to Caputo Fine Foods on Court Street last Friday to buy some gnocchi and found it closed during business hours for no clear reason, I was alarmed and wondered if something was amiss. I discovered today that he closure was due to the death of the shop's founder, Guiseppe Caputo. He died on March 21. Guiseppe waited on me a number of times (though he spent more time in the back kitchen than at the counter). As with everyone at Caputo Fine Foods, he was attentive and friendly. Caputo and his wife opened the store in 1973. Since then, it's become to be widely regarded as the best source of Italian foodstuffs in the neighborhood, particularly the homemade pasta, the mozzarella and the olives. The shop is now run by his sons.

New York was once littered with public bathhouses. The last of them closed in the 1970s. But one can still find many of the buildings they used to occupy in plain sight. The old bathhouse on E. 11th Street near Avenue B and what is now called the Brooklyn Lyceum on Fourth Avenue in Brooklyn are two prominent examples. This off-white, not so terribly grand looking structure was the Everard Baths. It was not a public bath, but a commercial bath. It operated from 1888 to 1985. It was founded by James Everard, a wealthy financier brewer. The building actually had a previous purpose, as a church. So I guess the building itself is actually older than 1888. At the time, 28th Street was a swell location. The theatre district was in nearby Herald Square and there were many swanky hotels in the area. Everard had private "steam cabinets" and several different styles of bathhouses. The place had a rocky history. (All bath houses did. Get a bunch of naked strangers in one building and som...