The cuisine at this Upper West Side delicatessen is one of
the greatest gifts Jewish Culture has brought to mankind since the ten
commandments.
— The New Yorker, August 5, 1996 "Table for Two" Column
As old-time New Yorkers die off or retire to far-away
locales, it seems that City restaurants which once were institutions get the
urge to change something about themselves that perhaps will make them
appeal to the yuppies in the short-term. But then the thing backfires
and yet another venerable place either closes or becomes a caricature of itself.
Not so Barney Greengrass's. Since 1908, little has changed about this place
that purveys what could best be described as "Soul Food for Jews." One
certainly need not be Jewish to eat there, however. A visit there recently with
a British expatriate and a young lady of Taiwanese birth proved it.
This delicatessen with a tiny restaurant attached hasn't changed in all the
years I've been going there. And I'd hazard a guess that it hasn't changed much
since before World War II. Walk inside and it's like walking back in time. The
display cases and refrigerators all look ancient, but are pristinely cleaned and
kept looking new. The ceiling of patterned tin, and the utilitarian light
fixtures evoke an even earlier time. The tiles on the floor are worn from the
shoe leather of a century of hungry patrons. The restaurant portion consists
of 11 tables; 4 for two, 2 for six, and the rest for four persons. A peculiar
mural decorates the wall. It has nothing, nothing at all to do with either the
culture or the cuisine. The tables are ancient Formica, the chairs utilitarian.
The plates are that heavy, heavy restaurant ware that one rarely sees in this
age of Corelle (thin restaurant china) and artistically-shaped square, triangular, and crescent-moon
shapes.
What's most delightfully peculiar about this place is that there's something
for everyone there. The menu is probably the wildest in New York. One in need of
a "nosh;" Yiddish for "snack" or "light meal" can sit down and order a Gefilte
Fish appetizer, complete with either a bagel or bialy, garnished with onion,
tomato (ripened to perfection) and beet-colored horseradish for $6. A bowl of
Matzoh Ball Soup is $3.75 and a cup of tea $1.75. So $12 ain't the cheapest
lunch in New York but a taste proves that you're in the right place.
On the other end of the pricing spectrum is the house specialty, "The Deluxe
Platter for Two" includes samples of Sturgeon, Nova Scotia Salmon, Kippered
Salmon, Sable and Whitefish. Now, you must understand that this is not sushi.
The fish is lovingly smoked by various purveyors, and selected exclusively by the owners of the shop (I believe this claim). It's absolutely pristine.
Everything from the simplest appetizer to the fish platter is garnished with
lettuce, ripe tomato, olives, raw onion, and includes a Bagel or Bialy of
one's choice, toasted or not. And cream cheese. The price? $75.00. We had it on
a previous visit and ended up taking half of it, and half our appetizers home.
The Eastern European flavor of the place not only attracts Gourmets of all
religions, but is a magnet for Poles, Russians and Hungarians. You see, beside
selling the finest Nova Scotia Salmon in the City (at nearly $40 a pound), they
sell caviar. They sell so much caviar wholesale that if you're eating caviar
at, let's say, the Waldorf-Astoria's dining room, it
originated from Barney Greengrass's. You can walk into this place and around
$400 later walk out with a large tin of the finest, freshest Beluga caviar
available anywhere in this country.
Now brace yourself. One normally thinks of taking their caviar from an iced
service in a white-tablecloth establishment which is usually candle-lit. Fine
Champagne is de rigeur. Well, not so at this place. Order the Supreme
Caviar Sampler, which features their Malosol Beluga, Osetra and Sevruga caviars,
accompanied by chopped boiled egg and onion, and you'll have to fork over $145.
And there are no tablecloths whatsoever. The napkins are paper. About the
Champagne, I'd hazard a guess that one could, indeed, bring in one's own,
because the State of New York's liquor laws are a little less stringent than
those of other states. But if you want a quaff that's on the menu, Heineken Beer
will be the finest offered. No hard liquor is served, by the way. Nor wine. Just
beer.
A full range of other deli fare is offered. Enormous Pastrami, Corned Beef,
Roast Beef and combination sandwiches are around $8; $14 will get you a sandwich
with fish. All come with either potato salad or coleslaw. There are few things
as delightful as a Corned Beef sandwich with raw onion and their chopped chicken
liver (about $12).
Side dishes abound. Desserts are simple but very, very good. The rice pudding
is like manna from heaven. The cheesecake is scrumptious. But who has room? This
is a place where the food is so marvelous those who don't live in the City will
want to over-order and take half of it home (we do... oink, oink).
Nowadays, there's another Barney Greengrass in Beverly Hills, California, right
on Wilshire Boulevard. It's probably the best answer to the question posed in
composer Dave Frishberg's song Do You Miss New York?
There's a little thing about the California store's menu that irks me, though.
In New York, if you order seltzer, it's $2.00. In Beverly Hills, it's two cents;
a play on the old "two cents plain" that one could order in a pre-World War II
drugstore soda fountain (if you wanted flavored syrup in it, it was a nickel).
Like the folks in Beverly Hills who bathe in Evian really need a discount
like that.
Those
who live elsewhere can avail themselves of the entirety of the Sturgeon King's
menu via their website:
www.barneygreengrass.com and have the gourmet delicacies delivered next-day
by FedEx. There's even an online shop with Greengrass schwag.
The website is also filled with Greengrass lore. Reviews mention famous fish
fans Groucho Marx, Lee Strasberg (who played a Meyer Lansky-esque
character in The Godfather Part II and was informed by the proprietor that
they'd just flown an order exactly the same as his to Miami — for Meyer Lansky).
Alfred Hitchcock was a Sturgeon fanatic. An aging George Burns is pictured with Barney
Greengrass's son in a photo displayed in the shop's window (Greengrass Sr.
passed on in 1956). Composer Irving Berlin was a fan of their borscht, served
cold and in a glass.
Barney Greengrass is, strangely enough, not a kosher delicatessen.
Perhaps their frame of mind is "Who needs the Orthodox when
the rest of the public is lined up outside the door?"
And line up they do. The store's open from 8:30 until 6 Tuesday through
Thursday, 8:30 until 5 Friday and Saturday. Monday's you're out of luck; they're
closed. If you dare to go on Friday or Saturday, bring some reading to occupy
you. The lines at the deli are very, very long. And the lines for a table are
ghastly. However, it's first-come, first-served (no reservations are taken).
Their celebrity clientele sends people to wait in line for them. The line
of limousines idling early on Saturday morning would make the uninitiated say
"where's the funeral?"
I recall a Saturday morning waiting in line at 8:00 in the morning with a
couple from the Bronx who'd taken the subway there. Behind us was a guy I said
"looked like a young Leonard Bernstein". The couple from the Bronx had no idea.
Neither did the folks behind the great composer/conductor. After 15 or 20
minutes, the guy spoke up and said, "what, do I look old when I'm on
stage?" I was too embarrassed to ask for an autograph. And he didn't offer one,
either.
Barney Greengrass is located on Amsterdam Avenue and 86th street, on the East
side of the avenue. This gastronome's advice comes in two words: go there!