Showing posts with label gage and tollner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gage and tollner. Show all posts

Thursday, 9 August 2012

Take a Look at Gage & Tollner's 1964 Menu


A reader, prompted by my recent bemoaning of the state of the old Gage & Tollner building, recently sent me images of the famous restaurant's 1964 menu. He found them reprinted inside a copy of Vincent and Mary Price's famous book "A Treasury of Great Recipes."

Note the guide to the signifying emblems the waiters wore. And the incredibly rich array of seafood options. The mutton chop! The Lobster Thermidor and Lobster Newberg! A whole section devoted to toast! The Stirred Eggs Dewey! Four kinds of Welsh Rarebit! I didn't know there was more than one. Long Island Rarebit? What could it be?







Tuesday, 31 July 2012

Gage & Tollner in Hell


How many circles of Hell does Gage & Tollner have to pass through alongside the cavalier Virgil that is the New York Real Estate Market before it attains redemption? First it suffered being a TGI Friday's, draped in red and white. Then it became an Arby's, it's landmarked interior ignored by fast food fans. Now it isn't even a restaurant of any kind. It transformed into a gaudy cut-rate jewelry store, the kind that, you know, exclusively carries crap.

You can barely see any of the timeless, gaslight interior, what with those screaming pink partitions. Only the chandeliers remain on view. The store was ordered by the Landmarks Commission last summer to apply "for permits to keep the partitions or risk be fined up to $5,000 and then potentially additional penalties of up to $250 a day that the temporary paneling remains. Sources said the city wants the partitions removed." Well, the partitions are still there. So I guess they got their permits.

And now, it looks like Gage & Tollner may soon be vacant again. The building is covered with garish yellow "Blowout Sale" signs. It doesn't say "Going Out of Business" or "Everything Must Go," but you never know with this cursed space. Frankly, I'd rather see it empty than filled with those junky costume baubles.