A Good Sign: York Deli

Just the Pepsi sign, I mean, not the awning. Bold. Simple. In Yorkville.

A Perfect Storefront: 3 Star Deli & Grocery

I haven't done one of these features in a while, but I couldn't pass up the chance to showcase this little York Avenue gem of a storefront. It's the old-school signage that primarily makes it, of course. (That sort of sign that lists exciting attractions found inside like "Newspapers, Hot Coffee..," etc., never gets old.) The seven-digit phone number, hanging sign and happy riot of color (blue facade, red awning, yellow sign) all contribute to the charm. The cryptic "Peaceful Deli" written on the awning adds a bit of mystery. And the name's not to be discounted. 3 Star Deli & Grocery. I guess that's according to a three-star rating system, right?

Here are some previous "Perfect Storefront" features. Looking back, I've posted more than I thought.

Orwasher's, Yorkville's New-Old Bakery

Orwasher's Bakery is one of those old New York institutions with a tricky history. It was founded at 308 E. 78th Street in 1916, and the owners would like you to think nothing's changed since then. That's true, but only in part, and in a rather cosmetic way.

The shop was founded by Abraham Orwasher, who made eastern European and Jewish styles of bread in the coal-fired brick oven in the basement, servicing the kosher and Hungarian communities in the area. Abraham's son Louis inherited the business, and is said to have invented raisin pumpernickel bread. Louis' son Abram took over from there. All three generations used the same sourdough starter. The family owned the building that housed the bakery.

In 2007, Keith Cohen, who had worked at Tribeca Oven, entered the picture. He bought the business and fancified the offerings, adding Italian and French artisanal breads. His line of artisan "wine breads" were launched in 2009. In a nod to history and tradition, he still makes the old challah and other rustic breads in the original oven every week.

Visiting the bakery, therefore, is like visiting a land lying somewhere between Old New York and New New York. The exterior looks fairly modern, with its sleek panes of glass. The clean awning says "Orwasher's Handmade Bread," a boast Abraham would think to obvious and foolish to make. The interior still looks something like an old-fashioned bakery, though even it is way too polished and pretty for that. The tile floor with the big "O" remains. The breads, meanwhile, are delicious and authentic. And the shop does have a kosher certification. 

The most Old World thing about the place, however—at least on my recent visit—was the short, plump, old woman who served me. She looked like she had been working there for decades. No hipster she. 

Hungarian Meat Market Closes for Good

On June 17, 2011, the wonderful Hungarian Meat Market in Yorkville was ravaged by fire. The institution, which traces its history back to the 1950s, when the area was still a Hungarian stronghold and Second Avenue was called "Goulash Avenue," said at the time that the closure was temporary. "Due to an unfortunate fire accident, our store on 2nd Avenue is temporary closed!," read the store's website. "We are going to reopen after the remodeling of the store, probably around September."

A year after that scheduled September reopening, the market is still shuttered. The website says the reopening is "currently unforeseen." But it's not going rise from those ashes. The inside has been gutted, and a sign in the window says that space is for lease. The Hungarian Meat Market, home Tirol salami, Csabai smoked sausage, Szekely Goulash and authentic Hungarian paprika, is no more. It was the area's last Hungarian butcher. 

Memories of Hav-A-Pizza

Some posts can surprise you. For instance, when I posted this picture of Hav-a-Pizza in June 2011, I didn't expect that many people remember the old hole-in-the-wall pizzeria on E. 86th Street. But people did. Fondly. Here are the comments, which nicely fill in the Hav-a-Pizza story. The second one is from Frank Brevetti, the grandson of the store's owner. (Guess what? The shop closed because the landlords raised the rent. Same old story.) The fourth is from the son of a man who worked there.

"I remember when pizza was 25c a slice.About the mid 60s. And everytime the subway fare went up right away the price of a slice went up too."

"My grandpa owed hav a pizza. It was the landlords that forced him out both in Ny and again in NJ. They kept raiseing the rent to the point they couldent stay. In 1972 THEY WANTED 100grand a yr for that 20 by 20 store. Just rent. Try to pay that at 25c a slice."

"I remember Hav-A-Pizza from the late 50's. It was the first place I ever had pizza. As I remember it, pizza, then, was kind of new as a fast food. I don't think my parents had ever had it. It was fantastic pizza. There was much more sauce and cheese on it than today's slices in similar joints. It had a distinctive, rich, aromatic flavor that I occasionally get a whiff of in a slice today that instantly takes me back to 86th and Lex. A girl I knew who went to an exclusive East Side private school, Nightingale Bamford, told me years later that the school decreed Hav-A-Pizza off-limits. I'm not sure why, but I think it had to do with the school's (mis)percetion that unsavory, Fonzie-character types hung out there. I remember the clientele as non-descript, average people, maybe mostly young people. I remember Tony who was always there flinging the dough in the air. He wasn't friendly, at least to us, but he wasn't unfriendly either. When I first went there a slice was not 25 cents, it was 15 cents, and this was not The Depression. This was 1957-196?. A soda was 10 cents. So 2 slices and a Coke cost 40 cents. Even back then, this was just pocket change even for a school kid with a modest allowance."

"My dad Ernie used to work there making pizzas with Tony. We have a picture still today through the front window, of my dad flinging the dough in the air. It so nice to see this pic. It brought back many memories for my dad when he saw the pic, My dad and tony still talk everday."

My dad Erniused to work there making pizzas with Tony. We have a picture still today through the front window, of my dad flinging the dough in the air. It so nice to see this pic. It brought back many memories for my dad when he saw the pic, My dad and tony still talk everday =)My dad Ernie used to work there making pizzas with Tony. We have a picture still today through the front window, of my dad flinging the dough in the air. It so nice to see this pic. It brought back many memories for my dad when he saw the pic, My dad and tony still talk everday =)

A Memory of Hav-a-Pizza

From a reader, a memory of Yorkville's long-gone Hav-a-Pizza:

I remember Hav-A-Pizza from the late 50's. It was the first place I ever had pizza. As I remember it, pizza, then, was kind of new as a fast food. I don't think my parents had ever had it. It was fantastic pizza. There was much more sauce and cheese on it than today's slices in similar joints. It had a distinctive, rich, aromatic flavor that I occasionally get a whiff of in a slice today that instantly takes me back to 86th and Lex. A girl I knew who went to an exclusive East Side private school, Nightingale Bamford, told me years later that the school decreed Hav-A-Pizza off-limits. I'm not sure why, but I think it had to do with the school's (mis)percetion that unsavory, Fonzie-character types hung out there. I remember the clientele as non-descript, average people, maybe mostly young people. I remember Tony who was always there flinging the dough in the air. He wasn't friendly, at least to us, but he wasn't unfriendly either. When I first went there a slice was not 25 cents, it was 15 cents, and this was not The Depression. This was 1957-196?. A soda was 10 cents. So 2 slices and a Coke cost 40 cents. Even back then, this was just pocket change even for a school kid with a modest allowance.