View allAll Photos Tagged luncheonette
This display of Coca-Cola bottles was seen in the window of the Lexington Candy Shop/Luncheonette on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.
Two Bridges Diner. End of a dream? Two brothers opened a place they called Cup & Saucer Luncheonette almost 30 years ago in a space next door. It thrived. Then in 2017 the owners raised the rent to about $15,000 a month. The Cup & Saucer closed. When you passed by and looked in the window there never seemed to be an empty seat. The brothers reopened in 2019 in a space adjacent to where the Cup & Saucer had been. This time they called it Two Bridges Diner. I passed by today and the picture shows what I saw. It was sad to see.
On the corner of Canal & Eldridge. Another 'last bastion' of Old New York. We had lunch here and it was great! Anything still carrying the name 'luncheonette' gets my vote.
The last days of the Grand Luncheonette on 42 street New York City. Shots are made few weeks before it closes in 1997
Chicago Café
Woodland, Ca.
This is a tough one…
I was stuck on which of the two shots I should post so I asked my wife’s opinion…She likes them both but leaned towards the wide angle shot…I like them both and leaned towards the tight shot…
So what the heck, I’ll just throw them both out there…hehehe
PS – The food here was awesome and the business has been in the same family since 1903 but I think there is too much competition from the newer establishments in the area…
I'm a bit behind on the NYC news but seems this diner shut in July 2017 due to rising rents. Disappointing as it really was a New York fixture for 70 years.
This was one of those places I always wanted to photograph and in June 2015 I took my daughter into the city for a 'photo day' and we went all through Chinatown and ended up for a grilled cheese and ham sandwich here at the Cup and Saucer, where I took this shot.
Most of you will know how much I love old storefronts, vintage signs, delis and New York. Today, I look back and am so glad we passed by and ate lunch while it was still open
Taken with my digital Fujifilm X20
Jerry Poulimas got his first "slanguage" lesson eight years ago, when a customer plopped down on a lunch counter stool and said, "Gimme some Joe."
"I thought the guy thought my name was Joe, and I told him it wasn't," says Poulimas, who was 15 and working after school in his parents' diner. "No," the guy said. "Joe. You know, coffee."
Poulimas, who now manages the family-owned Angela's Coffee Shop in the Fort Tryon section of upper Manhattan, still hasn't mastered the arcane lingo of the hash house. But, he says, he's picking it up, one crazy, colorful term at a time.
"It's a language that's close to extinction," says John Mariani, a New York food writer who once compiled a list of the most popular patois used by diner cooks and waiters, and authored The Dictionary of American Food and Drink.
Once, diners rang with calls for cackleberries (eggs), axle grease (butter), Zeppelins in a fog (sausages in mashed potatoes) and bossy in a bowl (beef stew).
Slang now? "It's like Latin, a dying language," says Mariani.
There are several reasons, among them the disappearance of the brassy, sassy waitresses and countermen who made the colorful jargon part of their working routine during its heyday in the '30s, '40s and early '50s.
At several diners around New York, managers said, employes don't use slang, partly because there is no one to teach it, but also because orders to cooks are increasingly complex and thus require more exact terminology.
And some slang has gone mainstream — among it, O.J., BLT, stack, mayo, over easy, hash browns, sunnyside up and blue plate special.
Tradition is just hanging on at Angela's, where Poulimas was shouting an order as a reporter walked in. "Whisky down," he yelled to cook Gus Delos. "And it's walking." "That's rye toast to go," he translated.
Diner slang has been around a long time. In 1852, a newspaper in Detroit printed some examples, and by the 1870s, black waiters made it popular. After World War II, soda jerks — another term that later crossed over into popular use — and drive-in waitresses added more terms. But by then, it was a fading fad.
"I didn't know any of this until the cooks told me," says Poulimas, who started working for his parents when he was 11. "They told me to learn it to minimize confusion."
One specialty at Angela's is the rice pudding that his mother makes every morning. What do the waiters call it?
"Rice pudding," says Poulimas. "Some things you don't screw around with."
- Bill Bell (The New York Daily News)
The Lingo
Adam and Eve on a raft, and wreck 'em: Eggs on toast, scrambled.
A spot with a twist: Tea with lemon.
Axle grease: Butter.
Belch water: Seltzer or soda water.
Birdseed: Cereal.
Blowout patches: Pancakes.
Blue-plate special: A dish of meat, potato, and vegetable served on a plate (usually blue) sectioned in three parts.
Bossy in a bowl: Beef stew.
Bowl of red: A bowl of chili con carne.
Bowwow or Coney Island chicken: A hot dog.
Breath: An onion.
Bridge or bridge party: Four of anything, so called from the card-game hand of bridge.
Bullets or Whistle Berries: Baked beans.
Burn one, take it through the garden and pin a rose on it: Hamburger with lettuce, tomato and onion.
Burn the British, and draw one in the dark: English muffin, toasted, with black coffee.
Cat's eyes: Tapioca.
City juice: Water.
C.J. White: Cream cheese and jelly sandwich on white bread.
Cowboy: A western omelet or sandwich.
Cow feed: A salad.
Creep: Draft beer.
Deadeye: Poached egg.
Dog and maggot: Cracker and cheese.
Dough well done with cow to cover: Buttered toast.
Drag one through Georgia: Coca-Cola with chocolate syrup.
Eighty-six: The kitchen is out of the item ordered.
Eve with a lid on: Apple pie.
Fifty-five: A glass of root beer.
First lady: Spareribs.
Fly cake or roach cake: A raisin cake or huckleberry pie.
Frenchman's delight: Pea soup.
Gentleman will take a chance or Sweep the kitchen: Hash.
Go for a walk or On wheels: An order to be packed and taken out.
Gravel train: Sugar bowl.
Graveyard stew: Milk toast.
Hemorrhage: Ketchup.
High and dry: A plain sandwich without butter, mayonnaise, or lettuce.
Houseboat: A banana split made with ice cream and sliced bananas.
In the alley: Serve as a side dish.
Irish turkey: Corned beef and cabbage.
Jack Tommy: Cheese and tomato sandwich.
Java or Joe: Coffee.
Looseners: Prunes.
Lumber: A toothpick.
Maiden's delight: Cherries.
Mike and Ike or The twins: Salt and pepper shakers.
Moo juice: Milk.
Mud or Omurk: Black coffee.
Murphy: Potatoes.
Nervous pudding: Jello.
Noah's boy: A slice of ham.
On the hoof: Meat done rare.
Paint a bow-wow red: Hot dog with ketchup.
Pittsburgh: Meat charred on the outside while still red within.
Put out the lights and cry: Liver and onions.
Radio: A tuna-fish-salad sandwich on toast.
Sand: Sugar.
Sea dust: Salt.
Sinkers and suds: Doughnuts and coffee.
Vermont: Maple syrup.
Warts: Olives.
Whisky down: Rye toast.
Wreath: Cabbage.
Zeppelins in a fog: Sausages in mashed potatoes.
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Lately we have been highlighting on our feed luncheonettes, newsstands and delis which have privilege signs and wanted to share another New York City gem which has a gorgeous Coca-Cola privilege sign. We photographed this luncheonette in Queens in the early 2000s with our 35mm Canon EOS Elan 7e (almost all of our storefront photos which appear in our “Store Front: The Disappearing Face of New York” book and the outtakes from the book were all taken using that film camera).
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“Privilege Signs” are an industry term for the promotional signs installed by large corporations such as Coca-Cola and the Optimo Cigar Company. They were popular in the 1930s through 1960s and received their name because store owners were given the “privilege” of completing the signs with their own copy. Large companies benefited from the signs because they were an easy way of weaving a marketing campaign right into a building’s façade. The signs were not only given free to store owners, but they also brought people into the store with instant brand recognition.
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#luncheonette #cocacola #filmisnotdead #jamesandkarla #disappearingfaceofnewyork #film #filmphotography #signage #analogphotography #storefront #momandpopshop #americana #momandpopshops
Chicago Café
Woodland, Ca.
This is a tough one…
I was stuck on which of the two shots I should post so I asked my wife’s opinion…She likes them both but leaned towards the wide angle shot…I like them both and leaned towards the tight shot…
So what the heck, I’ll just throw them both out there…hehehe
PS – The food here was awesome and the business has been in the same family since 1903 but I think there is too much competition from the newer establishments in the area…
I'm not absolutely sure if this little restaurant is truly abandoned but I didn't see any sign of life during any of the four days I was in the neighborhood. It looked a bit dusty inside and out but.....this is New Orleans..
This abandoned restaurant was located right across the road from Amtrak's Prince, WV Amtrak Station. I'm not sure if this building is still there.
Prince isn't much of a town, but its 1940s train station is an Art Deco gem and it serves the nearby city of Beckley.
Rockaway, NJ
General store & luncheonette operated by the Arico family during the 20th centruy, later leased out in the early 1990s, reopened by the Arico family in late 2021.
We have great news to share about Hildebrandt’s, the classic Long Island luncheonette/ice cream shop which has been in business since 1927. When we visited this iconic shop this past April, it was struggling to survive due to a recent rent increase. We had an amazing lunch including a grilled cheese sandwich, hamburger 🍔& delicious homemade French Fries and homemade Ice Cream Soda (swipe left for 2nd photo of our strawberry 🍓 ice cream soda and a black & white ice cream soda topped with their homemade whip cream) and swipe left for 3rd photo of the gorgeous interior). After hearing that Hildebrandt’s was in danger of closing, new owners have purchased the business and renegotiated a 10-year lease with the landlord and thankfully plan on keeping its iconic neon signage and gorgeous Vitrolite storefront and the interior of the ice cream shop, which has not changed much since they first opened.
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To watch our livestream video supporting @hildebrandts please visit link below or see direct link to our YouTube channel in bio & today’s IG story.
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On Location at St.Vincent Street. on Renfield Street as Glasgow doubles for New York in the latest Indiana Jones Movie.Circa 1969.
We chose Cup & Saucer to be immortalized in our #storefront sculptural installation (seen here on our 1/10th scale model) because it not only was a fantastic #Luncheonette, which was in business since the 1940s but because this family-owned business really helped bring the Lower East Side community together. Co-owners John and Nick knew their customers by name and told us that they often would begin preparing their “regulars” favorite meals 🍔🍳 as soon as they saw them crossing the street. Sadly this coffee shop☕️ was forced to close in 2017 after a steep rent increase from $8,200 a month to $15,800. We hope our “Mom-and-Pops of the L.E.S.” Installation inside Seward Park will help raise awareness of the importance of these small businesses to the community.
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To help us in our efforts to raise funds for the fabrication, lumber materials,installation and de-installation costs, please visit our Kickstarter page, where this #miniature scale model is offered as one of the rewards in a very limited edition of 2. Please see link in bio to donate or visit: www.kickstarter.com/projects/1581279891/mom-and-pops-of-t...
A CSX hopper train rolls downgrade through Waynesboro VA. on the Buckingham Branch railroad as it crosses the NS Shenandoah line and passes the Basic City Luncheonette. This part of Waynesboro was once known as Basic City.
Happy National Egg Cream Day everyone. In honor of this holiday, we are highlighting the oldest continuously operating luncheonette in Manhattan where you can still get an authentic egg cream, Lexington Candy Shop. The egg cream (swipe left for 2nd photo) is a quintessential New York beverage originally served in candy stores throughout the Lower East Side beginning in the 1920s. Contrary to its name, the egg cream does not contain eggs or cream but is a mixture of very cold milk, seltzer, and flavored syrup. It is believed that the name “egg cream” came from the egg-white-like foam that rose to the top of the glass. Another theory about its unusual name is that the words echt keem, Yiddish for “pure sweetness” were used to describe the drink and the Anglicized form of the words led to “egg cream.
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We included our 2019 photo of this historic candy shop, which was founded in 1925 in our book “Store Front NYC: Photographs of the City’s Independent Shops, Past and Present” (swipe left for 3rd photo of page spread ) which is available in booksellers worldwide. Store Front NYC includes many of our favorite storefront photos taken using 35mm film in the early 2000s as well as many previously unpublished photos like this photo which we did not include in our previous books. We encourage you to visit @lexingtoncandyshop as entering the shop is like stepping back in time with its gorgeous vintage interior, which has not been renovated since 1948. We are huge fans of their egg creams (swipe left for 4th photo) especially their coffee-flavored egg cream but we also love their delicious milk shakes and maltedsmade using their 1940s mint green Hamilton Beach mixer.
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#eggcream #storefront #jamesandkarla #dinersdriveinsanddives #luncheonette #diners #dinerfood #maltedmilk #milkshakes
we had an amazing breakfast here post bird garden-ing. I love the word "luncheonette". I hate that there aren't many luncheonettes left in NYC.
{polaroid sx-70 + polaroid 600 film w/ND packfilter}
Why do sociologists, when calculating the liveability score of an urban community, continue to leave out of their calculations the most significant characteristic that makes a city rich and enduring? The quality of the viola section in the local orchestra, the number of “vape shops”, the population of basson players in town (per capita); these as well as other mundane considerations are often found in the ledgers of Urban Studies departments; catalogues that contain more entries than there are cases of narcolepsy in Des Moines. The thoroughness of these tomes is undeniably impressive, but the reputations of the compilers will be forever sullied until they descend from their academic perches and get down to “brass tacks”. For too long has the really important question been neglected: how many joints in the neighbourhood serve up matzah ball soup?
The Cream City, I am sad to report, does not do well in this regard. How a congregation so rich in culture continues to be a “matzah-ball desert” is beyond my ability to explain. Everything else needed to raise up the Philistine to a higher level (and God knows, they need it), is here for the taking: the Harley-Davidson Museum, a bingo palace sitting astride the banks of the serene Menominee River, “Da Crusher Statue” that pays homage to one of the prime-movers of inspired athleticism amongst the local citizenry: those secular temples are all here for the edification of the regional populace and fortunate visiter. I could go on with the list, but do you really want me to? Back to subject at hand: where in this town are the friggn’ Matzah Balls?
It pains me to relate that currently there are only six restaurants in Milwaukee County that offer the delicacy. To be wrong in reporting this dismal number would be a blessing; please correct me if this recent research is faulty. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to be able to describe how our streets and avenues are awash in a rich and gold-hued broth along with attendant balls. It would even help me emerge from a recent bout with ennui. Although that malaise has been with me for only a brief time (49 years to be exact) it is far past time to take on a more vigorous approach. After all, honesty in all things, especially for the food critic, is indispensable. “Truth, naked, unblushing truth, the first virtue of more serious history, must be the sole recommendation of this personal narrative. So said Edward Gibbon in his autobiography. Shouldn’t the same unblushing truth be bestowed upon not only the student of history, but also upon those poor rubes seriously in search of a decent matzah ball?
The sad, sad reality must be reported and confronted: a metropolitan area that contains one and a half million citizens (you read that number right, Sarge) and only six matzah ball venues?
Embarrassing and even shameful.
Here’s the skivvy: of these pitifully few heroic establishments, three have been offering the tasty globes for decades: “Benji's Deli” on Oakland (and their suburban branch in Fox Point) and “Jake’s” on 20th and North. Two more, “Allie Boy’s Bagelry & Luncheonette” and “Fool’s Errand” are new-commers to the sweepstakes, and one, “Bistro in the Glen,” has been in the game for close to a decade. All of them contribute respectable M-balls for the delectation of the local population.
It was only by happenstance, and a wrong turn onto National Avenue, that I came across one of these five noble ports. As it turned out, this particular shop’s version of the dish under consideration was more than respectable. It fact, the other five dispensaries had better “up their game”, or their work will soon be assigned to the dustbin of matzah-ball history. Had the turn been west instead of east from First Street onto that venerable boulevard, this important truth may never have come to light. Plus I would have ended up at my intended destination, a jollification for retired viola players (an oxymoron if there ever was one). Who needs that? Not me, Bubba. As so often may happen in the narrative of an itinerant life, making a wrong turn put me in a far better place. It took only as long as a proficient high school orchestra is able to complete Mikhail Glinka’s Overture to Ruslan and Ludmilla (approximately four minutes and 42 seconds on a good day) for the happy news to sink in: turning left instead of right placed me directly in front of Allie Boy’s Bagelry & Luncheonette.
I went in there.
Damn I’m glad I did. On the menu was not only a cornucopia of bagels, but an offering of far greater import. You guessed it, matzah ball soup. The price for a pint was a bit daunting to a pauper such as myself: eight dollars for a pint. Fortunately I had just taught a viola lesson and was flush with unexpected cash and shopping coupons redeemable selected K-Marts. One viola lesson fee for one pint of Matzah ball soup. Jimmy Carter was wrong. Life is fair after all.
Home to the ‘burbs went the soup and an “Everything Bagel.” The “Everything Bagel” was everything an “Everything Bagel” should be. In taking it out of the bag, enough sesame seeds fell off the pastry to supply the dietary needs of the Bronx Zoo Aviary during mating season. Also on the remarkable object were embedded bits of toasted garlic dried chives, and pungent black pepper; an impressive orchestration indeed. Move over, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov. Along with the main course came a delightful ornament, the “Shmear” of the day. It happened to a memorable one: cream cheese infused with the flavours of bourbon and maple syrup. Putting that elixir down the hatch had a spectacular effect. Could it be? National Avenue and environs were no longer there. Instead, waiting outside the door of the shop was “Up-Nort.” (Such is the vernacular used in the vicinity to describe any locale north of Brown Deer Road.) For those who have never been north of Brown Dear Road, a brief description is necessary. It is a place where “Crown Royal” flows like a meandering river and the pines wave in consanguinity with the capricious winds; in short, a far more gracious place than suburban Hoboken, New Jersey.
This culinary quodlibet had been perfectly baked. The results of that delicate and sensitive process presented a pastry that was magisterial in affect but forgivingly chewy at the same time, a two-fold pleasure and an impressive achievement of the baker’s art. Putting your chompers into the specimen might seem a bit intimidating at first. It certainly was for me, but once commenced there were no regrets. There are times when it is best to dive into the symphony and let the toasted garlic bits fly where they may. It was such a time. The journey into the interior of this particular “Everything Bagel” was worth the initial resistant, tentative nibble.
And the soup? Never has eight bucks gone so far. The dumpling itself, plopped down into a broth lightly salted and ornamented generously with a melange of carrots, soft onions and celery , was gigantic but consistently tender all the way to the distant center. There was a complexity to the object that adumbrated a quantity of exotic culinary conceits. The sphere was more than a mere matzah ball; it was a globe that contained many things. To snarf it down was to explore a new world.
All this for eight smackers? Allie and the boys should make it ten. jonathanbrodie.substack.com?r=90umj&utm_medium=ios