Florent

The Dining section of the Times today has a surprisingly moving audio slide show about the history of Restaurant Florent, the last bastion of cool to hit the Meatpacking District, narrated by owner Florent Morellet.

Ever since I moved to New York eleven years ago, Florent has been a mainstay in my late night dining rotation. While I was never one to hit the clubs, much less Hogs and Heifers, Florent would beckon when those 3AM cravings took hold even if I was no where near the Far West Side. I remember seeing Q-Tip there one very early morning many years ago, eating dinner with a beautiful woman. To this day, it remains one of my favorite celebrity sightings.

More recently my forays to Florent have been during somewhat respectable hours for dinner with friends or a glass of Lillet at the bar. The vibe and style of Florent is in a class by itself, and while I relish old-school restaurants that hark back to the 20s or 30s, I also really love (especially being a child of the 80s) the unattainably cool New York of say, Unique Boutique, Desperately Seeking Susan, and yes, Restaurant Florent.

When I heard that Florent was closing, I asked Monsieur Morellet if he would be so kind as to donate some menus to the Library. He most graciously obliged and now, I'm pleased to say, the Library's menu collection has a nice range of his quirky menus (designed by Tibor Kalman's M&Co) including one from 1985, the year Desperately Seeking Susan was released and opened my eyes to a new world, and the year Florent opened its doors and changed the Meatpacking District forever.

I can't image any future NYC historian researching the Meatpacking District without referring to Florent, and I'm hoping that these menus will allow for a richer and more detailed look at this uniquely New York neighborhood.

Friendly's

I'm fascinated by fast food. I don't eat much of it, except for the occasional McDonald's meal on I95, but I'm still really interested in the history of fast food: the "where, who and why" of it all. From the Harvey Girls who made waiting tables into a real career on the railroad lines, to Duncan Hines and his drives across the country discovering hole-in-the-wall restaurants, to Burger King, Wendy's and Fat Burger -- behind every fast food joint there is usually a great American story.

Fast Food: Roadside Restaurants in the Automobile Age is a wonderfully readable book on the history of roadside restaurants, and it offers quite a bit of background on fast food culture, including one of my all-time favorite restaurants: Friendly's.

For those of us who grew up in suburban New York or anywhere in New England, Friendly's is an important landmark. It's where you went with your friends after a movie, or where your parents took you after a school play or concert. Friendly's is where I experienced my first real stomach ache (Jim Dandy? I don't think so...) and where I learned that I do indeed have a delicate constitution. Regardless of all that, I can't get over the feeling of nostalgia that warms over me when I walk into a Friendly's restaurant.

According to the book, Friendly's originated in Springfield, Massachusetts in 1935 as a dairy and soda shop. They shut down during the war due to gasoline rationing which cut automobile traveling, but opened up again afterwards, serving ice cream throughout Massachusetts. In the 1950s Friendly's expanded to upstate New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, D.C and even to parts of Indiana and Ohio, but still remained an ice cream-only destination. It was only in the 1980s that Friendly's began to serve food.

And speaking of food, while my love for Friendly's is vast, my heart belongs to the Fishamajig.

A little background before you think I'm crazy. I grew up in a kosher home. We didn't eat out much, and when we did it was to a deli or Moshe Peking or Pizza Hut. However, we did love a good Friendly's meal. Besides ice cream though, the only thing we were allowed to order was a Fishamajig. The Fishamajig is essentially a grilled cheese sandwich with fried fish and tarter sauce in the middle. A bit like the Filet-O-Fish, yet probably less healthy (if that's even possible) and I'm guessing just as non-kosher. I had one this past weekend, and while I did feel a tad sickly afterwards, it was worth the pain. It was a sublime Fishamajig.

For those of you who haven't tried a Fishamajig yet, I wouldn't necessarily recommend it. It's kind of an acquired taste. But should you desire to peruse a menu to see your other options, we have one in the Library's Menu Collection. I should know - I put it there myself.