Joe's Dairy, The Movie Part 1

On September 16, 2008, I wrote a story about Joe's Dairy, located at 156 Sullivan Street. In this Italian area of the South Village/SoHo, we have Pino's Prime Meats as well as St. Anthony's Church (see here and here), both on Sullivan Street facing Joe's Dairy. Just across Houston Street, there is Raffetto's, Delmonico's, and Tiro a Segno. Trattoria Spaghetto lies just a few short blocks away. These are the final vestiges of the Italian neighborhood - places such as Vesuvio and Zito's Bakery, neighborhood icons, are now closed.

However, the full experience of Joe's Dairy - meeting Vincent and Anthony Campanelli, grandpa staking out the front retail area, and the making of mozzarella cheese in that tiny backroom - is something which only video or film can capture.

I made two additional visits. During the first, on December 15, 2011, I chatted with Vincent and his father. I captured the conversation on video as Vincent shared his views on retailing, the changes in the world, the value of family, and many pearls of wisdom. He is very intolerant of mass merchandising, chain stores - anything not done the old-fashioned way. Joe's Dairy is an example of the Slow Food movement.

Today, I will feature my initial conversation with Vincent and grandpa in the front room. I was invited back to see and film the actual making of mozzarella cheese in the tiny back room kitchen.



Related Post: One Short Block

At the Door

Being a butcher has little allure, and today, like most jobs that involve physical labor, there is no appeal for the young, restless, and upwardly mobile. At one time, butcher shops dotted the city, but now, a shop like Pino's Prime Meat is rare and noteworthy, the subject of articles that bemoan their loss and extol the pluses of getting one's meats from a skilled, multi-generational specialist, like Pino Cinquemani of Pino's Meat Market.

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A Narrow Path

Many years ago, I became entangled in an argument regarding aspects of Christianity with a cousin and his wife in my family's home in Connecticut. It was Christmas time, and I felt particularly bad to have gotten into a heated debate with family about their faith. I learned that they were born-again Christians. At one point, I expressed my dismay and told them that I was very sorry. However, they said that they were not upset at all but that, to the contrary, they valued the opportunity to defend their faith and that debates of this nature only made them more resolute in their beliefs.

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Love to Lug

Do not believe for a moment that New Yorkers do not envy many things about living in the suburbs or countryside. We extol the benefits and wonders of the city ad nauseum, however, the conveniences of suburban living are many, and and it is no wonder that outsiders wonder how and why we put up with city life. And if you want to live here, you had better want to walk and love to lug.

There is the lugging of laundry. Very few have washer/dryers in their apartments. In larger buildings, there are typically laundry rooms in a common area. In smaller buildings, laundry must be carried to the nearest laundromat - sometimes blocks away.

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Not Really

The one big thing you need to know about cement or concrete is that YOU GOT TO KEEP IT MOVING. My father knew this better than anyone; for most of his adult life, he worked for a construction company that specialized in concrete. All too often, a newbie driver with the company would break down on the road and not realize that his number one priority was to keep that cement drum moving. Invariably he would return a cement truck with a drum full of hardened concrete. This would require either a entire replacement of the drum or a very laborious removal process - chipping the material out with a jack hammer. I did this for a summer job - one of the most unpleasant tasks I have ever known.

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Meetings With Remarkable Women, Part 2

Happy Birthday, Rigel!  (see Part 1 here)

Meet Rigel Sarjoo, a biology major at NYU.

When I first met Rigel, she told me that she had always felt that she was born in the wrong time and wished she had lived through the sixties. When I asked if she had seen the film Woodstock, she answered, "Many times." I quickly learned that her knowledge of music from that period was virtually encyclopedic.

So, she was drawn, like I was, to Washington Square Park, with its roots in Bohemia and street music. She spent countless hours there, because she felt as I do - that although NYU has much to teach, there is another institution of higher learning: the sidewalk university of New York City.

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Meetings With Remarkable Women, Part 1

Our Little Girl

I once asked a number of friends who is more irritating - a person who thinks he/she is always right and usually is, or a person who thinks he/she is always right and frequently is not? Answer: Find a new friend. Someone who is talented, smart, and NICE. Someone who puts on no airs whatsoever, like Dave, whom I wrote about on July 28, 2010. Or the subject of today's story.

On September 25, 2010, I met a girl in Washington Square Park. She, like many of us, was captivated by the music jams that dot the park on a Saturday night. She brandished a harmonica - a welcome but not-so-common instrument. I learned that she was an NYU student. This was unusual - although students utilize the park as their de facto campus and a few do occasionally observe the music and cultural happenings there, they rarely participate and interact with park habitues.
This is very understandable, as the mix of regulars is as broad a group as imaginable, with many dicey characters - excons and drug addicts are well-blended in any grouping.

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It's Time to Start

It was late night in Key West, and I was strolling along Duval Street, the main thoroughfare. Here, like in New York City, bars close at 4 AM. However, unlike New York City, selling alcohol and drinking is allowed on the streets. Kiosks dot Duval Street, where blended drinks can be had, made right on the spot. Late-night revelers spill into the streets from the bars, many of them infamous like Sloppy Joe's.

However, I do not drink, so my attention was drawn to other kiosks, particularly ones selling snorkeling day trips to the Great Florida Reef - the world's 3rd largest and only barrier reef in the continental United States. The reef extends 170 miles and is located a few miles offshore, just a short trip away from the chain of island keys themselves.

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Foolish World of the Fiscally Frivolous

There is nothing more irritating for some men than the occasion when they feel the need to buy their girlfriends flowers. This obligatory event may be a minuscule effort yet looms larger than anything conceivable. And then there is the terror of Valentine's Day, where a last-minute purchase in New York City is tantamount to lunacy.

Adding insult to injury is the perception of wastefulness - buying something whimsically that is decorative and perishable is antithetical to the nature of the practical man. Flowers are a waning asset, so why invest?

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A Remarkable Couple, Part 2

Bitter Greens (see Part 1 here)

One of our party had fallen a little ill and had been moved into the bedroom. So, when it came time to read my tribute, the entire party moved into the bedroom. The warmth and intimacy had a huge impact on the party goers; we were now sharing the couple's inner sanctum - their own bedroom - and to use Hellen's words, the event became a love fest.

I was decidedly preaching to the choir. Regardless of Harvey's eccentricities or habits, this unusual man was surrounded by friends - people who understood him, accepted him, and loved him for who he was. Hellen, of course, was a no-brainer, as she could easily win the Miss Congeniality award. So here is what I wrote and read aloud to our group of friends on the 4th wedding anniversary of Hellen and Harvey on 11/11/11:

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A Remarkable Couple, Part 1

To say that Hellen and Harvey Osgood are an unconventional couple is an understatement. Here, we have an officer of the New York City Atheists (Harvey) married to a devout Christian (Hellen). Both are native New Yorkers - Harvey is Jewish, born in Brooklyn, and Hellen is Danish and Jamaican, born in Manhattan. Harvey has a master's degree in engineering and worked for decades for the MTA. Both gifted from childhood, Harvey attended the highly regarded Stuyvesant High School while Hellen was accepted to Bronx Science (she chose not to not attend). Hellen's educational background is multifaceted, at one time training as a nurse. She is currently a project manager at the MTA, where she met Harvey.

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Good That's Olde Too

At one time, modern high-rise buildings were marketed as "luxury." The apartments were sterile and devoid of character, with the most boring cookie-cutter layouts imaginable. They sported only the basic modcons, nothing luxurious at all. In New York City, luxury really just meant the absence of squalor. Not roach- or rat-infested, not a tenement, not a railroad flat, not dilapidated, not in a ghetto. In short, luxury was about what a place was NOT.

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Watch Out For Moose, Part 2

The Hazards of Oil

(see Part 1 here)

Hear this story as a podcast:


There is something about fried food that is so good, isn't there? But with health concerns being what they are, like many, I keep my consumption of fried foods to a minimum.  However, one evening while vacationing in Maine and eating dinner at Kokadjo, I was feeling that life was truly good and decided to throw caution to the wind. I had not only pizza but also French fries, onion rings, and fried sea food. For those not accustomed to so much fried food at one meal, the impact can be severe. And so it was.

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Watch Out For Moose, Part 1

The Joys of Oil

Recently, I paid a visit to introduce a friend to the wonderful fries at Pommes Frites in the East Village, which I wrote about on August 7, 2006. On this recent trip, I made a brief video of the process:



While there, I was reminded of my visit to Kokadjo in Maine. On April 7, 2010, I told of the waste of food in New York City restaurants and my experience of how food leftovers were handled at Kokadjo. However, there was a much bigger story about fried food that I left out and that tomorrow will be told in Part 2.

Warning: Part 2 will not be the most appetizing story ever told. For those with a delicate stomach, perhaps it is best to avoid, like fried food itself. For those who don't mind a rather indelicate tale of bodily functions, see you tomorrow :)

Related Posts: Ice Cream Sandwiches, Hot Dogs and Fries, Nathan's

The Damned

There is an entire group of people in New York City who never eat at home, i.e., they eat out every meal, less perhaps a quick snack or light breakfast. This city, better than anywhere in the United States, easily enables such a lifestyle with its staggering array of choices in restaurants, both in number and type. And for a very large number of New Yorkers, particularly living in Manhattan, restaurants are literally steps from their home. Being able to walk within a neighborhood such as the Village, for example, with its plethora of eating establishments, is one of the great joys and perks of being a resident of New York. For many visitors, restaurants are the number one reason to be here.

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Lover's Lane

East New York, Brooklyn, is one of the worst neighborhoods in the five boroughs of New York City. It is unlikely that you have ever visited or will ever visit. You won't find it in your not-for-tourists or secret New York guides. But, perhaps you are like me and don't trust what people tell you without corroboration. This is what garnered me respect with Mark Birnbaum (see here and here), when I asked him if he would be kind enough to show me documentation for his claims.

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Extreme Snoozing, Part 2

(see Part 1 here)

Meet Evan, Last of the Beat Generation. He has been writing since he was a child and recently was the featured guest at a poetry reading at Barnes and Noble Books in the Village, which is where I took this photo. You can see Evan reading his work in my video.

From an early age, Evan's peers applauded his writing talents. By age 15, Evan was taking a serious interest in poetry, writing and reading voraciously at the New York Public Library at 42nd Street and Fifth Avenue.

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Extreme Snoozing

I have met a very small number of people in my life who are so relaxing to be around that their character is a soothing balm and to be with them is like basking in the warm sun. There is typically a tone of voice that is part of the overall soothing quality. Their character is so striking and disarmingly easy that one just wants to be in their presence. I can easily bring up the names and faces of the few in my lifetime who I have found to be this way, such as Su Jung, whom I wrote about in Friends (see Part 1 and Part 2). Do you know such people?

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Intelligent Design

Creationists often use one of the three classic arguments for the existence of God: that of Intelligent Design, going back centuries. In the 13th century, Thomas Aquinas argued that natural things act to achieve the best result, and as they cannot do this without intelligence, an intelligent being must exist. William Paley in 1802 used the watchmaker analogy to argue that complexity and adaptation in nature demonstrated God's benevolent and perfect design for the good of humans.

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I'll Take the Beret

I was in Gizzi's when a friend whispered to me that a short distance away was a classic throwback image: a woman wearing a bright red beret, sitting in a cafe. A bit pressured to catch her on camera, I learned only minutes later that she was one of the musical performers, affording me the opportunity for a more composed shot, appropriately with a framed photo of James Dean behind her.

One of the iconic elements of the Beat generation's dress was the beret. New York City was deeply entwined with the Beats, for a time the home of the man who invented the phrase itself: Jack Kerouac. The origins of the the Beats can be traced to Columbia University with the meeting of Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Lucien Carr, Hal Chase, and others.

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Less of an Ass

In New York City, kind words stand out, as do gentle souls, genteel manners, and thoughtfulness. Some people exude one or more such qualities, and for a New Yorker, these people are show stoppers. Often this is a cultural trait, whether owing to another region of the United States or perhaps another country. This was what made meeting someone like Su Jung from Korea, featured in my story Friends (see Part 1 and Part 2), or Jamie Adkins in Kind Words, totally disarming. The impact was large enough to inspire an entire story based largely around each of their extraordinary characters.

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Europe?

I have not been to many book signings, but one which I did attend was that of Terry Miller for Greenwich Village and How it Got That Way, published in 1990. I do love the Village, but like many New Yorkers, I do find that it can, at times, be a love-hate relationship. When I met Terry for the signing, I complained to him about things I disliked about the Village. He dismissed it immediately, saying, "Where are you going to go? Europe?" He was right. I had found no urban enclave in the United States that had the ambiance and charm of the West Village in New York City.

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Ice Cream Sandwiches

I clearly remember the day a classmate sat across from me in the lunchroom with only ice cream sandwiches and milk for lunch. How envious I was. Wow. Just ice cream sandwiches for lunch, washed down with a small milk.

A full lunch at the time was 30 cents. Apparently, there was no law that said someone had to buy lunch and could not buy a number of ice cream sandwiches instead. However, such a thought never even occurred to us, much less doing it. Please note the plural on sandwiches, because, I believe at the time, they were five cents each. Which likely means that he had five plus the milk.

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Hopping

(Click the photo below to go to YouTube for my video tour of Neir's)

As a young boy growing up outside New York City, swamps and forests were the environs of choice for exploration. My best friend, Jaime, whom I know is reading these words, can attest to that, and our daily adventures brought us great joy and finds. There was nothing like a swamp for all manner of critters. Sometimes, following the lead of frogs who traversed ponds and swamps on lily pads, we would also travel across these waters, hopping onto tufted outgrowths. As might be expected, landing on such small targets and balancing for the next hop was often unsuccessful, and the drying of soaked sneakers and socks became the order of the late afternoon.

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The Way You Like It

When I was a child and was displeased in any way with food being served, perhaps requesting a change, my mother would invariably say, "This is not a restaurant," or "If you don't like it, go to a restaurant." So, more and more, I was looking forward to a time when I could explore such a place called a "restaurant" and, ostensibly, get things the way I wanted them. I saw early evidence of the wonders of restaurant service on one of my first family trips to Virginia, where aiming to please by waitstaff was the the highest priority and raison d'être, as it should be.

Unfortunately, I chose to settle in New York City, not Virginia, and I was to learn that this city was not the ideal place to fulfill my mother's promise. Here, a diner is often made to feel like a waiter is doing them a favor. Special requests are often greeted with an expression of annoyance. Frequently, you are told that something cannot be done when, in reality, it is the waiter that is unwilling to do it. Multiple requests mean multiple trips for the waiter, and soon one begins to learn that living with things the way they are is better than getting what you want at the expense of having a surly waiter, someone often disgruntled, frustrated, and resentful in having to work tables rather than their chosen profession.

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My Ride With André

I loved My Dinner With André. This award winning film is a two-hour conversation between two individuals in a restaurant in New York City. On the basis of the premise, it might appear that such a film would be boring, but quite the contrary. I found it very engaging and at times, even riveting.
Good conversation is often overlooked as an activity or reason to get together, even by those who greatly enjoy it and engage in the most impassioned interactions imaginable.

When I was in college, invariably someone would interrupt a very animated discussion with "So what are we doing?" meaning, of course, What are we doing tonight? Where are we going?, etc. He or she would get little response as the rest of us would be completely immersed in conversation. The question would come up again and again, sometimes others joining in the mix, round-robin style. There was a nagging quality to the desperate plea, the asker irritated that no one was listening to the question, everyone was wasting time, and no decision as to the night's plan was being made. Yet no one appeared to see the irony of the situation. Our impassioned conversation(s) were likely more interesting than anything we would find outside.

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Amorino

I have walked by Amorino numerous times. Its beautiful interior led me to believe that it would be very overpriced and more likely selling the decor rather than the product. I learned otherwise. I recently was with a friend, also a nearby resident, and neither of us had yet ventured in. So, both ice cream lovers, we went in on a whim. Given the decor, our first surprise was that the pricing was in line with others like Cones, not more - reasonable by current standards for a gourmet gelato. And the flavors looked awesome, so sampling was de rigeur. And the quality was, let us say, extraordinary.

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A Sharp Focus

I once was expressing my interest in traveling to Singapore to a friend, born in Taiwan and knowledgable regarding Asia. It seemed to be a beautiful destination - both tropical and pristine. However, said friend said that she would never go to any country that did not have an art museum (there is at least one art museum now). This reminded me of conversations in my early days in New York City - an echo of the sentiment against the well-manicured lawn and gentrification.

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Sundey

I was a vegetarian for decades and quickly learned that for good vegetarian food, it is better to find ethnic cuisines that have large concentrations of vegetarian dishes than to eat at vegetarian or natural food restaurants. Historically, the establishments of these restaurants are driven more by what the food is NOT than by the desire to offer great cuisine. Of course, taste is a consideration, but not the primary raison d'etre.

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One-Trick Pony

Not everyone is blessed with the depth and breadth of the Renaissance man. Often, a person may only have a singular talent, skill, idea, or gimmick which is clever but, like the one-tricky pony of early America, is not enough to build a world around. A circus needs more than one act.
However, in New York City, with careful husbandry and aggressive marketing, one can cultivate even the most singular ideas and make a splash. In some cases, entire careers can be built around one trick, like the Naked Cowboy. Others, who are less ambitious, more interested in casual fun, or just want to enjoy the occasional limelight and ego boost can enjoy a degree of notoriety. Characters often frequent regular events or become neighborhood institutions - the proverbial big fish in the small pond. People like Spike or André, for example, are household names in the Village.

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Bergdorf Holiday Windows 2011

The Bergdorf Goodman holiday window display is nothing short of SPECTACULAR. There is absolutely no contest in New York City. I have featured selections from their windows - for a complete gallery of this year's photos, see here. Window displays wrap around three sides of the building - Fifth Avenue, 57th and 58th Streets. The windows must be seen and are a worthwhile destination, even for those who must travel. It is a yearly ritual for me, and I am never disappointed. For those who would like to stroll with me, see the video below. Happy Holidays, and thanks to the staff of Bergdorf's!



Related Posts: Bergdorf Holiday Windows 2010, Bergdorf Windows 2009