“Sammy, I Hunger for You…” The memento from a vanished era literally almost hit me in Morton Williams…
By Dee-Dee Diamond(c)2022
She came at me blindly with her cart, just another plain grey- haired woman shopper, in the supermarket. Another invisible old Foggie except for her ancient pinkish top.
Her faded pink t-shirt from “Sammy’s Parkway Restaurant” in blue & white script with a giant seltzer bottle logo, caught me off-guard like a pickled lox!
That ugly shirt touched my heart, then hit my nostalgia button. Before I knew it it is wakened my salivating juices.
“Sammy’s Parkway Restaurant” was a lower Eastside vintage favorite.
It was out of business for years now…another New York City joy gone…and but forgotten… until I spotted that shirt.
I startled the woman when I pointed rudely and with gusto screamed at her shirt, “Sammy’s, Oh Sammy’s “.
“I remember that great spot…are they re-opening”?
“No…I wish they would”! she exclaimed, not frightened by me anymore.
Some customers passing us jumped into my outburst…” Oh I loved Sammy’s; we miss it too”!
Soon we had a small gaggle of Sammy Parkway lovers joining in reminiscing the momentous times spent there blocking… the narrow meat aisle until some grumpy old gizzard barked, “Coulda move the heck outa the way”!
Now, let me paint the picture of “Sammy’s Parkway”, in a converted cellar, patrons had to walk down a cement stairway, that an 80-year-old tenement sat above. During the day, pushcarts lined its busy street.
Whose idea was it to name it “Parkway”, anyway? Truth be told… it should have been named “Sammy’s Cellar”.
The checkboard covered tables each had a blue old-fashioned seltzer bottle, glasses, vat of homemade sauerkraut, surrounded by sour pickles &tomatoes, and pickled red peppers. This potpourri hit the table as soon as customers butts touched their chairs. The unpainted tin ceiling reflected the gas lit sconces and muted etched glass chandlers. It felt like some Bohemian hideaway in old Europe.
A bowl of warm rendered chicken skin cracklings, with fried onions, floated in schmaltz, and dish of chopped liver. All this deliciousness to schmear on fresh sliced rye, in a basket, out of the Delancey Street bakery around the corner. Drinks and appetizers to be noshed, until dinner got underway…shortly.
All this and then a menu of Eastern-European dishes like matzoh ball/noodle or mushroom barley soup or beet or cabbage borsht.
Gefilte fish, salads, brisket, breaded fried cutlets, chicken, stuffed cabbage, Kasha Vaniska's, stuffed derma, tzimmes, kugel or boiled vegetables. Pick your poison! Delicious greasy, carbo laden foods we love to hate…today.
This was followed by desserts…all homemade delights!
Strudels', pies, made of fresh fruit harvested from the push carts right out their doorway. Cinnamon/raisin rugelach, crunchy marbled Mandel bread, sponge cake, and assorted cookies.
Not to worry… the heavy dinner was “washed down” with a glass of hot tea & lemon.
All the while a combo sang making for the festive atmosphere…while diners gorged.
Kibbitzing and keeping the diners involved, in-between sets was part of their job.
A piece of European immigrant eatery from the early in the last century.
