Separated at Birth?

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Carter Brey
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Separated at Birth?

Post by Carter Brey »

On the left, the flywheel of a 1979 Volvo MD7A.

On the right, part of the meat slicer, circa 1945, at Barney Greengrass, "The Sturgeon King", Amsterdam Avenue, Upper West Side, New York City.

Coincidence?

[img]http://pws.prserv.net/cbrey/wheels.jpg[/img]
Neil Gordon
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Re: Separated at Birth?

Post by Neil Gordon »

There are no coincidences.
Fair winds, Neil

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Warren Kaplan
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Re: Separated at Birth?

Post by Warren Kaplan »

Carter Brey wrote:On the left, the flywheel of a 1979 Volvo MD7A.

On the right, part of the meat slicer, circa 1945, at Barney Greengrass, "The Sturgeon King", Amsterdam Avenue, Upper West Side, New York City.

Coincidence?

[img]http://pws.prserv.net/cbrey/wheels.jpg[/img]
Barney used that Volvo engine on his boat when going out to get all the sturgeon from the Caspian Sea, back in the "old country". He figured out how to use that engine to process the fish, as well as meat later on, while still at sea. Fresh..Fresh...Fresh. I could never stay out of New York Delis either, as I was raised on smoked fish my father brought home from a smokehouse in Bklyn, just up the street from his factory. :D

Barney brought his secret to the New World...as the old ways never die.

What I can't quite figure out is how you managed to be hanging around the Sturgeon King on a work day even if its close by your place. I know....you sprang for appetizers for the whole cello section today! There will be a lot of cats hangin' around the garbage cans behind Avery Fisher hall tonight!
"I desire no more delight, than to be under sail and gone tonight."
(W. Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice)
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NANP
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Aaaah, but I think you're missing Carter's point . . .

Post by NANP »

. . . and considering his profession, I just hope he's not missing any fingers! :wink:

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Oswego John
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Sturgeon, Smoked Fish

Post by Oswego John »

Hi all,

Boy, this thread jogged my memory. Years ago, many, many years past, we had little money but lots of laughs and good times. We had our circle of friends, guys and gals.

Not too often some of us would "go to the city" (NYC). One day a couple of friends and I "went in." I never gave it much thought that they were Jewish and I was the only goyim (Christian) in the group.

They took me downtown to the eastside, not far from Little Italy and Chinatown. They were hellbent on going to Katz's Deli. If I remember, after all these years, it was on Houston (How-stun) Street.

What a place. I'll never forget the aroma as we approached the entrance. It was the first time I had ever been to a Kosher deli. The men behind the counter didn't use a slicing machine to cut the meat. All the meat was sliced with the sharpest butcher knives imaginable. When I mentioned this to my friends, they said that that was how you do it in a Kosher deli.

They carried sturgeon, smoked fish, kefilte fish(sp), the most succulent corned brisket of beef, pastrami, salami, and the list goes on and on. The meat was served on what they called clubs, something like a hero roll. If you wanted a dill pickle, you used a pair of tongs and went "pearl diving" for the pickle in a huge wooden barrel filled with dill brine. Talk about pigging out. To eat, you sat at bistro tables with bent wire legged, plain, wooden chairs.

Do any of the readers remember Bloomingdale's or Klein-On-The-Square department stores just a block or two away? How about McSorelys old ale house?

Ah memories.

O J
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M. R. Bober
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Post by M. R. Bober »

John,
May I suggest Joseph Mitchell's "Up in the Old Hotel" for your reading pleasure? He wrote for the "New Yorker" in its heyday. The book centers on the Fulton Fish Market (Brooklyn) and the lives of the fishermen, fishmongers, and other characters associated with the trade and locale. If memory serves it is a late 1930s view.

Mitchell was a superb writer (as you would have expected to find in the "New Yorker" during its heyday), and this book is worth the read.

All of that aside, you've made me hungry!
Every best wish,

Mitchell Bober
Sunny Annapolis (where there ain't no lower East side), MD

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Warren Kaplan
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Post by Warren Kaplan »

Mitchell Bober
Sunny Annapolis (where there ain't no lower East side), MD


Hey Mitch,
My dad was one of ten children and he grew up in the Jewish neighborhoods of Manhattan's lower east side. With all those kids in a small apartment they slept 3-in-a-bed. The stories he used to tell me when I was growing up are priceless. I used to go down there to visit "the old neighborhood" when I was a kid, but its changed now.

I'll have to look into the book you mentioned!
"I desire no more delight, than to be under sail and gone tonight."
(W. Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice)
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M. R. Bober
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Post by M. R. Bober »

Warren,
Is Isaac Gellis still on Delancy Street (or was it Essex St.)? My father was their Maryland/DC/Virginia distributor for 45 years. I used to visit their plant every few years, with my dad & his partner.

Every best wish,
Mitchell Bober
Sunny Annapolis (where you can't get decent heartburn from lunch),MD
Last edited by M. R. Bober on Feb 10th, '06, 13:30, edited 1 time in total.
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Neil Gordon
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Re: Sturgeon, Smoked Fish

Post by Neil Gordon »

Oswego John wrote:They were hellbent on going to Katz's Deli.
They still have the (faded) sign in the window: "Send a salami to your boy in the Army." They also have a sign behind the counter that says, "No Tipping!" The secret to a super sized corned beef sandwich is to hold a folded up dollar in your hand and point to the deli case... "How's the corned beef?" The deli guy sees the dollar and cuts you a sample slab. Then, as he carves for your sandwich, it's two for the sandwich, one for you to taste, etc. (Don't forget to give him the dollar or it won't work the next time; these guys have long memories!)

Klein's dept. store was on Union Sqare, at 14th street.
Fair winds, Neil

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Richard G.
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Murry - The Sturgeon King

Post by Richard G. »

Murry "The Sturgeon King" would give my dog Murry, lox whenever we went into the store.
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Warren Kaplan
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Re: Sturgeon, Smoked Fish

Post by Warren Kaplan »

Neil Gordon wrote:
Oswego John wrote:They were hellbent on going to Katz's Deli.
They still have the (faded) sign in the window: "Send a salami to your boy in the Army." They also have a sign behind the counter that says, "No Tipping!" The secret to a super sized corned beef sandwich is to hold a folded up dollar in your hand and point to the deli case... "How's the corned beef?" The deli guy sees the dollar and cuts you a sample slab. Then, as he carves for your sandwich, it's two for the sandwich, one for you to taste, etc. (Don't forget to give him the dollar or it won't work the next time; these guys have long memories!)

Klein's dept. store was on Union Sqare, at 14th street.
Neil,
I do remember all that . And, of course, if you went in to one of these places to buy 1/2 a pound of cold cuts, some old lady would always be accusing the deli clerk of having his thumb on the scale!!

By the way, the buck in hand also got you lean corned beef. Otherwise it came with plenty of fat! Man...it was a ritual going into these places. You played the game or they knew your were from "out of town"!
"I desire no more delight, than to be under sail and gone tonight."
(W. Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice)
chase
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sights and smells

Post by chase »

Carter and others,

What a great post, I love talking sailing but I also enjoy this bonus stuff. I still imagine the smell of violin and shoe shops that you spoke of a while back....The violin shop stirred me the most and I imagine rosin, lacquer, glues and all sorts of other things mingling together to create this great earthy smell.

The butcher we use is the only small-scale processor in 75 sq miles, an old family abattoir out in the country. They cut more than 20,000 pounds of meat for us every year to sell to customers direct but they also raise their own hogs and have people raise beeves for them to sell in their meat counter.

It's no kosher deli, that's for sure, but it does have it's own flavor and people come from all around to get cuts and parts they just can't get at the grocery. One of the more popular items? Fresh, thick, fatback. Sells for more than the good loin chops. Mountain folks love good, thick fatback. They also sell their own homemade molasses and whatever is prolific in the garden that time of year.

Anyway, the place has a smell of it's own and our grassfed beef has it's own complex flavors. The hanging beef takes on a lovely bouquet, which I've come to love and find unique to beef hanging in their locker.

They keep their own primal cut to age for months, cutting a steak off as needed and scraping away the green stuff. mmmmm. It really is tasty.

Chase
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Len
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Bygone Days

Post by Len »

I left NYC almost forty years ago. Still miss -the bad for you now but great for you than- deli stuff. When my folks were alive they would occasionally send a hard salami. I always wondered what the locals thought about the bullet shapped package protruding from our rural mailbox. Rumor has it that the "STAGE DELI" is closing down (Broadway and 4? Street). The best we usually manage is a visit to Reins Deli near Hartford conn.
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Post by yves feder w1ux »

This is the famous "COINCIDENZA DI COLUMBUS AVENUE" documented in song and dance by the Veulveu Sisters from Steuckheulm...... lots of pickled herring, smoked whitefish and yes, even seulmen brought in by the Fighting Fishermen of Treumseu, Norway, went through those fine sister machines to the rhythm of the Veulveu Sisters!

Occasionally a truck with a Veulveu diesel would pass by Barney's on its way down Coleumbus Avenue, and the slicing machine would vibrate sympathetically, reaching out to its ceusin on the street.....

I sure enjoyed the rhythm of my MD-2B's on two feurmer beuts that I had over the yeurs; long may Veulveu wave!

Sven
(visiting at Yves' yurt in Connecticut)
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Bob Owens
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Up In The Old Hotel

Post by Bob Owens »

I would enthusiastically second Mitch Bober's recommendation of the Mitchell book, UP IN THE OLD HOTEL. Anyone enjoying stories of Manhattan "in the old days" (pre-1960) will love it. Here is reflected deep knowledge of the soul of the city that only a newspaper reporter of the old school could muster.
Bob Owens
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