A Little Nosh-stalgia: KZ in NYC, 1972–79

23rd Street looking east from Broadway. SPI had two locations on the south side of 23rd, one at 34 E (vertical arrow) and then 44 E 23rd (diagonal arrow) where SPI had the entire 11th Floor. I took the 7th Ave IRT to work and had to pass by here every day walking to and from the subway (1974 photo). Flatiron bldg. just off to R.

[The following related passage is excerpted from the Manhattan Valley blog post.]

My natural range was the West 70’s between Riverside and Central Park—I could find any household item in an area less than half a mile in any cardinal direction. This is important when errands must be accomplished on foot, you plan your stops in order and don’t want any back-tracking. Usually my final stop was the West End Superette on the corner of 72^nd and West End, two blocks from the apartment I shared with Ina. The All Star Café on 72^nd, my destination for pork chops, became the location for a novel called “Searching for Mr. Goodbar,” Judith Rossner's 1975 best-seller (film version 1977). If I just wanted a burger, there was a sidewalk café on 72^nd with a sign saying, “Apetitosas,” so maybe the owner was Argentinian. Further along 72^nd St. was Gristede’s grocery store, well-stocked and reliable. I patronized all the shops as far as the IRT, at 72^nd St., which was convenient to go anywhere. The bookstore on that block sold me A Confederate General from Big Sur, by Richard Brautigan, and Image Music Text by Roland Barthes.

On Broadway was the flower shop, fish and produce stands, the Kosher bakery and butcher. On the far side of Broadway was the hardware store, Janovic Plaza, where we bought all the paint and wallpaper. Over on Columbus was “The Silver Palate,” the overpriced gourmet. Next to that was Al Buon Gusto, a down-home Italian eatery, the most affordable decent meal in the neighborhood. My friend Scott always ordered the eggplant parmesan, because it was the cheapest thing on the menu. But it was luxury to me to be able to escape cooking. With my penchant for bread & butter I liked the way they put butter on the side spaghetti. 

My neighborhood ended at the next stop on the IRT, 79^th (front exit at 80^th Street). Zabar’s and H&H Bagels, at that corner, were the farthest I had to walk on Sunday mornings.

I walked almost every day down Broadway as far as work or to Washington Square Park, and had incredible experiences, covering over 7 miles a day. At work, the corner of 23^rd and Park Avenue South was always crowded with business people in trenchcoats not enjoying them-selves, despite the greenery of Madison Square Park, across the street from the Metropol-itan Life Co., with its thousands of actuaries calculating people’s life expectancy to the nearest heartbeat beneath a pyramidal headquarters spire.

I lived in the Upper West Side for seven years—a brownstone oasis on the cool and shady side-streets. After Ina and I broke up I moved to one of those streets: 95^th, five doors off Central Park West. That part of Central park is very deep, with a stream at the bottom lined with Willow trees. I loved to sit on their branches overhanging the water. The sounds of the city above were muffled in the distance. It was a different world where I went for my nature fix.