November 20, 2011

Live, from New York, it’s Cheeseburger Saturday Night! Tonight’s host is Eisenberg’s Sandwich Shop and featuring the Ready for Prime Beef Player, Marty Wombacher. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, Eisenberg’s Sandwich Shop!

It's a rare MAD episode where we venture out in the somewhat upsetting daylight. We're headed to legendary Eisenberg's Sandwich Shop and while they're open till 8PM on weeknights, on Saturdays they close at 6PM, so we'll make the sacrifice of heading out when the sun is still shining to have a cheeseburger at this historical New York sandwich eatery.

And here we are, as the sign says, Eisenberg's has been on the block since 1929.

Here's the front of the restaurant which is a narrow, long shotgun space with a classic counter, red stools and tables opposite of it.

There's a dining area in the back.

But I decide to sit at the counter.

And the lovely Tess hands me a menu. Tess has been working here for close to 4 months and told me she loves it here. It's a friendly neighborhood joint for sure.

Pictures of celebrities who have eaten here hang behind the counter...

And there's lots of them on the wall opposite the counter, let's check some of them out.

Here's Spike Lee and owner of Eisneberg's, Josh Konecky.

MIchael Imperioli and Josh.

A purple bespectacled Tim Allen and Josh.

Jim Belushi and Josh...Belushi...hmmm...that makes me think of something...

Cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger!

A delicious burger with cheddar cheese, bacon and a really fresh bun.

Super-cute Kelly is manning the front cash register and the bill is paid...

And its out into the night, where it's finally dark out. Hooray! Goodnight and see you tomorrow after dark.

My Meal
I got the Eisenberger, which is a half pound sirloin burger and I got it topped with cheddar cheese and bacon. The burger is grilled over an open flame and was cooked perfectly and served on a bakery fresh bun. A nice, all-American burger, delicious. I got it with onion rings and asked for them extra well done, something that a lot of restaurants and diners just can’t seem to get, but like everything, Eisenberg’s gets it right and they were extra crispy, crunchy and perfect. For my drink I had the chocolate malted which is creamy, smooth and probably the best malted in town.

Eisenberg’s is known for their generous sized sandwiches and there’s over fifty to choose from including: Hot Pastrami, Tuna Salad, Meatloaf and Fried Salami or Bologna. There’s also burgers, soups, eggs and omelettes available on the menu. Beverages include: Egg Cream, Malted, Lime Rickey and an Arnold Palmer. Full breakfast meals and platters are served Monday through Friday till 11 am.

Cheeseburger Rating
Three Wimpy’s—a great burger!

Eisenberg’s Sandwich Shop
174 Fifth Avenue (Near 22nd St.)
212-675-5096

Further reading: Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York, Midtown Lunch and Roadfood.

She don’t have to be assured of many thing to find,
And she’ll always be there, my love don’t care about time.

(Surprise link...click on it...I dare you!)

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Bonus Photo Album By Gene Rubbico!

Two thirds of the BBC, Gene and Smoopy were in town last weekend and Gene took some great photos. Check them out here: Gene's New York Photo Album.

November 19, 2011

It’s been quite a week at Zuccotti Park and for the Occupy Wall Street movement. Tuesday Mayor Bloomberg ordered the park to be emptied out by cops and hundreds of people got arrested and beaten up in the process, including journalists and photographers with press credentials trying to cover what was going on. Police helicopters prevented media helicopters from filming police removing, arresting and beating people. I don’t know about you, but it makes me a little nervous when reporters start getting arrested for doing their jobs. Can you say, “Police State?” Mayor Bloomberg said at a press conference that journalists were barred from covering the police raid on the park, "to protect members of the press." Huh? Protect them from what? Doing their jobs? There was a lot of protests on Thursday and a march across the Brooklyn Bridge. Goggla has some great photos from Thursday at her blog: The Gog Log.

The park has reopened, but you can’t bring in sleeping bags or tents and I think you have to go through a security check. I thought it would be interesting to go down and take some photos tonight.

Here we are, a block away from Zuccotti Park.

Wow, it looks like a different place and it looks like it's closed.

There's barricades all around the perimeter of the park.

I found an entrance into the park, but so far all I see are security guards inside.

It's kind of spooky in here.

I think this is where the kitchen area was. It's kind of hard to tell.

There appears to be people down at the far end of the park, let's go check it out.

There's about fifty people gathered here at the far end of the park.

The kitchen has been reduced to one small table with cartons of juice and some bags of chips.

People are taking turns reading poetry and ideas.

The ironic backdrop to this is the Bank of America building looming behind them.

The People's Library has been started again after Bloomberg and his goons reportedly destroyed over 5,000 books from the library that had been here at the park. Even if they didn't want to give the books back, couldn't they have donated them to homeless shelters or libraries? When you start destroying books and jailing journalists with press credentials, it makes you wonder what kind of direction we're headed in.

There's not a lot of signage down here tonight, but Fabio had one he was happy to pose with. He wants to bring the idea of privilege into the protest and he agreed to bring one more thing into it as well...

Gumby! Whatever your feelings are on Occupy Wall Street, you can't deny that it's brought up discussions and an awareness that wasn't here before. It's going to be interesting to see what happens in the upcoming weeks. Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.

Further reading: Hufffington Post, NY Times and NY Daily News.

Tolling for the luckless, the abandoned and forsaked,
Tolling for the outcast, burning constantly at stake,
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

(Surprise link...click on it...I dare you!)

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Bonus Photo By Gene Rubbico!

Gene sent in this photo last night with the following caption: "Mural of a condom machine above the toilet, in the men's room, at Mum's, in Federal Hill, Baltimore." Cool, thanks for the photo, Gene!

November 18, 2011

I was looking at an old picture today in my apartment of a store that used to be on 14th Street called, Funny Cry Happy Gift. It was one of those kooky stores that sold everything from bags to batteries, to knock-off fake designer perfume, to wacky-ass plastic toys that fell apart five minutes after you bought them. I loved the name of the store and often wondered who thought of it and was there any meaning attached, or was it just something random. I remember one day about six years ago walking down 14th Street and—BOOM—it was gone. It was replaced by a cell phone store, I think. It was one of those heartbreaking New York moments when you wish you’d have taken the time to research and document the place. I’m glad I’ve got the one photo and tonight I thought I’d walk down there and take a photo of it today. It’s changed hands quite a few times since the Funny Cry Happy Gift days and I don’t even know what’s there today. I guess we’ll find out.

Goddamn, it's cold out here tonight, I dread old man winter coming.

The Empire State Building is purple tonight. Somewhere, Prince is happy.

"Talk To The Hand, Part I: She Knows I'm Taking This Picture."

"Talk To The Hand Part II: Lights, Camera...Arms?"

This makes me think of this headline.

What the fuck does this even mean? I've been standing here for over five minutes staring at this goddamned ad. Why does turkey luncheon meat need protecting? It's already dead for fuck's sake, what else are you going to do to it? Plus, what the fuck kind of sandwich is this? It's too tall to pick up, unless you have the hands of Herman Munster. I could probably spend my whole life standing here staring at this, but it's too cold, so let's move on. Who the fuck protects turkey luncheon meat? Okay, I'm out of here.

And here's the fork in the road.

Okay, we're almost there, it's up ahead, just beyond the golden arches.

There it is, let's go take a closer look.

Jason & Co, what the fuck kind of name is that for a store? And they buy gold and diamonds. Really? In this economy? Who's got gold and diamonds laying around waiting to sell? What kind of weirdness is this? And they also pawn. I wish they had a window so I could see what's going on in here, I need to stop back during working hours, this is a far cry from what it used to be. And speaking of that, let's take a trip back in time and look at my photo of what this store front used to look like.

Looking at this photo brings me right back to the day I looked at it and it was gone. Vanished, poof, wiped off the block and replaced with a fucking phone store and now it’s a gold trading store, whatever the fuck that is. When friends of mine came to town I used to always take them to the Stoned Crow bar and on the way I’d point out the Funny Cry Happy Gift store. More often than not we’d go in and buy some goofy trinket from the Chinese couple that owned the place. Funny Cry Happy Gift closed and then the Stoned Crow followed suit last year. Nothing lasts forever, we live in a world where where everything has an expiration date. I guess the lesson to be learned is to enjoy and savor things and people while they’re still here. Funny Cry Happy Gift, magical words.

Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.

Further reading: Flickr, Did You Just See What I Saw? and flickriver.

The powers that be,
That force us to live like we do,
Bring me to my knees,
When I see what they've done to you.

(Surprise link...click on it...I dare you!)

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Bonus Cartoon From Jaws!

MAD commenter and author, Jaws sent in this cartoon from the Axe Man Gift Shop. Thanks, Jaws!

November 17, 2011

Okay, since I didn’t get to go out in search of a swizzle stick yesterday, tonight’s the night, to quote either Neil Young or Rod the Mod. One bar I never made it to on the bar crawl but always meant to go was the Campbell Apartment in Grand Central Station. It’s kind of a fancy Dan joint and I’m thinking we may score a swizzle there. I’ve only been there twice, but if I remember correctly, It’s expensive, but I worked overtime last night so it’s off we go.

It's a rainy night out, but at least it's not that cold for this time of year.

That's what Jerry Sandusky said.

Down into the subway we go.

And with the blink of an eye and the magic of the internet, here we are, Grand Central Station.

I always come to the clock information booth in the middle of the main concourse to get my bearings.

Okay, up the stairs...

Out these doors...

And here we are, Campbell's Apartment. Let's go inside and see what's happening.

It’s dark in here and I’m putting my camera away. I just got hit by a wave of bad and scary vibrations. I’ve been in here before, but both of those times were in the day and the patrons were a somewhat harmless combination of wide-eyed tourists and weary commuters getting a high-priced drink before moving along and minding their own worthless business.

This crowd is weird in here tonight. Ages range from early thirties to very old. Everyone is draped in expensive duds, there’s a thirty-something woman in a black dress with a diamond on her finger which is the size of one of Rosie O’Donnell’s bowel movements. As I said, she’s in a black dress and she’s neither long nor cool, but her shiny silver shoes probably cost more than I make in five months of hard labor. She has shoulder length blonde hair, a bit of a lined and hard face and is cackling like a hen on mescaline at some old man croaking away in an expensive navy blue, pin-striped suit who somewhat resembles Cesar Romero with a thyroid condition. One strange thing is that no one’s drinking in here, it’s too crowded to get to the bar and people are holding drinks, but no one’s drinking them. This makes me nervous, over at McSorley’s right now, the patrons are throwing back beers served two at a time, like prohibition is going to rear its ugly head again at any minute. God, how I wish I was there.

I decide to take another picture, but as I do, several people have started eyeballing both myself and Gumby, so the shot turns out like shit. Everybody’s white in here and dressed to the nines, Gumby’s green and he’s nude. An unpopular and very wrong combination for this uptight and upperwardly mobile obscene crowd. I was getting flashed some pretty downward glances myself. Every man in here has an expensive suit and tie on, I’m wearing my seven-year-old black Navy pea coat, a black jean shirt with a hole in the sleeve and black Levi’s with a pizza stain on the left thigh. I sweat a lot and it’s hot in here, so perspiration is rolling down my face worse than Albert Brooks in Broadcast News. It’s very uncomfortable for me in here right now.

It was right then and there that the nerve-rattling and bone-chilling realization of where I was hit me in the face like a 700 pound bag of dead hamsters: It was the 1%! That’s right, I was right in the belly of the beast of the motherfucking 1%. The 99% can’t even get a decent foothold in Zuccotti Park, but the 1% are here at Occupy Campbell’s Apartment, lounging on expensive couches and eating free peanuts without a care. And why shouldn’t the peanuts be free, these greedy fuckheads probably own the motherfucking peanut factory. And the workers in the factory just took another 10% pay cut, so fill up those crystal bowls on the bar and strike up Alexander’s Ragtime Band.

I could feel the tension building, an outsider had snuck in to their fancy high priced lounge, one of those 99% scumballs who think you belong in jail just because you’ve pulled bank frauds, evaded taxes, manipulated stocks and pretty much ruined the economy while continuing to get rich off other people’s losses. They have my number all right and I have to think quick and get out the fuck out of here before one of their Nazi-like, goose-stepping, box-headed goons shows up and whisks me away to take me home, give me an eye-blinding spray pepper shower, beat me up, burn all my books and then throw me in jail for consorting with a green, nude, cartoon bag—that’s something that they really hate. All of a sudden I know what I have to do.

“Hi Mayor Bloomberg,” I shout out to the corner of the room in my best Eddie Haskell, “Gee you look swell, Mrs. Cleaver,” voice.

All heads turn to get an eyefull of their shifty, helium-brained, ferret-faced leader and Gumby and I race out the door and to the safety of a car on a downtown number six train. I click my heels three times on the way.

The Good Witch was right, there’s no place like home.

And there’s plenty of swizzle sticks here too. Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.

Occupy Campbell’s Apartment
Grand Central Terminal
15 Vanderbilt Ave. (Near 43rd St.)
212-953-0409

Further reading: Wonkblog, Rolling Stone and The Guardian.

I don’t give a damn ‘bout my reputation.
(Thanks to “Boris” for supplying the link.)

(Surprise link...click on it...I dare you!)

November 16, 2011

I had to work late tonight, so I was digging in my archives for something to put up, as I knew I wouldn’t have time to go anywhere because I have to get up and do this shit all over again tomorrow. Sometimes when I go digging through my old files I find things I completely forgot I did and  this happened tonight. I found two covers, a back cover and an interview I did with a bartender for a magazine I published in 2004. The magazine was called Bar Crawl and my idea was to do a TV Guide-sized publication all about New York bars, bartenders and the people inside of them. Yes, 95% of my ideas revolve around bars and drinking.

My idea was to give them away in the bars you wrote about and try to get them to advertise in them. I also thought other advertising possibilities could be beer companies, cigarettes, liquor and who knows, maybe even hooker/massage ads like the Village Voice runs. If they can’t pay, hey, take it out in trade!

So I did the first issue, it was a ton of work, I couldn’t sell any ads (I suck at selling ads and I’m terrible at business), it was a pain in the ass dropping them off at bars (although I did get a lot of free drinks while do so) and I got as far as designing the cover for the second issue and decided to try something else. I wrote my Fire Truck book, then started blogging on MySpace and I’ve been online ever since.

I didn’t think I had any of Bar Crawl backed up, but I found the two covers and an interview I did with a bartender, so here they are. Enjoy!

This is the first cover. It’s a picture of John Lennon snorting a bottle of Coke from a scene in “A Hard Day’s Night.” I never noticed it until I was watching the movie in the ‘80’s all fucked up on coke and booze and at first I thought I was hallucinating! The cover lines are fairly nonsensical.

Here’s the back cover of the first issue, I was hoping to sell it as an ad, but I had no takers, so I put up this picture I took of five girls at a horrific frat bar on the Upper West side called, Bourbon Street. They were in various stages of drunkenness and the one on the end couldn’t even talk. I remember saying to her, “Your parents must be so gosh-darned proud of you!” Sadly the sarcasm was lost in translation. And the kicker is that it was just 5PM on a Sunday afternoon! I have a feeling she didn’t make any of her classes on Monday.

This is the second cover for the issue that never was. I thought I’d do a bathroom themed issue and was thrilled when I found this picture of Diana Ross shooting up on a toilet from the film, “Lady Sings The Blues.” I wanted to do a bathroom issue because it was issue number two. Get it? Bathrooms, number two, hello, anybody out there, Bueller...Bueller...Bueller...

The only other thing I found besides the covers are some photos and an interview with Dani Marco who was a bartender and had the distinction of being Ms. Rheingold. She was really nice and it was a fun interview, even though I couldn’t quit obsessing over the fact that she got free Rheingold for a year! Oh and Rheingold never did buy an ad, they went out of business about a year later I believe. Anyhoo, here’s the interview.

Hey Bartender!
Dani Marco wears many hats and one tiara. She’s a seasoned young actor having appeared on national TV, on stage and in film. In addition Dani has studied and taught dance and was voted Miss Rheingold of 2004. In between all this activity she still finds time to bartend occasionally at 13 Little Devils Bar on the lower east side. And that’s exactly where we found her catching her breath after just wrapping up filming a national ad for Macy’s Department store.

So how long have you been a bartender here at 13 Little Devils?
Oh God, since the inception. I’ve been here since the beginning of the bar a couple of years ago.
Is it a good gig to have as far as the acting career goes?
It’s a great gig, because it’s nighttime work. I?can audition during the day.
Do you have flexible hours here?
Yeah, it all depends on the acting jobs. I’m more or less a freelance bartender. (Laughs) Everything I do is freelance.

You were crowned Miss Rheingold last year, how has that gone for you?
It’s been really fun. It’s very  cool to be part of a classic New York business.
Do you drink Rheingold?
I like it. And I get free Rheingold, so that’s cool.
You get free Rheingold all year?
Yeah.
All year?
Yep. But I don’t drink a whole lot, so they got off easy with me.
Jesus, free beer for a year, they’d be broke if it was me. So let me get this straight, you just order it and you get it free?
Yeah I can order it and they’ll send it to my house.
I’d go nuts if I had that deal. (Ed. note: Notice how I can’t let this go. I sound like some sort of alcoholic dork.) So you could just call right now and order four cases and they’d bring them.
Yeah, that’s all I have to do.
Wow, that boggles my mind.
It’s a nice perk.
Do you get to keep your Miss Rheingold tiara?
I don’t know. It’s kind of fun, I never thought I’d wear one in my life.
You ought to try and sell it on Ebay.
Actually there’s a lot of Rheingold collectibles for sale on Ebay.
So  your Miss Rheingold reign is just about over?
Yes, I’ll be passing it on to the next winner.
So what advice do you have for the next Miss Rheingold?
Umm...get a gym membership. (laughs) No, I’m just kidding. Just enjoy it, you know? The Rheingold people are really laid back, they want it to be fun. The promotional appearances are always a good time and I got to be in the Mermaid Parade in Coney Island which was a blast.
Are you going to continue to do anything with Rheingold in the future.
Yeah, I’m going to keep drinking it. (Laughs)

Sounds good. Getting back to bartending, what’s the best tip you’ve ever gotten?
It was this young kid in a suit and tie and he was armed with his company’s gold express card. He was trying to impress this girl, so he’s buying expensive drinks and eventually bought a bottle of Dom Perignon. When he got the tab he tipped me $300! I?couldn’t believe it. Hopefully he still had his job after he turned in that expense report.
Okay, what’s the best tip you’ve ever gotten as far as the acting career goes?
I cut out a quote that I love. It reads: You’re unique, develop a method of your own. It was in Backstage. It’s taped to my mirror.
What are some highlights of your acting career up to this date?
I don’t know if this is a highlight, but I just finished filming a national TV commercial for Macy’s, so I’m excited about that.
You’ve acted in some movies, right?
Oh yeah, one of them went national, Games People Play: New York. I had a lead role in that film, so that was exciting.
And didn’t Richard Roeper single you out when him and Ebert reviewed it on their show?
Yeah, that was so cool. The publicist for the film had seen the transcripts of the show in advance and called me and said, “You might want to tape the Ebert and Roeper show this week.” They reviewed the movie and Richard Roeper says, “But I’ll tell you, you mentioned two of these actors, I think this Dani Marco in particular she could be a star.  I don't know if she’s playing this character or it’s really her or whatever the case may be...” and I about fell out of my chair. That was a nice moment.

No kidding, that’s great. Well I just have one last question, how do you make a Tom Collins?
(Laughs) I have no idea. That’s kind of a senior drink, isn’t it?
I didn’t want one anyway. I think it’s named after Phil Collins dad.
--------------------------------------------
Okay, hopefully tomorrow I’ll get out of work on time and I’ll go out on a Wednesday in search of a swizzle stick. See you tomorrow, after dark.

Further reading: It’s A Sickness, The Daily Beast and Business Insider.

Hey Bartender, hey man look here,
Draw one, two, three, four glasses of beer.

(Surprise link...click on it...I dare you!)

November 15, 2011

I’m kind of tired tonight and have a headache tonight, so I thought for tonight’s sixpack of photos, I’d just take photos of signs on posts and walls on my way home and then marry them up to videos while drinking an actual six pack at home, so awaaay we go!

Didn't you love the things that they stood for?
Didn't they try to find some good for you and me?

When you looked at me I should've run,
But I thought it was just for fun.

They're doin' the rat,
Keep your trap shut.
Do the rat,
Be a cool cat.

She holds her head so high,
Like a statue in the sky,
Her arms are wicked, and her legs are long.
(And in case you didn’t know it, this song is a total ripoff of The Kinks, “All Day And All Of The Night.”)

It's just apartment house rules,
So all you apartment house fools,
Remember: one man's ceiling,
is another man's floor.

And says, "How does it feel,
To be such a freak?"
And you say, "Impossible,"
As he hands you a bone.

Further reading: Wikipedia, Walking Home and Joe Sixpack.

Bug.

(Surprise link...click on it...I dare you!)

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Bonus McRib Linkage

Kate from One More Folded Sunset sent in this disturbing link of Germany's take on the McRib: Fat and Tasty.

November 14, 2011

My friends, Gene and Smoopy from the BBC are in town for one more night and Gene suggested we meet at the Lyric Diner. It brought back a memory and a story which started out my book, 99 Beers off the Wall. So let’s go to the Lyric Diner, I’ll take a picture and then tell you the story of an afternoon lunch at the Lyric Diner that went woefully wrong!

An Upsetting Afternoon At The Lyric Diner
In 1997 or ’98 a guy we’ll call Alvin (I swore to him I’d never tell this story, so the least I can do is change his name) had moved here to Manhattan. He was a writer I had known for a while and we decided to have lunch. He was going to tell me his plans for the future in this city some call the Big Apple. I never do...call it the Big Apple that is. I meet him at his apartment and he suggests we go to his neighborhood local, The Lyric Diner. So we walk to the diner, it’s Sunday around 1:30 p.m., and it’s jam-packed with patrons all hungering for a patty melt and fries with gravy and other daily diner specials.

We get a table towards the back in the middle of the rectangular, brightly lit diner. I usually don’t eat much in the daytime, so I have a diet Coke and a glass of water. But Alvin really packs it in. Eggs, sausage, toast, bacon, potatoes, jelly, butter, coffee and I think cheese was involved somewhere in the course of the meal. It was the brunch special and it was more food than I’d ever seen someone eat for breakfast in my entire life of watching other people eat breakfast. And he was really shoveling it down fast and furious, Fatty Arbuckle style.

He had just jammed the last forkful of the gargantuan feast in his mouth and started to say something, but then he gags. His eyes cross for the briefest of moments, and then he starts choking. I ask him if he’s alright and he puts his hand to his mouth. Only one second of normalcy remained for the rest of our stay in The Lyric Diner. For it was then that puke started to stream between his fingers and he stood up over the table and let out an ear-piercing BARRRRRFFFF! sound and puked all over the table. And then he did it again. And then, just for good measure, he did it once more with feeling.

By now I’ve jumped back from the table which is literally dripping with puke. And we’re talking really gross throw up here folks, big grey chunks and sickening looking multi-colored runny matter all over our table and dripping down to the floor. By now Alvin has stopped puking and is standing there kind of in a daze. His face is red and his eyes are watering. I look around the diner and it’s like someone has shot an Uzi machine gun off in the joint. No one is talking, no one is eating, no one is moving. In one instant it went from the typical noisy, clinkity-clank-silverware-hitting-plates diner noise to complete and utter silence.

Everybody is staring at us and the puke-riddled table. It’s like time was frozen. And it’s at this moment that I see something that I’ll never forget. I look a couple of tables ahead of me and off to the left in a booth is a typical Manhattan yuppie power couple with their two boys who look to be roughly five and seven years old. Dad and the boys have on navy blue suits, white shirts and ties and mom is decked out in a summery white dress and wearing jewelry that maybe I’ll be able to afford after three lifetimes of working hard labor. The entire family is shiny, clean and polished ten times from Tuesday. And the whole stinking lot of them are staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at our table which has been turned into a dripping, gooey, vomitorium. And they all have full plates of food in front of them, they had just been served. I instinctively know that their cherished after-church weekly brunch has been ruined, maybe for the remainder of the summer, perhaps for the rest of their lives. The children would be scarred, that much was certain. But I couldn’t waste valuable time worrying about them, I just had to get out of that place and away from the puke.

By this time Alvin cleans himself up by fouling every napkin at our table. We walk up to our wide-eyed, frozen waitress in the corner and she nervously scribbles out our check. All eyes are glued to us as Alvin places a twenty on her tray and apologizes for the mess she’s going to have to clean up. She just stares ice at us.  We pay the bill up front to the sickened cashier and as we leave there is still entire silence in the diner. Right at that moment I felt as if I were a member of the Symbionese Liberation Army holding up that bank with Patty Hearst back in the ’70s. I hadn’t been back to this place since.

And now, four years later, here I am. I have a weird feeling that as I walk in, someone will say, “There he is, one of the throw up guys, lynch him!”

And that’s the end of my Lyric Diner story, let’s go find Gene and Smoopy.

The inside of the Lyric Diner, a classic, old school, open 24 hours diner.

Here's the front counter.

And here's Smoopy and a somewhat reclusive Gene seated at the same table that the infamous puke story took place.

There's the booth that the Yuppie family was seated at. It's empty now, maybe no one's ever sat at it again.

On the back wall, they have one of Biff's favorite New York photos from Grand Central Station.

And here's a cool Ray Charles tour poster.

Meanwhile back at the table, Sunday night dinner is happening. Smoopy got a turkey wrap.

Gene got a Greek Feta Cheese Burger with fries.

And I got the Matzo Ball soup...

And Buffalo Wings. A delicious Sunday night dinner and no one threw up all over the table.

We had a dessert dinner drink at Rolf's, across the street. They're famous for their over the top Christmas decorations, which I'll do a full post on after Thanksgiving.

But here's a little taste of it, one of the creepy dolls that's part of the decor. More to come in a couple weeks. Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.

Lyric Diner
283 3rd Avenue (Between 22nd and 23rd St.)
212-213-2222

Further reading and watching: Colorado Guy, Metromix and Video from Colorado Guy.

And the wild mountain thyme,
Blooms across the purple heather.

(Surprise link...click on it...I dare you!)

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Bonus Bobby Williams Photo!
Bobby Williams is a New York photographer based in the East Village and is a contributor to EV Grieve. Occasionally he sends something my way, such as this stunning shot of the New York City skyline. Great work, Bobby, thanks for sending it in!

November 13, 2011

Live, from New York, it’s Saturday Night Cheeseburger. Starring, Live Bait with special guest stars, Gene, Smoopy and Kurt and featuring the Ready For Prime Beef Player, Marty Wombacher. Ladies and gentlemen, Live Bait!

As I reported on yesterday's blog, Gene and Smoopy, 2/3 of the BBC are in town and they're coming over to my place for beers before dinner, so it's time to put on my snackologist chef's hat and make a decent snack.

I call it The Cracker Barrel, and it involves all the above ingredients in secret amounts and prunings and it's dusted several times with chili powder. I serve it with onion dip.

And here's the guests of honor, Gene and Smoopy enjoying the snacks and beer.

And through the miracle of the internet, you're spared me taking a wrong turn and getting us moving in the wrong direction for about three blocks. Instead, you're magically delivered right here to Live Bait.

The bar has a southern, bayou theme going on as witnessed by the crocodile in the window.

There's a bar up front, but we decided to sit in the dining room in the back.

And here's the lovely hostess and our waitress waiting to seat and serve us. Like an idiot I forgot to get their names. I had had a few beers by this time, so I'm not really responsible for the rest of this post.

And check out who's at the table waiting to meet us, Kurt, who I originally met at the Coal Yard Bar last summer. Kurt's a photographer from Florida, check out his work here: Kurt Rogers Photography. He came along with his friend Simon who's also a photographer, Check out his photos here: Simon Garnier Photography. Okay, let's check out Live Bait before dinner arrives.

The back dining room has tables in the middle and blue booths line the walls.

A shot of the bar from the back end.

Candygram.

Vintage boat house signage hangs on the wall.

And there's not only neon in the window...

There's also neon on the walls inside of Live Bait.

See?

Okay, back to the table because I sense that dinner is about to be served.

Kurt got the cheeseburger deluxe with fries.

And Smoopy got the same, except got a salad instead of fries.

Being the rebel, Gene ignored the Cheeseburger Saturday Night theme and got the salmon.

I got the house specialty burger, The Bait Burger. And no, that's not a chocolate doughnut on top of it, it's a giant onion ring slathered in barbecue sauce. The burger is made out of spicy sausage.

It's a little sloppy to eat, so I ended up eating it with a knife and fork. Delicious and spicy cheeseburger!

As we were having after dinner drinks, Kurt's friends showed up and like an idiot I forgot to write down their names. I've had more than several beers at this point (I have an email in to Kurt, so be watching for an update naming these lovely women.) It was a great night with great people, thanks to everyone for showing up and enjoying Cheeseburger Saturday Night! **************Update: I just heard from Kurt and that's Natalie directly behind him and Annie is behind Natalie, sorry for the horrible memory, ladies, I blame it on all that acid in the '70's!

My Meal
I got the BBQ Bait Burger, which is andouille sausage, American cheese, topped with a giganzo onion ring and barbecue sauce and it was delicious. The barbecue sauce added a little zing and the bun was bakery fresh. It’s the first cheeseburger I’ve ever had made from sausage and it was a great cheeseburger.

In addition to the Bait Burger, there’s also a deluxe hamburger, a turkey burger and a soy burger on the menu. Some of the other entrees on the menu at Live Bait are: Seafood Jambalaya Over Dirty Rice; Smoke House Dixie Spareribs; Robert E Lee's Chicken Fried Steak and Jailhouse Chili Over Dirty Rice with cheddar and red onions. They also have a raw bar featuring fresh shrimp, clams and oysters.

They have 12 bottled beers and 9 beers on tap. Some of the specialty drinks include: Lynchburg Lemonade, Key Lime Martini and an Oyster Clam Shooter which is a raw oyster, Absolut Pepper vodka, cocktail sauce and tabasco. (Mental note to self: Never type in the ingredients to the Oyster Clam Shooter while hungover. I’m going to go throw up now.)

Cheeseburger Rating
Four Wimpy's, a fantastic cheeseburger!

Live Bait
14 E. 23rd St. (Near Madison Avenue)
212-353-2400

Further reading: Shecky’s, 365 Bars and This.

Baby, it feels like I'm dying,
Now, I swear there's something better than,
Gettin' off on sweet cocaine.

(Surprise link...click on it...I dare you!)