Monday, November 26, 2007

Ken Friedman at Sucelt

This weekend I went back to Sucelt for another helping of beans and rice, empanadas, and a cup of morir sornando, a frothy milk and juice shake whose name aptly translates to “die dreaming.” While waiting for my beverage I joined a conversation between the owner, Jehnny Novarro, and one of her regulars. They were talking regretfully about Sucelt’s December 24 closing. “Maybe it’s for the best,” Ms. Novarro said with a shrug, “I have to think this way so my heart won’t break.”

The regular introduced himself as Ken Friedman, co-owner of The Spotted Pig, a restaurant I’d never heard of before. “I’m always looking at restaurant spaces,” he told Ms. Novarro, “Maybe I can find something for you in the area.”

“I’m thinking about a place in New Jersey,” she said, “Here the rents are too much. I would have to double my prices — and more. I cannot do that to my customers. They are working people, poor people. I cannot do that to them.” She’d rather go out of business than fail to serve her faithful.



As Ms. Novarro went back to her work, I talked more with Ken, a scruffy, quietly affable guy who loves Sucelt so much he eats there three times a week. It was at Sucelt, he said, that he and his chef found the inspiration for their popular cubano sandwich.

Ken told me he came from California and has a passion for old New York. (He enjoys reading this blog and gave me an impromptu interview.) The Spotted Pig, he explained, is housed in an 1849 building that lived many lives--as a carriage house, a Dutch flophouse, and a tavern. “We tried to make it look like the Hudson riverside pubs,” he said of his meticulous restoration efforts, “so now we’ve got a nice fake old place.” But he also enjoys the city’s real old places, like Katz’s, Corner Bistro, and Ess-A-Bagel. “New York wasn’t meant to be all banks and Starbucks,” he said, “We need places like this.”


Ken enjoying a magnificent Sucelt empanada

5 comments:

L'Emmerdeur said...

"Forever"? Not likely. Only until everyone realizes that the "cool" New York has disappeared and been replaced by a Hollywood set version of itself.

"All this has happened before, and all of this will happen again", if I may indulge my inner dork.

Anonymous said...

"and again, and again and again.."
Different neighborhoods, same thing.

Anonymous said...

That is a terrific idea, J. I think Fiorello would have loved it. I'll be (pleasantly) surprised if any of the "big guys" really have the stuff to take you up on your challenge, which is smart and very pragmatic.

Anonymous said...

It's really simple. When Sucelt leaves, some other business will move in and pay a sucker's rent subsidized by ridiculous prices. Most of their earnings will end up in the landlords pocket. Just boycott the new business. Don't set foot in it. It will be empty soon. Then boycott its replacement. Let the landlord eat his damned storefront. Stop being sheep and take 'em on one property at a time.

Anonymous said...

Jenny (Sucelt owner) also said that her landlord told her that she had to move the kitchen upstairs, out of the basement, for insurance reasons. Not only would her rent rise from $7000 to $17000 a month, but she'd have fewer seats for her customers. She's looking at a space in Hackensack, I think, but I sure would love to see her stay in Manhattan. The food is excellent and reasonably priced, and the coffee is wonderful. Most of all, though, Jenny in particular remembers exactly how you like your cafe con leche, and what you like with it. It's really a special little place, and it will be missed if it disappears. My wife and I felt sick when Jenny told us she was closing. I feel especially bad for the many Spanish-speaking customers in the neighborhood, who will lose what seems like an informal clubhouse on West 14th Street.