July 28, 2011
It was just about a year ago that I went to Fedora’s bar and restaurant in the West Village. I had a great time drinking and chatting with Fedora, the 89-year-old owner. She told me tales from the old days, stories about Lauren Bacall, her husband, some of the people who had worked there and she showed me pictures of her great-grandchildren. In the end it was a bittersweet day though, because she confirmed the rumor that it was closing. She told me she just couldn’t do it anymore and who could blame her for wanting to retire? Not me. She told me she had sold it and said that the new owner promised her that they would keep the original sign hanging as a tribute to her. That made her smile and it made me smile as well. At least a small chunk of the past would be preserved.
So months passed, they gutted Fedora and brought in shiny new things and a highly polished bar and tables and chairs. Oh and within the first week they took the sign down. So much for promises. The new owner, Gabriel Stulman, claimed it was too old and damaged and was beyond repair. Hmm, I wonder how a functioning neon sign could be “beyond repair?" Anyway, they made a new one. Now everything had been changed by Stulman and nothing of the past is left. It’s all his and I’m pretty sure that’s the way he likes it. I swore I’d never go back, but I’m curious now as to what the new Fedora looks like, so that’s tonight’s destination.
Here we are at Penn Station, it's really nice out tonight.
This asshole woman just pushed me aside as she ran down the escalator. And there's a huge stairway to the left, I'll never understand this shit. You ride the escalator, you walk/run down the stairs. Pretty simple rules that some jerkoffs can never understand.
And here we are, the West Village, Fedora's is just a few blocks away.
Here's the new sign. You really can't tell the difference much, but it still sucks.
Let's go inside and get this over with.
Wow, it's completely unrecognizable from the original Fedora. And it's loud with stupid chatter in here. Everyone's trying to talk louder than the next person, really annoying.
A black leather banquettle and tables line the wall opposite the bar. Gabriel Stulman said he'd keep some of the old photos and memorabilia from the original Fedora, but it's all gone.
Lots of high-fiving going on in here. Woo and hoo.
There's a black and white picture of Jay Z in the corner where the pay phone used to be.
The bar is packed with the chattering masses.
And people texting and staring blankly and lovingly at their phones.
Here's the bartender having a passionate moment with his phone. I've had enough.
Two word review of the new Fedora: Vomit, eruptis. Obnoxious people talking two octaves too loud, fake-laughing at each other's ironic jokes in a loud and sickening manner. Those that weren't screaming at each other like wild hyenas amped up to the nines on crystal meth were texting and hypnotized by their cell phones. Music played in the background, but all I could hear over the loud chatter was a bass line reverberating like a ball peen hammer hitting a trampoline in an echo chamber. A chubby blonde woman who made it clear that she was from Chicago broke out into an impromptu dance between the bar and the tables and shook her head, hair and hips in a manner that brings a new definition to the words, "ridiculous and embarrassing." Fedora's is dead. It's gone from a nice cubbyhole where you could escape and talk to real people and hear stories of the old days in New York while nursing a bottle of beer to an asshole emporium with an all you can eat buffet of everything that's wrong with this world. To quote Col. Kurtz and the final words in the fine book "Hell's Angels" by Hunter S. Thompson: "The horror...the horror. Exterminate all the brutes!" Zingo!
Here’s a paragraph from a review of the new Fedora on New York magazine’s website by Adam Platt:
“Let the feasting commence,” said one of the merry hipsters at my table, as we pondered the impressively gigantic “big pork chop for two,” which was smothered in pork meatballs, no less, and served with a stack of fluffy scallion pancakes. An equally massive côte de boeuf special was buried, not entirely successfully, in drifts of bok choy and Cantonese fried rice, and if you order the fried chicken leg, it comes over a pile of fragrant, faintly sticky sushi rice, with its gnarled claw still attached.
Merry hipsters? A big old pork chop smothered in pork meatballs? Oh my.
And here’s a few lines from a review of the original Fedora on the same website written by Kathleen Squires:
To nightly applause from diners, Fedora takes her spot behind the bar to serve up strong drinks, generous smiles, and a tale or two from the old days. So who cares that the mashed potatoes taste half-instant? You don’t come here for the food, after all.
Well, Fedora is gone and a bearded, pork-obsessed jackass who wants to change the neighborhood to something called, “Little Wisco” has taken her place. I don’t really have any reason to ever come here again. Look what they’ve done to your song, Fedora...better still just walk away and pretend this place just doesn’t exist anymore.
Further reading: Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York, New York Magazine (old review), New York Magazine (new review), Grub Street (Note the third comment down from some wiseass!) and The Half Empty Glass.
You Might Also Like: Ted Turner, Hooch and Turner and Hooch.
Four Celebrities Wearing a Fedora And One Greasy Dude
Humphrey Bogart
Keith Richards
Shawn Chittle
Cary Grant
Greasy Dude (Getting all handsy with Whitney Port. Is it bad that I have no idea who Whitney Port is? She sounds like a bottle of wine to me.)
You can't put your arms around a memory,
Don't try, don't try.
54 Comments
Reader Comments (54)
Oh , then maybe she was trying to pick ur pocket , or pick up you , you never know women these days .
Or she was dumping her Bad Energies on You, my sister believes people whom don't know You & have Bad Energies touch You to dump it , I don't. : )
Maybe she was graving a Hotdog & Beer so badly & needed it before she faint & wasn't thinking .
Maybe she was just a stupid Bitch .
Personally You should of ran after her & give her Your Blog card & made her fell guilty of what she done & then when she saw all of the comments of what she done she will fell so much more of being a stupid Bith that she is & change ( Not , since a woman like that needs an abusive husband to smack the Bitch out of her ) , but anyway I'm sure Karma is going to get her !!!
Oh shit got to go ZioumZioum going to smack the Bitch out of Me since I'm supposed to be cleaning since I'm not working & bring money in to the house hold !!!! No worries she hits me where You can't see the bruises !!! & she dosen't know I like it , Bruhaaaaaahahahahah LOL .
@Ummo: The last part of that comment scares me a little bit! Happy cleaning!
Fedoras was a great place with real old school NYC people. What you should try one night is a few blocks away. Tavern on Jane is on jane st. and hudson. Try it out one night,good food, great old school people still hang out there (thanks to rent control) But it cant be on weekends for it fills with meat packing assholes looking for cheaper drinks.
@HopHead: Thanks for the tip, I'll check out Tavern on Jane soon, maybe this Tuesday.