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A ‘Jewish luncheonette’ returns to the Flatiron District, with a killer egg cream
(New York Jewish Week) — It’s just after 1 p.m. on an unseasonably warm autumn day, and the line at the recently opened Flatiron restaurant S&P, which describes itself as “a new place for a very old lunch counter,” is out the door.
Fortunately for my rumbling stomach, the crowd is mostly due to the tight quarters within: Many customers are simply waiting for takeout orders of pastrami sandwiches and matzah ball soup. The barstool seating at the vintage marble counter means space near the entrance is at a premium, and my dining companion (none other than Shannon Sarna, the editor of The Nosher) and I are quickly seated at a two-top in the cramped yet convivial rear, which is dominated by a long green banquette.
S&P officially opened Sept. 28, the latest venture from Eric Finkelstein and Matt Ross, the founders of hip local sandwich mini-chain Court Street Grocers. It’s the newest iteration of an old-school luncheonette at 174 Fifth Ave., which first opened in 1928 and had been known for decades as Eisenberg’s Sandwich Shop.
I myself had once been a regular Eisenberg’s customer: At the tail-end of the ’90s, my first “real” job in New York was at the Flatiron Building across the street. To me — and, clearly, to many other New Yorkers — Eisenberg’s was the kind of place that seemed to be entwined with the very fabric of the city, like pigeons, hot dog carts and subway cars. I can’t say the food was particularly good at Eisenberg’s, but washing down a tuna melt with an egg cream in the vintage environs always felt special.
After a series of owners, Eisenberg’s shuttered for good during the pandemic in March 2021. Finkelstein and Ross — who first met as undergraduates at the Rhode Island School of Design, where they graduated in 2003 — were tapped to take over the space this spring, as the building’s landlord was committed to having a tenant who would preserve the vibe (if not the name, due to legal reasons) of Eisenberg’s.
The partners have spiffed up the interior and the menu a tad — but not enough so that the eatery feels unrecognizable. In fact S&P very much feels the same as Eisenberg’s always has, even if the floor is new and dishes such as bananas and sour cream are recent additions. As Finkelstein, 40, who grew up in a Jewish family in Hollis Hills, Queens, told me in a phone interview: “This is the kind of food I grew up around and with.”
In an effort to preserve the space’s long history, the new owners settled on a name that honors the restaurant’s original owners, Charles Schwadron and Rubin Pulver. “You can see that these two guys, Schwadron and Pulver, had built this place out right when the building was erected, and they were going to run a restaurant together,” Finkelstein said, explaining research that included scouring old lawsuits and tax documents. “In a 1940 tax photo, which is how we found out it had been called S&P, you can see five other sandwich shops on the same block.”
Following a hectic weekday lunch rush, I spoke with Finkelstein about the luncheonette’s legacy, its Jewish influences and how to make a perfect egg cream.
This interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity.
New York Jewish Week: Eisenberg’s felt like the kind of place that’s been around forever — and the new S&P still does. The nostalgia is there, but at the same time, the restaurant really feels like a living, breathing part of the city. Is that what you were aiming for?
Eric Finkelstein: This kind of place has always been really important to my business partner, Matt [Ross], and I — and to, obviously, a lot of people in New York. It’s the kind of place that people associate with New York. When you think about the city, you assume that these places are everywhere — and they should be. There are a number of reasons why they aren’t; some of them are organic, and some of them aren’t.
We found ourselves with an opportunity to help the city retain this one. And I think, fundamentally, what we really wanted to do was just make sure that if we were going to do this, that we did it in a way that was honest — where we tried to make the best food that we can, and try to provide the most appropriate level of service that we can, and that it’s not, to use a phrase Matt uses, a “theme-park version.” Because we definitely feel that this kind of thing is timeless, and it’s not, you know, it’s not an exercise in nostalgia to try to keep this place open.
Were you familiar with Eisenberg’s before you opened S&P?
I wasn’t aware of Eisenberg’s as a kid. My father definitely knew of it; my great-grandparents worked in the neighborhood, where there were a ton of places like Eisenberg’s. When we opened Court Street Grocers [in 2010], Matt and I used a number of things as a model for what we wanted to do [and this was one of them]. Like everybody else, I was kind of bummed to see the place had declined so precipitously in those last couple of years, then even more devastated to see it close.
I should say, obviously, that we are not Eisenberg’s. We don’t have the right to use that name. S&P is a different business. But one of the things that I loved so much about Eisenberg’s is that it was a lunch counter, that, you know, there were hundreds, or maybe thousands of lunch counters exactly like it in New York, with the same exact specs for the marble countertop and the mirrored back bar.
There are a lot of traditional Jewish foods on the menu, like latkes and matzah brei, but you also have things like cheeseburgers and bacon. Would you consider S&P a Jewish deli, or do you see it as Jewish in any way?
I would consider it a Jewish luncheonette. I think a deli has counter service, like a deli counter. Maybe a deli food case, and you could order food to go, or you could sit down at a table and maybe get a table service. But I think the lunch counter aspect of it makes it not a deli but a luncheonette.
It’s obviously not kosher. But, you know, I think there’s a tradition of this kind of lunch counter in New York that was Jewish inflected. And even a lot of diners have a lot of traditional Jewish food on their menus, for whatever reason, just because it’s New York.
I read that S&P’s desserts are made by your relatives. I love how this is a family business — a lot of the classic Jewish restaurants in the city, like Katz’s Delicatessen and Russ & Daughters, are generations-old family businesses. Do you feel like you’re recreating some of that, with something new?
My father makes the rugelach and both of Matt’s parents make the carrot cake.
The Court Street Grocers business, we’ve always thought of it as a kind of mom-and-pop-style operation. Decisions are made based on what’s actually happening with interactions between the customers and the staff, versus just kind of coming up with what people call “a concept” and executing it. These places should be living and breathing things that change.
Bonus question: I ordered a tuna melt and an egg cream at S&P, just like I used to at Eisenberg’s. I like egg creams OK but I don’t generally love them. But the one I had at S&P was by far the best egg cream I’ve ever had. What’s your secret?
First of all, we have good seltzer — we made sure that we had a good seltzer system put in, with the right amount of carbon dioxide, pressure, and a way that we can get it cold enough, which is a big deal. We’re using good milk, and we’re using Fox’s U-Bet [chocolate] syrup. So it’s sort of the same ingredients that everybody uses. I don’t know if ours is better, but the order of operations is really important. Before we opened we tried, over and over again, different ways of making it, like you put the chocolate syrup and then the milk. [Or] you put the milk and seltzer and then syrup. We’ve gotten to a place where we’re really satisfied. The amount of syrup is really important — I think it’s just proportions and order of operations, and then doing your best to try to not beat out all the carbonation.
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Toronto Jewish Community Shaken After 3 Synagogue Shootings in Less Than a Week
People attend Canada’s Rally for the Jewish People at Parliament Hill in Ottawa, Ontario, in December 2023. Photo: Shawn Goldberg via Reuters Connect
Two synagogues in Toronto were targeted by gunfire overnight on Friday, marking the third shooting targeting Jewish institutions in less than a week and intensifying fears of a rapidly deteriorating security climate for Jews and Israelis across Canada.
Local police confirmed that the two synagogues — the Shaarei Shomayim synagogue in North York and the Beth Avraham Yoseph of Toronto (BAYT) synagogue in Thornhill, both in Ontario’s Greater Toronto Area — suffered gunfire attacks, with multiple bullet holes found in their front windows and exterior walls.
The incidents came just four days after another attack in Toronto, in which a Jewish-owned restaurant and a local synagogue were also hit by gunfire.
Canadian authorities assured the public that they are investigating the incidents and examining any potential links, but no suspects have been identified at this time.
On Sunday, the local Jewish community gathered to confront this relentless wave of antisemitic attacks, standing in solidarity, raising awareness of the growing threats, and calling for meaningful protections for their safety and places of worship.
During a news conference outside the Shaarei Shomayim Synagogue, Sara Lefton, chief development officer of the United Jewish Appeal Federation of Greater Toronto, described last week’s attacks as shocking yet not surprising, highlighting the escalating wave of antisemitic violence sweeping Canada.
“We are shaken to our core at this moment,” Lefton said. “It’s beyond anything that we could have imagined.”
She called on “every part of Canadian society” to take action against discrimination toward Jews and Israelis, stressing that government officials must coordinate with concrete commitments and funding to ensure the community feels safe and protected.
“It’s not enough to say our thoughts and prayers are with the Jewish community. This is not a Jewish issue; this is a Canadian issue,” Lefton said.
Toronto-born Israeli Deputy Foreign Minister Sharren Haskel also condemned the shootings, describing them as “antisemitic terrorism.”
“Anti-Jewish terror is a result of a global failure to confront antisemitism and the hatred directed at the Jewish people,” the Israeli diplomat wrote in a post on X.
Israel’s ambassador to Canada, Iddo Moed, urged Ottawa to take strong action to hold those responsible accountable and to strengthen security measures for Jewish institutions nationwide.
“The safety of Canada’s Jewish community must remain a national priority and a collective responsibility,” Moed said in a statement.
Toronto Deputy Mayor Mike Colle pointed out that he has been pressing both provincial and federal governments over the past three years to establish a task force specifically aimed at fighting antisemitism.
“[Local law enforcement] cannot do this alone. This is not a local police matter,” Colle said. “It’s not good enough to make speeches or propose laws now.”
Yet his initiatives stand in sharp contrast to Mayor Olivia Chow’s history of openly anti-Israel statements and positions. In November, several Canadian Jewish groups called on her to apologize and even resign for publicly calling Israel’s war against Hamas terrorists in the Gaza Strip a “genocide”
Like most countries across the Western world, Canada has seen a rise in antisemitic incidents over the last two years, in the wake of the Hamas-led invasion of and massacre across southern Israel on Oct. 7, 2023.
Canadian Jews have been hit by a wave of antisemitic incidents, with at least 32 reported across five provinces in just the first week of January this year, according to data collected by the Jewish advocacy group B’nai Brith.
“Antisemitism in Canada is now accelerating at an increasing rate, spreading across provinces, platforms, and public spaces. That is a warning signal, and it demands more than piecemeal reactions,” the group wrote in a letter urging Prime Minister Mark Carney to create a Royal Commission that would explore the problem and draft policy proposals for solving it.
In one of the latest antisemitic incidents, a kosher restaurant and a neighboring business in Montreal, the largest city in the province of Quebec, were vandalized last week, with antisemitic graffiti and swastikas spray-painted across their walls.
In another troubling antisemitic incident, a 15-year-old Jewish student in Halifax, the capital of Nova Scotia, has been forced to continue his education online after his school failed to stop repeated antisemitic harassment and bullying.
According to B’nai Brith’s latest audit released last year, antisemitic incidents in 2024 rose 7.4 percent from 2023, with 6,219 adding up to the highest total recorded since it began tracking such data in 1982.
Seventeen incidents occurred on average every day, while online antisemitism exploded a harrowing 161 percent since 2022. As standalone provinces, Quebec and Alberta saw the largest percentage increases, by 215 percent and 160 percent, respectively.
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Walter Benjamin knew what Timothée Chalamet meant about opera and ballet
When production shots of Timothée Chalamet in Marty Supreme first graced the internet, one wag, taking note of the glasses, mustache and sweater vest, had an alternate project in mind.
“First look at Timothée Chalamet on SPIRITU MUNDI,” the post went, “a Walter Benjamin biopic focusing on his personal entanglements with other notable figures.”
The resemblance was there, but after an 11th-hour scandal in the leadup to Chalamet’s could-be Oscar win, it could be more than skin deep. The remark that got Chalamet in trouble came during a CNN and Variety-hosted conversation between the Dune star and pensive Lincoln pitchman Matthew McConaughey.
“I don’t want to be working in ballet or opera or things where it’s like ‘keep this thing alive’ when nobody cares about this anymore,” Chalamet said before kinda (sorta) backtracking.
The reprisals from the fine arts were swift. The Seattle Opera introduced the promo code “TIMOTHEE” for discounted seats to their production of Carmen. Ballet dancers called him out on the gram. But Chalamet’s comments, even without accounting for his own family’s connection to the New York City Ballet, are more nuanced in context. And that brings us back to Benjamin.
Chalamet was discussing the need to keep the cinema experience alive, and offered that Generation Z may be the future, citing an article that they now outnumber millennial moviegoers. What he may have meant to convey, though he couldn’t quite articulate it, was the utility of film as a populist art form, as opposed to the mediums of ballet and opera, which have a higher barrier to entry.
In Benjamin’s 1935 essay The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, he makes the argument that film in particular excels at something works like paintings can’t do: “Meet the beholder or listener in his own particular situation.”
With film being accessible, not ephemeral or reduced to a singular, rarefied artifact with a cult-like “aura,” the result is a “tremendous shattering of tradition which is the obverse of the contemporary crisis and renewal of mankind.”
Benjamin thought that when the ritualistic was stripped from a work of art, it could be used for political ends. Filmgoing was part of a progressive mass movement and led to “apperception,” synthesizing new ideas and experiences into existing ones, via distraction (zerstreuung in the German). It was, to him, with its reliance on montage, an ideal vehicle for a fractured age.
It’s interesting to consider this theory in an era of smartphones and at-home streaming. These are the newest incarnations of mass availability. In a sense, Chalamet’s argument is retrograde, wanting to preserve something outmoded and at risk of the same obsolescence as ballet and opera (recall how the Met Opera, just east of Chalamet’s old stomping grounds at LaGuardia High, has proposed selling its Chagalls to stay liquid; meanwhile they beam their offerings to movie theaters).
The nature of cinema has shifted, and the present cultic significance of an IMAX 70 mm run of something like Oppenheimer would seem to capture a new aura Benjamin didn’t anticipate. But then, Benjamin was a man of contradictions himself. He was sad at the loss of aura even as he celebrated the possibility of photography and film and had his own widest reach on the radio.
The Zoomers Chalamet is speaking of include the kids who dressed up in suits in a phenomenon called “Gentleminions” to see a screening of a Despicable Me spinoff film. They and the legions who came to The Minecraft Movie to scream at the phrase “chicken jockey” could rightly be said to be acting ritualistically, but it is of course collective, and the beleaguered movie theater employees who had to sweep up the deluge of popcorn could tell you these audiences were almost certainly distracted.
“The film makes the cult value recede into the background not only by putting the public in the position of the critic, but also by the fact that at the movies this position requires no attention,” Benjamin wrote.
I should note that Chalamet got onto his opera and ballet tangent to begin with after McConaughey asked him if audiences today have a more limited attention span.
Chalamet seemed to bring up the surge in Gen Z attendance as a counterpoint, but the two are hardly mutually exclusive. You can still go to the movies and be, what Benjamin called, “an examiner, but an absent-minded one.”
Certainly this absent-mindedness is possible at the ballet and the opera — I direct you to the program origami from Citizen Kane. Benjamin was discussing static paintings like Picassos, and nothing so Dionysian as those live mediums. But they are not mass-produced and are more inaccessible now than in 1935, when they were still popular entertainment.
Film continues to have the ultimate edge in an age of distraction, both for creating something communal and prompting movement forward. It’s by now no means the most popular way to get a message out into the world, but the very uproar at Chalamet’s comments are a proof that film still matters.
As The New York Times’ dance critic Gia Kourlas acknowledged, “If a dancer said that a film didn’t matter, it would be like a tree falling in the woods.”
But enough of all this fuss. Give us the Chalamet Benjamin biopic, and let that angel of history be the new “chicken jockey.”
The post Walter Benjamin knew what Timothée Chalamet meant about opera and ballet appeared first on The Forward.
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For the ‘Jazz Rabbi’ of Connecticut, music and Judaism are both about tradition and improvisation
Greg Wall, who has juggled a career as a professional jazz musician while holding down a day job as a pulpit rabbi, has long been known as The Jazz Rabbi. Though he has retired from his job at the Beit Chaverim Synagogue in Westport, Conn., where he served as full-time rabbi for 10 years, he’s still at the synagogue seven days a week.
“Jazz is really a model of how to put your own spin on an inherited tradition,” Wall told me. “And that’s what the practice of Judaism has been for me. I’m part of the tradition, yet I’m trying to come to my own understanding and make certain connections myself, rather than just dial it in by rote.”
The Jazz Rabbi prays three times a day and studies Talmud study daily. But Wall is also devoted to another congregation: Every Thursday night the jazz faithful gathers at a VFW Post in Westport. The shows, known as Jazz at the Post, are organized by the Jazz Society of Fairfield County, a non-profit organization Wall co-founded. He’s the organization’s artistic director.
“This is a really nice chapter of my life,” Wall told me just he as he was getting ready to perform at a sold-out show in late February. “I have people calling me all the time to come play here. A lot of them are Grammy Award-winning jazz artists.”
The venue, which has a capacity of about 80, is usually sold out. Admission is $20 and there is no drink minimum, making it much more affordable than the typical night out at a commercial jazz venue, where admission is often $50 with a two-drink minimum. Because the Jazz at the Post shows take place at a VFW hall, veterans are admitted for $15, as are students.
Wall said that the fact that there’s no adversarial relationship with a restaurant trying to sell food and drink makes for a much better listening experience for jazz lovers.
“People come here to listen to the music,” he told me. “The people that I would go out and listen to in New York now come to Westport. I feel a little guilty that this place is two minutes from my house, but so be it.”
Back in 2009 when Wall got his first pulpit, a part-time gig at the Sixth Street Community Synagogue in Manhattan’s East Village, his group Later Prophets was touring regularly. During his time at the Sixth Street shul, Wall created the Center for Jewish Arts and Literacy, which brought klezmer, jazz and big-band music to the synagogue’s basement social hall, along with Yiddish language and Torah classes. The music series lives on at the Hudson Yards Synagogue in Manhattan, thanks to the efforts of the percussionist Aaron Alexander.
Later Prophets has been inactive in recent years but Wall still plays freelance gigs with various artists and occasionally performs with the guitarist Jon Madoff’s horn-heavy Afrobeat ensemble Zion 80, as well as The Elders, a jazz group led by Frank London, his friend and collaborator of nearly 50 years.
At the VFW hall in Westport, The Jazz Rabbi joins the visiting artists on the bandstand every week. Wall said the experience of playing with different acts, many of whom perform original compositions, has been good for his musical chops. One of the regulars at the Westport shows remarked that when Wall really gets into a groove, he rocks back and forth like he’s davening.
The Jazz at the Post shows have been happening since April 2022 but Wall has been performing locally since 2015. He started playing in the back room of a local eatery known as Restaurant 323. That gig came about after Wall’s impromptu performance at a fundraiser for the Bridgeport community radio station WPKN-FM.
“After he played a couple of bars of music at the WPKN benefit, I was just blown away by his talent,” recalled Richard Epstein, a Bridgeport dentist who serves as vice-president of the Jazz Society. Epstein’s wife Ina Chadwick, a former Forward editor, was running a spoken word performance series at Restaurant 323 and suggested Wall start a jazz night there.
Eric Bilber, a co-founder of the Jazz Society and a board member, said he discovered the Restaurant 323 scene when his wife went to pick up their daughter one night at the Metro-North station in Westport and didn’t come home right away. Their daughter Zina noticed someone playing a stand-up bass and decided they should check it out. They had such a great time that they stayed until the last set.
“And that was it,” Bilber told me. “I went back with them the following week and we’ve been going ever since. We started bringing our friends and everybody that we could think of to try to support this.”
Bilber realized there was a need to start a non-profit after the Westport jazz lovers had collected thousands of dollars by passing around a cigar box at performances to purchase a piano.
“One day he asked Wall, “Who owns the piano?’” Bilber recalled. “And we decided maybe we should start a non-profit.”
The newly created Jazz Society paid $11,000 for a Steinway Model M that was built in 1937. It had served as one of the house pianos at the Village Gate, the iconic Greenwich Village nightclub that closed in 1988.
If a piano can be said to have yichus, the Gate’s Steinway would certainly fit the bill. Thelonius Monk and Nina Simone are among several jazz greats who played it on live albums recorded at the Gate. Mose Allison, Count Basie, Bill Evans, Eddie Palmieri, Sun Ra and McCoy Tyner have banged on its keys too.
Wall had been tipped off to the Model M’s availability by his piano tuner. But all that wear and wear had taken its toll on the instrument, so in 2018 the Jazz Society came up with $15,000 to refurbish it.
Paul Haller, a Stanford-based piano restorer, recalled with a chuckle that Wall brought down a few local pianists to his shop when the repairs were completed. They put the piano through its paces for a couple of hours before declaring they were pleased with the restoration.
Ted Rosenthal, a pianist who teaches at Juilliard and the Manhattan School of Music, performed at the Post with a quintet that included Wall in late February. During the intermission, he reminded me that being a jazz musician means that one night you could be playing at Carnegie Hall and the next night your gig might be at the Carnegie Deli.
“They’ve created a jazz club in a place that wasn’t designed to be a jazz club,” he said. “I think that’s what we need to do because obviously rents in New York are so high that some clubs don’t succeed because of the expenses involved. If you can find a place and build an audience, I think that’s a perfect way to go.”.
“This place is like being in Greenwich Village,” said Alan Phillips, a Westport resident who comes to the Jazz at the Post performances almost every week. “The world-class jazz that we get right here — it’s the best kept secret.”
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