25A
Amity family. A happy place. Steve made it so. And so did Irma and all the waiters and busboys and cooks. Irma is gone now and Steve seems a shell of his old self without her. "What are you going to do?" That has been Steve's pat answer. The last day has been like every other day so far. "Back for one last time, huh?" The waiters have always been characters lending to the personality of the joint. Oldtimers, like me, remember Gus, Milton, Frankie, Abner. Everybody was always nice to our kid, who would wolf down the silver dollar pancakes while reading a comic book, smiling and chilling out. Irma always had kind words and lollipops for all the kids. On the last day of the New Amity Restaurant, a lazy Sunday in the middle of Memorial Day Weekend in an abandoned NYC, the regulars started to file in. "Good morning, how are you?" asked Steve.
NEW AMITY DINER
BOWS OUT AFTER 45 YEARS ON UES By Adam Kluger Illustrations by Dreck
I
t was really a love story in the end. The noise outside was consistent. Traffic, construction, and wandering conversations as New Yorkers enjoyed the relative peace of Memorial Day Weekend in the city. But for Steve, the owner of the New Amity Restaurant, it was the end. The end of a 45-year love affair with the people of the Upper East Side who would frequent what very well could have been the best diner on Madison Avenue. There was an old-school charm to the place even though Steve ran a tight ship. Make no mistake about it. Steve was always on the job. Alert and aware. The first to spot a potential problem and the first to jump in and make sure it was smooth sailing at this one restaurant for almost half a century. A well-oiled machine needs a boss and that was Steve. That was the way Steve led New Amity. No nonsense. A commitment to customer service and amazing food. He had the formula and he stood at the counter area and surveyed each table. He knew when the salt shaker needed filling and he would say hi, ask about the family, see if you needed anything and then he was gone like a maestro back to conducting the flow of the place, coffee, menus, delicious food, more coffee and no pressure to rush out. But we all knew it wasn't the right thing to do to loiter at a table because there were always plenty of people lined up outside the door waiting for a coveted table too. The people of this neighborhood loved the New Amity Restaurant for 45 years. And for that same amount of time, so did Steve and the New
72
Metropolitan Magazine | metmagny.com
"How's Steve doing?" someone asked Jesus the waiter who shook his head and replied, "It's just another workday but he's depressed." I ask Miguel the busboy who was wearing a mask, how he was doing after he asks me if I want an iced coffee (my usual), and he replies in broken English, "I'm just happy to work here, maybe something happens last minute?" and then he knocked on the wood atop one of the empty booths. His glass was still half full. Nearby I hear Jesus the waiter again, the most outgoing of the current group of waiters, George (the whisperer) is hard to understand, "Here for one last time, huh?" None of us know the future. We sit, drink coffee, and ponder what's next? I ask my high school pal Eddie, an acclaimed writer and graduate of Yale, a regular to beat all regulars, "How many meals have you had here at New Amity?" "What's five times a week over 30 years? Last year, 50 weeks out of the year? That's 250 meals a year for 30-something years. It varies." "Which waiter do you think has been the most memorable?" "They are all memorable in their own way." "Agreed" "Their delivery was also super-fast...10-15 minutes." "Your go-to's?" "What do you mean? What do I like to eat? I like pancakes, waffles, and egg whites." "Was this the best diner in New York?" "My favorite"