Thursday, August 22, 2024. A beautiful sunny day in New York, with temps dropping into the 70s, as if to say Sumer is icumen in and heading down to the high 50s by nightfall — a sense of oncoming Autumn in the air. New Yorkers getting out are energized by it. You can see it just watching the street.
The coming of Autumn was always an exciting time when I was a kid, and remains all these years later. Stuff happened in relationships in the home and out on the street. There was an excitement to it for the kid. Newness was a good part of it.
Late morning I got a call from JH. We usually communicate at that time of day about “tomorrow.” But he called to tell me he’d just left a jewel of a coffee shop in his neighborhood (more on that next week) and would I like to meet for lunch at Via Quadronno, a favorite of both of us. If you don’t know, it’s an Italian restaurant on 73rd between Madison (closer to Mad) and Fifth, facing the Park and draws all ages. Because people can’t resist the satisfaction.
I drove there rather than cabbing it, and put the top down to check out the Cloud Covers on these sunny days. They are sensational, have you noticed? It looks like Mother Nature has redesigned everything up there with enlarged cumulus formations in different shapes.
Their beauty is like Mother Nature’s version of modern art, almost as if Mother Nature has been dabbling. There is, of course, a real explanation for it.
I parked a couple of blocks east and walked over to Via Quadronno. I’ve been going there for years usually having some variation of a ham cheese sandwich. Via Quadronno-style Better than anywhere else!
It’s one of those Italian restaurants where everything is good. JH has been going there probably since he was a kid and grew up around the corner. It’s casual, basic, delicious, interesting, famous for their menu. The dress is “the neighborhood.”
They claim they’re best known for their cappuccinos and panini sandwiches. I can’t help reprinting a bit of their copy about their menu just for the pleasure in memory:
Featuring a full dining menu, homemade desserts, amazing gelato and wines. Our made to order paninis are served semplici – composed of a single ingredient on freshly baked bread, as open-faced sandwiches, or alla Milanese. You can also sample our standout Lasagna Bolognese, home-style rendition of the original classic from Bologna.
And casual. Relaxing. It’s neighborhood-y (Upper East Side version) in feeling and atmosphere. Also very laid/back busy outside on these sunny Summer days. I’ve always liked the restaurant also just for its natural yet stylish atmosphere that its owner created. That’s New York.
Face-to-face chats are every now and then, and so when we do there is always lots of detritus. Talking about today and The Diary, he suggested we do a little more on the neighborhood we were sitting in. After all, the Pulitzer Mansion was on the same block just a few doors down.
There are other private mansions on the block but the Joseph Pulitzer Mansion, built in 1903, is the architectural monument to that period in our history. A palace when you walk by. A piece of art of a time in our history.
Born to a family of Magyar-Jewish origin in Hungary in 1847, Pulitzer emigrated to America when he was 18. He loved publishing and writing, eventually starting two American newspapers; and ultimately became a tycoon and competitor of William Randolph Hearst.
As a tycoon competing with Hearst, one piece of evidence was the house that Pulitzer, then age 59, moved into. Designed by Stanford White, it was inspired by two sumptuous 17th century Italian palazzos. Mr. Pulitzer died about eight years later at age 63.
I first noticed this solidly impressive mansion that spoke power as well as “beauty” when I first moved to New York. It was just a huge mansion that obviously belonged to somebody with a lot of money.
I first learned about its history when I knew a girl here in New York whose grandmother was Margaret Thompson Biddle who was the only child of William Boyce Thompson, founder of Newmont Mining in 1921. Mrs. B. had an apartment occupying the top floor of the house until her death in the late ‘50s. She lived there part of the year and in her own mansion in Paris in the winters and springs.
I “recounted” to JH my personal history with the house, very minor though it was major experiencing the architect’s creation. It was enormous just to enter, and was at first vast and accessible. But inviting; and comfortable.
A number of years ago I was signed to write a biography about a family here in New York. I was then living in Los Angeles, and at the time of signing I met a New York couple visiting, friends of a friend. When telling them about the “new” project, they asked me where I was going to stay in New York.
I had no idea, except possibly an old friend who’d put me up (or up with me) when it was needed. This couple on hearing this told me they had an extra apartment in their apartment (? Yes) and I was welcome to use it.
It was described as a one bedroom apartment, separate but within their “floor,” with a full kitchen and bath, and a small terrace that overlooked what was then a garden of trees and flowers, separating the mansion from the building next door with a small garden park.
I was amazed. My hosts lived very comfortably (she was her own decorator) and it was elegant and comforting and welcoming. My apartment received fresh flowers from their gardens every week.
While staying there, I was having difficulties getting people to talk to me about some of the characters in the family I had been hired to write a book about. After about six weeks of making very few contacts, I returned to Los Angeles and eventually the project was canceled.
Telling JH about the place and the wonderful family who shared this historical piece of early 20th century, and seeing it again with its still elegant and substantial presence, was a pleasure. A rare piece of New York art.
What one lunch in New York can bring to mind …
