I initially told billyboy that I would let him have the honor of writing this up, but I've done some thinking on my train ride home, and felt the need to share. He may write more about his experience here, and the other events of the day in the near future. This is long, but hopefully, a worthwhile read.
Today, I had the opportunity to witness the very, very fine line between eccentric and crazy - in action. There really isn't any better way to describe
Shopsin's. I arranged to meet
billyboy,
Lexi, and my off-site friend, Brett at 11 am at the Essex Street Market to "experience"
Shopsin's.
I knew Lexi was a big fan - i.e. owns his "cookbook" (if you can call it that) - and has wanted to try the restaurant for some time. Unfortunately, when I am in the Lower East Side, my mind wanders towards my beloved
Katz's Delicatessen. Still, I was willing to forgo one meal at Katz's to check this place out. Admittedly, Shopsin's is filled with a lot of trappings that would normally scare me off a place. For instance, it seems that there is a lot of rules - I'm not big on rules. Dining out is supposed to be an enjoyable experience, and if you are bogged down in rules, how are you supposed to have any fun? They offer an extensive (as noted above, hundreds and hundreds of items - literally), but frown on anyone deviating their order from how anything is offered for sale. If a breakfast item calls for poached eggs, don't think about asking for scrambled. As I have said before, I know that I am not the most adventurous eater among this group...and that may not be the best menu style to suit me. Yes, you can be the creative genius, but I like what I like - and *I'M* paying the check. One Yelp review mentioned that the cook (Shopsin's son) once told a patron who asked for a simple substitution, "there are 900 items on the menu, find something you like or get the @#$% out!" OK...I know the rules, and I can play by whatever rules are put in front of me...so long as I know the rules.
Lexi and I were the first to arrive and we began to peruse the
EXTENSIVE menu. The menu that Lexi had previously viewed - and made a selection from - had been changed. Honestly, even with "900 items" (or however many!) on their menu, I still wasn't sure that I was going to find something I wanted. I looked at some of the combos, and most of them consisted of two or three things that I would like and one that I wouldn't. Not for nothing, but if I am spending $20+ on breakfast, I'm not willing to let part of it just go because the cook is too "eccentric," which, in this case, means full of himself, to allow any simple substitutions. Billyboy arrived, pre-printed and highlighted menu in hand a few minutes later. His selection, I believe, remained on the current menu - but, he still chose to deviate when it came time to order. Brett, unfortunately, was having travel difficulties. He was running late, and we were stuck in line. I warned him that he had better do what he could to get there - because if they called our table, we weren't willing to risk the wrath to not be ready to be seated. He arrived shortly before we were seated and tragedy was averted.
The place is small. It has maybe three or four two-top table, two four-top tables and a three-seat counter. It took just over an hour to get a seat for our four-pack. Fortunately, we were pretty much ready to go with the ordering when it came time. The waiter set four plastic cups (clear, Solo-like) of water on the table, and we placed our order. I ordered the Moe I - a maple glazed bacon sandwich, using pancakes as the bread, topped with scrambled eggs. I have a sneaky suspicion that unless you specify, you will get poached or sunny-side up, but they actually let me order scrambled. A minor victory? Brett ordered the "Greekboy," for which he took a good-natured ribbing for the rest of the day. This is a sandwich consisting of brisket, feta, olives, and some other stuff. Lexi had the pastrami hash and billyboy had the "ABC," which was a fried chicken breast, smothered in pork cream gravy with eggs and grits. We tried to order a side of kasha varnishkas, but our waiter told us "I don't think they'll LET YOU order that....you guys ordered way too much food." Ummm...OK. I wonder how they would react to ChiTownDiner coming in and ordering "the left side of the menu?"
Next,
I was berated for taking a picture. I guess I probably should have seen that one coming, and might have, were it not for the cute Asian girl taking pictures at the counter the whole time she'd been sitting there. As Lexi pointed out, she had one advantage over me...she had a vagina. Maybe I should think about getting one of those? What follows is the only picture I was able to take while in Shopsin's.
The food comes and goes. Honestly, it was pretty good. I know that I didn't order the most exotic thing on the menu, but we all agreed that the food was most certainly fresh, most certainly prepared well, and absolutely well-executed. My eggs tasted like real eggs...I am not sure how to describe the average supermarket-purchased eggs - but, these were delicious. My
pancakes were served with REAL maple syrup - a plus, for sure. There is no doubt in my mind that Mr. Shopsin understands that using quality ingredients leads to a far superior end-product. My dining companions had similar positive reviews of their meals, as well. I am sure that they will post their experiences.
The story doesn't really end there. Lexi wanted to get her copy of Shopsin's book signed by the author. Knowing that even asking depended on the attitude that Shopsin sprung forth during any portion of our meal, this was no sure thing. As we were finishing our meal, Shopsin took a seat towards the entrance to the restaurant, which was essentially at my back. A young man approached at Shopsin directed him to the line of waiting customers. The young man told Shopsin that he wasn't planning on eating - so, what did ol' Kenny do? He told him to "get the #$%^ out!" The persistent (or stupid?) young man explained that he was friendly with one of the workers and just wanted to say "hi." Kenny told him, "Fine. Say hello...and get the #$^% out!" He said hello...and sure enough, Kenny says "Good...now get the @#$%^ out!"
At this point, Lexi has a look of grey wash over her face as the odds of getting this book signed appear to be dwindling. Still, we leave our money on the table, billyboy and Brett head out, and Lexi and I make our way over to Mr. Shopsin, still sitting on his perch. Lexi initiates conversation, tells him that she would like her book signed, and
he is about the most amiable guy anyone could ever want to meet. Maybe there is something to this vagina thing after all. He's laughing, joking and chatting...and signing. Meanwhile, billyboy is lining up to take a picture of the exterior of the restaurant. This draws the ire of knucklehead cook son who belts "I thought I told you to put that #$%^in' camera away?" Kenny looks up at us and says something to the effect of "I just don't know where he gets it from? He just seems to get irritated about 15 minutes past the hour...every hour." (It was about 15 minutes past the hour, FWIW) Yeah, Ken, I don't know where he gets it from, either.
In the end, the debate became whether or not we would want to go back. Sure, the food is good, but - even for NYC - pretty overpriced. Three breakfasts and one lunch sandwich came to $90, including tip - and, for that money, the two of us who ordered coffee, never had our coffee refilled once. The general conclusion was that it would be a place to take people to for the "experience" - but, I would think that you could get enough of that just standing in the Market for a few minutes...and then move on to eat someplace where you could be valued as a customer and not treated like an inconvenience, unworthy of the privilege of dining on their grub.
