The Politics of Zabar's
Jerry Nadler's bag, James Baldwin's mixtape and Only NY
“Didn’t I read Mein Kampf? I’m a Jew. Hitler is my enemy. I should know what he’s doing.” – Murray Klein to New York magazine 1982
We’re often reminded about how you can’t really separate the political from food, how every dish tells some kind of story, from where the people who worked in the kitchen to prepare it came from to the things a culture had to endure to create it. If you sit down and to a meal without considering those things, then you’re overlooking a vital part of the experience of eating.
But what about food and politics? Obviously there’s the corndog at the Iowa State Fair or whatever the hell Trump was trying to prove when he ordered a ton of McDonald’s for Clemson’s football team, but I’m always interested in the stories behind local food politics. Obama’s love for Valois in Chicago or why the most powerful politicians in Texas hang out at a dark little bar in Austin. What these place or specific types of food mean to the locals. Why they matter.
And while I’m pretty sure it had zero outcome on the eventual results, when gubernatorial Cynthia Nixon went to Zabar’s and ordered lox, cream cheese, onions, capers, and tomato slices on … a cinnamon raisin bagel, New York City basically stopped for a second. It was like a record scratching and a party stopping in a 1980s movie. It didn’t matter what side you were on; the bagel order was a truly WTF moment. It was so difficult to comprehend who would order such a thing.
That was nearly three years ago, and I still think about it from time to time. To Nixon’s credit, she’s a lifelong New Yorker and I believe that order was really what she likes —more power to her. But it also felt like a natural successor to Bill de Blasio’s Pizzagate gaffe a few years earlier when the mayor did something that, in my opinion, is even weirder than Nixon’s bagel order: he ate his pizza with a fork and knife.
I’m guessing that nearly everywhere in the country has these weird little “I’m just like you” politician food photo ops. Whether they go so wrong where they make national news, I’m not entirely sure. I reached out to a handful of people I know who have run for office or worked for politicians in New York City, and they all pretty much agreed that de Blasio probably didn’t think the way he ate his pizza would become a massive joke or Nixon probably didn’t think people would spend more time talking about her bagel order than they would her policies (which, I should probably mention that I supported). But something I found so interesting and have thought about since that fateful day in 2018 is what Zabar’s represents in the grand scheme of things in terms of the politics of New York City. Would the trip to Zabar’s become a thing for people seeking office in New York City and beyond?
Up until recently, the answer was: not so much. The pandemic obviously made it tough for candidates to get out and try local food this time around, but then, just last week, a little glimmer of light as Zabar’s was in the middle of the most important political news of the day. I’ll use a Curbed headline to sum it up: “A Lox on Both Your Houses: Jerry Nadler Brought a Zabar’s Bag to the Impeachment.”
Because I’m me and I have a newsletter named after sandwiches that consist of some sort of fish resting under melted cheese, I wondered whether or not that was a calculated move on Nadler’s part. Some sort of signal to his constituency. A way to say, “New York is in the house.” Or, like Andrew Yang showing up to a bodega and buying a bunch of bananas recently, some sort of political stunt. Nadler, who has been serving in congress since 1992, is a mainstay who had an easy time winning reelection again last November. So what would be the point of that?
Log story short: "That isn’t planned, that’s just Nadler lol,” Whitney Hu, the interim campaign manager for Dianne Morales mayoral campaign (Note: I really like Morales and hope you check her out) tells me over DM. A friend who grew up on the Upper West Side not too far from the famous store told me in typical “Over it” Manhattanite fashion “It’s not a big deal. He’s basically made of lox at this point he’s in there so much.” A few days after the impeachment hearings, I got another DM from a person connected to Zabar’s: “Hot tip: Jerry Nadler was spotted inside Zabar’s at 3:20 pm.” So, the answer is nope. The Zabar’s bag wasn’t Nadler’s way of saying “We’re going to LOX him up.”
While I was hardly surprised, I was maybe a tiny bit disappointed to find that there wasn’t some calculated, hidden meaning behind the Zabar’s bag. Not so much because I want to politicize bagels and smoked fish, but because I do like the idea of politicians reminding us what an important part places like Zabar’s as well as bars and restaurants play in our society. And that, through it all, they support these kinds of places. Because over the last year, without any real legislation to help the places we eat and drink at, it feels like they don’t.
But there’s another, less practical reason. And that is I like what Zabar’s represents as a New York City place. What’s a New York City place to me? Well, Nom Wah Tea Parlor in Chinatown is. B&H Dairy is. Punjabi Deli is. Every bodega you can get an egg and cheese at is. Gloria’s in Crown Heights…was. And then it closed because of greedy landlords. The “New York City place” doesn’t serve any specific kind of food and doesn’t really need to be able to say it’s been around since your grandparents were young. I don’t really have a strong case for what is and isn’t a New York place — you just know it after you’ve lived here long enough, and Zabar’s certainly is.
The one thing I do know is the New York City Place engages with the culture. It becomes part of the larger conversation in its neighborhood and beyond. It’s the kind of place we really should never have to worry about losing, even though that’s too often not the case. It’s a restaurant Anthony Bourdain would have visited (like he did with Gloria’s) on one of his shows or that Nora Ephron would have featured in one of her films (Zabar’s). Tourists might go there, but it doesn’t depend on out of towners to survive. Every city has places like this, and those are the spots I tend to gravitate towards, the ones that tell you about the place, the ones that people that live in the neighborhood swear allegiance to. That’s why if a person says they’re going to New Orleans, I quickly tell them to go to Frady's for a po’ boy or if they’re visiting my hometown of Chicago, go to a Harold’s for some chicken or try to make it to Calumet Fisheries. When I visit a new place, those are the kinds of places I always want to go to.
So no, Zabar’s and politics probably, hopefully won’t become intertwined more than the two have to beyond Nixon’s bagel order and Nadler’s bag. But there is a lot to be taken from the history of Zabar’s, how long it’s been around, it’s place in the community and also the words and attitude of its late co-owner Murray Klein. Klein was born in a shtetl in Ukraine as Mordecai Klein and started out at Zabar’s sweeping floors and stocking shelves in the early 1950s. Eventually, Klein became a partner and saw that the future in Manhattan was to cater to the more specialty food obsessed. Lox and whitefish are great, but Klein also took credit for having the idea to start selling nice cheese, better coffee and, maybe most famously, caviar. Klein was the sort of old-school New York character you don’t see enough of these days. A guy who went to “war” with bigger names like Macy’s over prices, saying that “''blood will run in the streets” over who could have better prices. In a show of pettiness, interesting business practice and, most importantly, showmanship, Klein publicly went toe to toe with the retail chain. Starting with chocolate. According to the New York Times in 1983:
“Macy's and Zabar's at one point were selling Lindt chocolate bars for $1.39. The price went down to 98 cents at Zabar's, then to 89 cents at Macy's, and the duel began. Currently Macy's is selling Lindt chocolate bars for 39 cents, Zabar's for 35 cents.”
That was the start. The next battle came over the condiments:
“The next skirmish in the luxury foods battle was over crocks of Pommery mustard. Macy's price was $4 for the stoneware jars, which sent Zabar's price to $2.98. Macy's dropped its price to $2.89, Zabar's to $2.59.”
And finally…
“The price for beluga generally was lolling about in the $180 range when Zabar's cut its price to $149.95 several months ago. Macy's, which usually has its caviar sale between Christmas and New Year's, started it before Thanksgiving this year, lowering its price to $145 on Nov. 20. Last week Macy's went to $139.95, then Zabar's dropped its price to $129.95, where it stood until Tuesday when Mr. Fass disclosed that Macy's price had been put at $125.”
There have been wars fought on the land we call New York City, but the only one I love is the great Caviar War of 1983. It’s a great bit of New York trivia, but I love reading about it as a reminder as this city hopefully gets to start piecing things together again soon. Zabar’s is pretty well-known today as a New York institution. But it’s still ultimately a neighborhood grocery store, and Klein was some kid from the shtetl who made it good. It’s an underdog story, and I know I certainly feel like we’re all living through a time of poor prospects. But the very existence of Zabar’s and places like it in New York and beyond do fill me with some kind of hope.
Speaking of New York Stuff…
I’ve never been shy about my love for Only NY. In my mind, they’re tied with Rowing Blazers and Noah when it comes to brands pulling off collabs that I love. But for their latest Artist Series collaboration, Only NY might be pulling off the most “I didn’t see that coming” tag team in some time by doing an Al Hirschfeld collection that will “honor the Artist’s legacy through a limited edition shirt and sweatshirt of 175 pieces total.”
James Baldwin Made a Mixtape
About a year ago, somebody shared a really fantastic Spotify mix of songs from Haruki Murakami’s record collection that I highly suggest you check out. Great mix of Sonny Rollins, Lionel Hampton, Clifford Brown and 240 hours worth of music.
It was recently brought to my attention that Ikechúkwú Onyewuenyi, a curator at the Hammer Museum in L.A., did something similar with the 32-hour “Chez Baldwin” playlist that is based off Baldwin’s vinyl collection.
“Baldwin referred to his office as a ‘torture chamber.’ We’ve all encountered those moments of writers’ block, where the process of putting pen to paper feels like bloodletting. That process of torture for Baldwin was negotiated with these records,” Onyewuenyi told Hyperallergic in December.
I highly suggest it.