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| Elaine's, 1703 2nd Ave, (off 88th) in New York City Photo by Shanna Ravindra |
Among the stories were these:
One night my wife and I went in late. The place was full. One table was open: Woody Allen’s table, next to the door to the back room. Elaine seated us there. A little later, Woody himself came in with a small group of friends. The table on the other side of the door was now empty, and Elaine seated them there. The noise level dropped slightly as some patrons tried to calculate the levels of protocol that had been violated. We offered to move. Elaine said, “He’s happy where he is.”
— Roger Ebert
One night in the early 1980s, I went there after midnight after a party and Elaine told me a harrowing story about how she had just been robbed.
A guy had come in and asked to see her privately. He appeared to be a respectable person, so she took him to a back room where he pulled a gun and pointed it at her under the table, and demanded all of her rings.
She says to this guy: "No. You are not going to have my rings. Go ahead, pull the trigger. But before you can get out of here, my staff will tear you apart."
The guy didn't know what to do. It was a standoff. Just staring. So he got up and just walked out -- without the rings.
— Forest Gump author Winston Groom, writing in the New York Post
Elaine was an alchemist of people, a casting director of that row of tables along the wall. Authors were her special pets, but at her saloon she mixed writers with movie stars, the forgettable with the famous, the highborn with lowlifes, homicide detectives with royalty, familiar faces with those recognized only from their speaking voices. The result? More sparkling evenings in that one establishment than anywhere else in Manhattan. Conversation was the currency that counted at Elaine’s. She required that you be ready to have fun, and either be entertaining or be entertained.
She made this Nobody feel like a Somebody: “Mel, don’t sell yourself short,” she said in that wonderful gruff voice, “you secretaries run the whole effin’ world.”
— Melanie Hogue
I went mostly because I liked Tom the bartender. Later on because of Loren the pianist. My favorite memory of the place was the night (28 years ago) when I went to the mens room. While standing at the urinal, a then-famous b-list actress stormed in and went right to the mirror to check herself out. Took her about 15 seconds to realize she walked into the wrong restroom. She was certainly embarrassed, yet she withdrew with a wonderful grace. Later her table, which included Sidney Poitier, walked out past me and we winked at each other. It was a strangely touching moment… I was 22 years old at the time. …Taught me about grace.
— "Tim"
now, your going to have to die before you can get into elaine’s new place. because, if there is an afterlife, big mama will still be holding court with the mike mc alary, jack maple, frank mc court, steve rubell, jackie kennedy onassis, george steinbrenner (she always sat in george’s box for yankee games and had a complete collection of world series rings from george’s years as yankee boss), john lennon crowd that passed through the elaine’s on second avenue before passing through the pearly gates. there were many new yorkers who called elaine “big mama”, i preferred to add “big surrogate mother-in-law” to her many monikers. her joint was (especially on thursday nights) the primary pickup bar for boomers and beyond boomers in gotham. if she caught me spending too much time chatting with an attractive person in her place i would get the laser stare that said “remember you bring your wife and kids here o’brien”. during my years reporting on channel five’s ten o’clock news, my crew and i, on the way back from the night’s assignment, would stop our live truck outside the window at the end of the bar, i’d blow a kiss to the man behind the bar and a waiter would bring out a round with a soda for the driver. imagine that, curb service at elaine’s. she had a genius way of attracting the mix of writers and readers, politicians and pundits, cops and robbers, movie makers and movie stars, guys and dolls who would guarantee that, if you leave bored, you are the bore. they may continue to serve food and drink at elaine’s but the babe who put new york’s most entertaining band of butts in the seats and on the stools is, sadly, gone forever.
– Bob O’brien
I was there opening night, a friend of Elaine’s partner, Donald Ward. Before the celebrities was Alfredo’s (Elaine’s boyfriend at the time.) northern Italian cooking and fresh pastas, a culinary revelation for a guy out of the Bronx who, till then, thought Italian cooking and tomato sauce were synonymous. Over the years, Elaine and me became friends and often had late dinners together. Some of the best times were after 4AM and the doors were locked. Poker games with Patrick and Nick, Jack’s caustic wit, Bruce testing his ideas, celebrities dancing on the bar. Great action for those of us who couldn’t or wouldn’t go home. Friendship with Elaine endured. She was always there, always, and will be missed.
— Howard Josepher
I moved to New York over 3 years ago and was fortunate enough to live right around the corner from Elaine’s. I was just a small town girl from Lubbock, Texas and from the get go Elaine was always so warm and welcoming towards me, along with her staff. I remember, one day I was walking past her restaurant and I said, “Hello, Elaine”, she said, “don’t say hello to me unless you are going to get me a cab.” So, I gladly put out my hand and hailed her a cab. When the cab arrived, she opened the door and gave me a kiss on the cheek. And, after that day, there were many more kisses on my cheek. I loved her honesty. She will be sorely missed.
— Lezlie George
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