Farewell to Forlini's
Manhattan's Longstanding Power-Lunch Red Sauce Joint Turns Off the Lights
The sad news arrived yesterday that Forlini’s, the downtown red-sauce institution where judges and lawyers met for decades to sup, rub elbows and make deals, had closed for good.
Forlini’s opened in 1956 at 93 Baxter Street and has remained in the Forlini family for its entire run. If you look up any article written about the place over the last 66 years, it’s not long before a judge, detective or Mayor is mentioned or quoted.
Joe Forlini, who runs the restaurant with his cousin Derek Forlini, told Eater earlier this week that the building that houses the restaurant, as well as the restaurant interior itself, had been sold. Forlini said, “My cousin and I are in our sixties now,” he says, indicating it was simply time to hang it up.
New York is blessed with many of these old-school Italian restaurants, among them Rao’s, Gene’s and John’s of 12th Street in Manhattan; Bamonte’s, Michael’s of Brooklyn and Frost in Brooklyn; Don Peppe and Park Side in Queens; and Mario’s and Dominick’s in The Bronx. Still, a closure like Forlini’s hurts.
I wrote something about Forlini’s in August of 2009 for my “Who Goes There?” column at Eater. Here is an excerpt. I was feeling a bit salty that day, it seems. Believe me, it was all written with affection.
The conventional scuttlebutt on this family-owned, half-century-old restaurant is that is survives on the patronage of the judges, lawyers and various legal professionals who work at the hulking Manhattan Criminal Courts Building just across Baxter Street. And that scuttlebutt is true. But those courtroom jockeys are all on holiday in August.
“This is a big vacation month for us,” said the smiling, moustachioed bartender, whom I had pretty much all to myself. “Very slow.” Why not just close during August? “We close only one day a year, Christmas Day. There’s still enough people to stay open.” Among those few people on a recent night were a family whose son kept fleeing the table to play a video game in the bar area, and a resident loudmouth holding forth on subjects including Russian literature, politics, the Romanian revolution of 1989, actor Peter Ustinov, and a married couple, known to both he and the restaurant’s manager, who had put on a show of bad behavior the previous evening. “That was what you would call a sketch,” said the manager, with exacting syntax.
Lunches are the big thing here, not dinner. I ate at one of the tables opposite the bar. It seemed more convivial. When it’s sparsely populated, the airless main dining room—with its salmon-colored booths, tan walls and bad oil paintings—can feel like an upholstered mausoleum. The narrow bar, where it is also possible to eat, feels more like a tavern you might find in any New York neighborhood.
I’ve eaten at Forlini’s a few times. The food is not special, though I could see getting attached to it if I ate there five lunches a week. I acted on a tip that spaghetti and meatballs, though not on the printed menu, is available and good. True on both counts. Plus, it is one of the cheapest entrees available—$9!—on a menu that can skew pricey. I did not opt for the numerous listed cocktails which the menu “suggested”: Kir Royale, Rusty Nail, Singapore Sling, Pink Squirrel. (Bet they were already suggesting those back in 1956, when Forlini’s opened).
If I could go back in time, I would order all those cocktails.
Love this old post from Brooks of Sheffield!
Not crazy about Gene's but Don Peppe and Park Side are amazing. John's on 12th been meaning to check out, how does it stack up?