Summer in a Day: Atlantic City
Plus a Review of Mischa's $29 Hot Dog; and Odd & Ends.
Following is the second edition of “The Mix”’s seasonal feature, “Summer in a Day,” designed for those who can’t get away for a full week but still want to experience some summertime fun! The first entry focused on Wildwood, New Jersey. For this one, we travel a little further up that same Jersey shore to Atlantic City.
I first visited Atlantic City as a kid, in 1976. It was still a family playland at that point, albeit a faded one.
My second visit wasn’t until 2017, with Mary Kate, who has a family history there. (Her mother and grandmother grew up in AC. Yes, people do grow up in Atlantic City, as hard as that is to imagine.) The Boardwalk was now a bit more, uh, challenging. We abandoned it fairly quickly after a young junkie started chatting me up. I thought he was just friendly; I’m from the Midwest; I think the best of people until they give me a reason not to. MK is from Jersey and intuited his game right away. When he finally asked for money for a “bus ticket”–his aim from the start—she held up her hand like a traffic cop and said, “We’re done!” We were.
I’ve been back a couple times since then and, while I understand you must watch your step when walking around this town, I’ve discovered there are definite reasons to visit that go beyond gambling. Touring Atlantic City is like crossing a rapids. You hop from stone to stone and try to avoid the raging turmoil between the rocks. Keep your balance and you’ll have a good time, particularly food-wise.
For a city that been battered about by fate and misfortune for a good half century, Atlantic City has managed to hang onto a surprising number of classic, old-school restaurants, each of them with a distinct personality and serving a different need. Here are our favorite places for a good meal and a hearty slice of atmosphere, in no particular order.
The Knife & Fork Inn. The Knife & Fork is an island of civility. Literally. Its four stately stories stand on an isolated triangle of cement, with streets on all sides; the quasi-Dutch building’s whimsical windows look out in horror at what the surrounding town has become since it opened its doors in 1911. It started out as a private men’s club and operated as a speakeasy during Prohibition. If you were powerful and corrupt and lived in AC, the Knife & Fork was your place. Political boss Enoch “Nucky” Johnson was a regular and a protector. In 1927, the Latz family bought it and ran it for nearly a century before selling it to Frank Dougherty, who also owns another AC landmark, Dock’s Oyster House. Today, all traces of its racy past are gone. It’s the kind of restaurant you’d feel safe to take your grandma to. The bar isn’t much to look at, owing to a modern remodeling, but the second floor dining room is a beaut with its arches, murals, banquettes and stained glass windows. The menu is classic steak and seafood fare.
MK: there’s a story about my Gram going to the Knife and Fork with Nucky Johnson. She saw a drink go by — it was a Planter’s Punch—she thought it was pretty and ordered it, but it was way too strong for her. She wasn’t a drinker, although I’m told later in life she did enjoy a Jack Rose occasionally. Her father had been a purveyor of alcohol and so she and Nucky knew each other from her youth.
White House Subs. To restaurant hop through old AC is to be tailed by the ghost of Frank Sinatra. He worked the boardwalk often and was a regular at all the best restaurants. He is on the wall of this 1946 sandwich shop in the form of a framed towel that was supposedly the last rag Ol’ Blue Eyes used to mop his sweaty brow during his final concert in Atlantic City. There are a lot of good subs in this world, but White House has a legit claim to making some of the best. You can get a half or a whole sandwich; a whole is big enough to feed two people. Your first-time order here should be the White House Special, an Italian meat sub piled with extra folds of Genoa salami, provolone cheese, imported ham, and capicola ham. These are layered inside a soft and remarkably flat Italian roll. Lettuce, tomato, chopped peppers, oil and vinegar complete the package. Given the amount of filling, one is thankful for the relative lack of bread. It’s a heavenly sandwich, bursting with flavor and never less than fresh, given how many are made each hour. (White House gets several bread deliveries each day.) White House is still run by the Basile and Sacco families that founded it. The waitresses and cashier are career servers, salty and sweet, depending on the moment. If you’d rather not stand in the often-long lines, get a sandwich to go. But sitting inside is quite a trip and worth the wait.
Tony’s Baltimore Grill. Even moreso than the Knife & Fork and White House Subs, stepping into this bar and restaurant is like walking through a time portal. It isn’t just a place where Sinatra might have eaten. It feels like Sinatra should be sitting at the bar right now. It is that perfect a diorama of mid-century saloon mileau. The corner building looks a bit foreboding from the outside, despite the great signage; when I first laid eyes on it, I was certain the most dangerous of dives lurked inside. Instead, there’s a warmly glowing, hook-shaped bar with some booths along the wall and large, family-oriented dining hall to the right.
The restaurant was founded in 1927 by Joseph Tarsitano, who was from Philly. Why “Baltimore”? Because they served seafood shipped in from that port city. The Tony of the name was Joseph’s son, who took it over in the 1940s and renamed it. It’s been at its current location—the former Paddy McGahn’s Cafe and Musical Bar— since 1965. I’ll be honest. Tony’s “world famous pizza” is just OK, and the also “famous” spaghetti and meatballs are only marginally better. But I’d eat and drink anything to linger at that bar a little longer. In fact, you never have to leave if you keep ordering. Tony’s is open 24 hours.
Chef Vola’s. This is the primo, AC dinner rez “get” of them all. The quirky Chef Vola’s has been in business since 1921. It hides inside a house at the elbow of a short, angled, residential street called South Albion Place. Though just a half block from the boardwalk, it is all but invisible. To get a table, you must place a call and leave a message and then pray that someone calls you back to confirm. (We first got in by walking up to the restaurant during the day. MK happened upon one of the owners, thus securing a dinner reservation for that same night.) Dining used to be only on the basement level. But a couple years ago, a relative who lived upstairs died, and now the second floor has been opened to service, making it easier to get a table. True to its original use, the restaurant feels like dining in someone’s old house. The food here is excellent. The jumbo crab cakes are the meatiest and best I’ve ever had, and the veal parmigiana is massive and served on the bone. Also, as a banana cream pie lover, I can vouch for the quality of Vola’s version. Given the restaurant’s legendary reputation, the prices are quite reasonable.
Irish Pub. Strangely, given the city’s rambunctious history, old bars are few in Atlantic City. One of the few still standing is the prosaically named Irish Pub. It is located on a side street off the northern edge of the boardwalk. It is difficult to find out much about the early history of the bar and building, though it is obviously old. It was once the Elwood Hotel, open since 1910, and probably the bottom floor operated as a speakeasy during Prohibition. By the 1950s, the bar was called the Elwood Cafe. By the 1960s, it was Feeley’s Bar, and the rooms above were Feeley’s Hotel. Most accounts of the place begin in 1972, when Richard and Cathy Burke founded the current bar. The inside is dark and sprawling, with low ceilings and various nooks and dining alcoves. Our bartender told us that he had been working there since around 1980. He related stories of how, before the dunes were built up, closing the gap between the boardwalk and the surf, storms would send surges of water pulsing through the bar, forcing him to bartend in a foot of water. The food is just what you’d expect, but the prices are quite cheap. Try the interesting St. James Potatoes, which eat like a sort of Irish poutine. Like Tony’s, The Irish Pub is also open 24 hours. There’s a Victorian-style inn above whose low rates should be a clear signal as to what the rooms are used for.
MK: One of the places my mom lived was on St. James Place, where the Irish Pub is located. She went to St. Nick’s school at the other end of the block and would wear her bathing suit under her uniform. Then, when the school day was done, she and her friends, the D’Amico twins, would run to the beach and swim. She said that the best days were when she had money to buy a hot dog from the vendor who parked his cart under the boardwalk. Hot dogs were her favorite food in the world and I almost cried when the bartender at the Irish Pub said he used to buy a hot dog from the vendor under the boardwalk until they filled it in.
Non-Food and Drink Stuff
Somehow the idea of a book store in Atlantic City seems like an absurdity, let alone one that sells used and rare books. But AC has one right in its center, Princeton Antique & Book Service. It’s sidewalk facade on Atlantic Avenue is a wall of bookshelves ripe for the browsing. Inside are more books, as well as a smattering of antiques and a quiet, contemplative atmosphere that makes for a nice break from the hubbub outside. It has been owned and run by the Ruffolo family since 1966.
Leave it to Mary Kate, with her architecture background, to know that there is a Stanford White house in the area. The 8-bedroom, cedar-shingled beach house is on the very edge of AC at Atlantic Avenue. It fronts both S. Newton Place and S. Jackson Avenue. Completed in 1906, it was one of the famous architect’s final projects before he was famously shot to death on the floor of Madison Square Garden by jealous millionaire Harry Thaw, whose showgirl wife, Evelyn Nesbit, he had seduced. It’s unclear who commissioned the house. For many decades, it was shared by two couples. One occupied the ground floor; the other took the top two floors. It sold in 2012 for more than $1 million.
Head a few miles south to Margate City to visit Lucy the Elephant, a charming piece of novelty architecture that has been around since 1881, when a man named James. V. Lafferty built the thing as a way to promote real estates sales. Lucy is 65-feet tall and made of wood and tin. Over the years, Lucy has amazingly served as a restaurant, business office, cottage, private home and tavern. She was almost demolished in the 1960s, but saved by a group of community-minded citizens, who moved her a hundred yards to her current location. According to some, Lucy is the oldest surviving example of roadside architecture in America. Recently, Lucy underwent a much-need renovation and repair. She once again welcomed visitors last December. Should you wish to spend the night inside Lucy, there are group rates available. Sorry, no couples allowed.
MK: My mom didn’t know the full Lucy story—my mom said she thought it was part of a hotel or something—but she was happy to revisit Lucy with my Dad and me in 2015. She remembered a photo from when she was a teen, holding her baby brother and waving to the camera from the top of Lucy.
There is, of course, a boardwalk in AC, and beaches, and casinos. I can’t help you with the latter. I’ve never entered a casino in my life and have no to plans to. Nor is beach life my passion, though I do enjoy a walk down the surf at sunset. AC beaches are free if you like to swim or sunbathe. One should, however, take a stroll down the long boardwalk, if only to take in its one-of-a-kind of populist, all-are-welcome raffishness. Salt water taffy retains a presence here in the form of the twin taffy titans James’ and Fralinger’s. Both were founded in the 1880s, but they’ve been owned by the same company for decades. So there’s no real rivalry here.
MK: My main advice for the boardwalk is to watch out for the seagulls. Once, when my son was young, I bought him a donut on the boardwalk and as he went to take a bite, a seagull snatched the whole thing out of his hand. He started to cry and the donut man called him over; “come here”, he said while holding out another donut, “it happens all the time!” AC seagulls are badasses.
Odds and Ends…
I had the opportunity recently to finally try the $29 hot dog entree at Mischa, the new midtown restaurant from chef Alex Stupak. The dog is surely the most famous frank in the city right now, having already been written about and reviewed by half of New York’s food media, who know a good story when they see one. I was joined in this feast by food writer Adam Platt and we ordered weiners for two, along with a few other items from the menu (including the Gai Lan Caesar salad, chilled sesame noodles and roast beef sandwich, all good). Stupek, who stopped by our table, sagely pointed out that had he put a $29 burger on his menu, nobody would be talking about whether it was worth it. The city is full of $29 burgers. But hot dogs don’t get the same respect as burgers. He thinks they should. (So do I.) “This used to be a hot dog town,” he told me. “But we’re kind of losing that in recent years. Maybe this will help bring a little of that back.” Unlike many of the fancy burgers served in New York, both the meat and the bun of the Mischa dog are made in-house. The bun is a large, oval potato roll. The dog is an 8-ounce, pork-veal blend spiced with garlic, mace and paprika; it is smoked for six hours. Stupak said he got the recipe from an old charcuterie book from the 1930s that was owned by his father. Because of the dog’s size, a pig casing is used, because sheep casings are too small for the job. It comes with a side of chili and five condiments, none of them ketchup. They are: Dijon-style mustard, relish, kimchi, chili crisp and pimento cheese. I liked them all, but longed for chopped white onion, so that I might have constructed the classic condiment combo of mustard, chili and onion. In my opinion, this dish is not a hot dog; it’s too big and too spiced for that; it’s a sausage, something like a very garlicky bratwurst. But a “$29 Sausage” would make news nowhere and probably not sell. Marketing is important. Whatever it is, it is very good and I believe worth every penny. I would gladly order one again. While there, I also tried the upended house Cosmopolitan, which contained exactly zero of the ingredients found in a classic Cosmo. Instead, it is made of plum brandy, Giffard pomegranate liqueur, apricot liqueur, and lemon juice. But, in a wonderful slight of hand, it looks and tastes exactly like a regular Cosmo. Hot dogs are not the only classic things Mischa can handily subvert, it seems. (Amusingly, the afternoon I sampled Mischa’s Cosmo, Toby Cecchini, the inventor of the cocktail, was sitting at a table ten feet away. He did not, however, order the drink)…
…Black Pearl, the Melbourne cocktail bar institution, will celebrate its 21st anniversary on August 13 with a special bar takeover with the UK’s Panda & Sons founder Iain MacPherson. The event will be open to the public… In other Melbourne news, The Classic Cocktail Book Club will kick off on Aug. 29 at 7 pm at the The Everleigh. The first book to be discussed will be Stanley Clisby Arthur’s 1939 work Famous New Orleans Drinks and How to Mix ‘Em… On Aug. 22, Kitchen Arts & Letters, the culinary book store on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, will hold “Gin, Tonic, Tapes—An Interactive Food and Drink Experience With Wander, Eat and Tell.” To sign up for the Zoom class, which costs $95, go to the store’s website. Among the perks of signing up are recipes, advance instructions and a copy of 3-Ingredient Cocktails by yours truly… Pursued by Bear, the Washington State winery co-owned by actor Kyle MacLachlan, and known for its French-style wines, will introduce a Chardonnay this fall… I wrote about how Dirty Martini drinkers are getting increasingly particular in their bar orders for Vinepair… Alicia Kennedy will kick off the book tour for her new work, No Meat Required, on Sept. 14 at the The Invisible Dog Art Center in Brooklyn… Marea, the acclaimed Italian restaurant whose Manhattan location is temporarily closed for renovation, is doing a series of pop-ups this summer. In partnership with Classic Harbor Line, Marea is bringing their dishes to sea on the America 2.0 Sailboat. The three-course meal is $178 per person, and will occur every Monday from Aug. 14 to Sept. 25. For one night only, Marea will be at Tribeca’s Spring Place rooftop, on August 15th from 6-8:30 pm.
This is so damn good, makes me wanna gas up the Pinto and haul north for the weekend
White House subs were my family's gold standard in the day. The recently opened in New Orleans Francolini's Italian Deli does a very respectable and delicious Italian and many other fine sandwiches. Their slogan is "Not Everything from Jersey Sucks". When I was there, I mused that I might have died and gone to heaven.