The history of Jews and coffeehouses in New York began in the American colonial era. On September 1654, twenty-three Sephardi Jewish refugees from Brazil were granted asylum at New Amsterdam. Soon after, with the surrender of the Dutch to the British, New Amsterdam was renamed New York. English customs were introduced to the city, including the coffeehouse. Early New York coffeehouses—such as the Exchange Coffee-House, the Merchants’ Coffee-House, and Tontine Coffee-House—were sites of commerce and attracted the business of Jewish merchants.
The 1830s and 1840s saw a rise of immigration to America from central Europe. German Jewish migrants would gather in Sinsheimer Café. Eventually, B’nai B’rith (Sons of the covenant) was founded in Sinsheimer Café under the leadership of Henry Jones. B’nai B’rith is a secular fraternal organization combining the traditions of Judaism and the Free Masons, which still exists today.
In the 1850s and 1860s, saloons, taverns, and clubs replaced English-style coffeehouses in New York. A beer cellar on Broadway near Bleecker Street owned by Charles Ignatius Pfaff earned a reputation among journalists, critics, writers, and artists as New York’s first and only “bohemian” nightspot. In an unfinished poem from the 1860s, Walt Whitman, a habitué, memorialized the vault at Pfaff’s
As far as we know, Jews were not part of the new bohemian circles at Pfaff’s, with the exception of the actress and poet Adah Isaacs Menken.
Alongside bohemian taverns like Pfaff’s, social clubs arose in mid-19th century New York. The first to open in 1836 was the Union Club, reserved for “gentlemen of social distinction.”
In 1852, six German Jewish immigrants who were excluded from the Union Club established Harmonie Gesellschaft (Harmonie Club). Much like other clubs, membership in the Harmonie Club was limited and granted only to those men able to pay its high initiation fee and annual dues, usually prosperous bankers, businessmen, and professionals.
By the early 1880s, beer cellars, saloons, and clubs dominated New York’s social and cultural realm, and for a time cafés were scarce. In 1881, the New Yorker, businessman, and writer Francis B. Thurber wrote,
“The coffeehouse...no longer exists among us...we are perhaps too busy a people to support cafés like those of Europe.”
This changed, however, in the next few decades as migrants from Eastern Europe—including countless Jews—immigrated to New York, fleeing poverty and violence. By 1920, there were over a million and a half Jews in New York City. These Yiddish-speaking, mostly poor eastern European Jews settled en masse in the area we now refer to as the Lower East Side. These immigrants supported a revival of cafés in New York.
Many Eastern European Jewish immigrants were attracted to Schwab’s Café, which was established in the 1880s by a radical socialist, and later anarchist, immigrant, Justus Schwab. Schwab’s quickly became “the gathering place for all bold, joyful, and freedom-loving spirits,” including a number of eastern European Jewish immigrants involved in radical socialist and anarchist politics, such as Shoel (Saul) Yanovsky, Dovid Edelshtat, and Abraham (Abe) Cahan, who became important figures in Yiddish journalism and literature.
Such Jewish intellectuals also settled in Sach’s Café where “Mrs. Sachs served fine coffee and cheese cake, and where the ‘cream’ of the radikalen gathered nightly.”
The Jewish poet Emma Goldman was one notable habitué of Sach’s, being one of the few women who frequented the café. Goldman saw her initiation into Sachs’ Café as establishing her lifelong intellectual and political engagement, first as a Yiddish lecturer and writer and later as a writer in English, as “red Emma” or “the most dangerous woman in America.”
The cafés of New York also nurtured Yiddish theater, providing actors and playwrights a space to collaborate and create.
Pioneers of Yiddish Theater like Jacob Gordin traveled from the cafés of Odessa to New York and became habitués of Zeitlin’s Café, and later Schreiber’s Café.
During the 1890s and early 1900s, Herrick’s Café was “the gathering place of the East Side intelligentsia.” Owned by two Jewish brothers, Herrick’s was especially home to Yiddish writers and journalists during a time when New York became home to the world’s first mass-circulation Yiddish newspaper market. There
Although most of the time, questions of art and literature were on the table at Herrick’s, in September 1898, the café became the site of violent religious tension. As the New York Sun reported, unlike other Jewish establishments, Herrick’s decided to stay open for the Eve of the Day of Atonement. This offended “the gray-bearded orthodox patriarchs,” who protested the café’s decision, and eventually a row broke out which required police intervention. After the night’s violence, the café opened in the morning of the holy day, and more violence ensued, with several people arrested by the police, who had to use clubs to control “the riotous mob of several thousand Hebrews.”
When Café Herrick closed down, a new café called Sholem’s opened in the same location. Here, the older and the younger generations of Yiddish writers clashed, both drawn to such Lower East side cafés.
The younger generation was represented by a group of writers who became known as Di Yunge (The young ones). Di Yunge ushered in a modernist revolution in Yiddish literature, aiming “to create for Yiddish literature in America its own, independent home.” They eschewed the “sweat- shop poetry” of their predecessors and redefined Yiddish literature as “a probing into the self.” In turn, the old “sweatshop poets” like Morris Rosenfeld dismissed Di Yunge as “decadents.”
Di Yunge eventually abandoned Sholem’s Café, and migrated instead to a small and simple café at East Broadway named after its two owners: Goodman and Levine’s. In his memoirs, Reuven Iceland, a member of Di Yunge, remembered that “the young writers then in New York” used to stream into Goodman and Levine’s Café not because of the food, which was very bad, but because
By leaving Sholem’s, the young poets also avoided “being under one roof with the older writers.”
While these poetic revolutions took place in Sholem’s and in Goodman and Levine’s, the Yiddish writer Lamed Shapiro and his wife opened Café Central which became
It was, however, a short-lived venture, since Shapiro was reluctant to charge many of his customers, who were also good friends of his.
Café Europa seemed to replace both Goodman and Levin’s and Shapiro’s Café Central in the years following World War I. The journalist Berl Botwinik wrote in the Forverts about Café Europa:
Chaver Paver (the pen name of Gershon Einbinder) arrived in New York in 1923 as a young, aspiring Yiddish writer and journalist. Paver recalled,
Around 1910, a company of writers, theater people, political radicals, and artists began to settle in Greenwich Village; they declared their neighborhood a new bohemia, a center of “experimental life.” “In the bohemian geography of the imagination,” the historian Christine Stansell writes, “Greenwich Village was proximate and permeable to the Jewish Lower East Side.”
One of the cafés in Greenwich Village catering to the bohemians was Strunsky’s Café, known as “Three Steps Down.” It was owned and operated by Mascha and Albert (“Papa”) Strunsky, Jewish migrants from Russia, and was located in the basement of 19 West Eighth Street. As in Europe, and on the Lower East Side, Strunsky’s Café advertised in the literary magazines of the village as
During the 1920s, Jewish immigrants and their children abandoned the East Side’s cramped quarters in favor of more spacious and modern housing in Brooklyn and the Bronx. The East Side remained the seat of many communal and cultural institutions, synagogues, and the editorial offices of Yiddish newspapers, but only the poorest of the city’s Jews resided there.
Of the cafés which opened uptown, including Café Monopol and Café Boulevard, it was Café Royal that thrived and persisted for decades. Far different from the small, familiar cafés in the Lower East Side, Café Royal was expensive to poor writers, its “continental décor, tablecloths, high ceilings, paneled walls, and long windows” daunted “the casual passerby.”
The café was divided into sections: “to the left...sat the writers and to the right the actors. In a rear room, shut off from sight by a curtain and a large credenza, chess players mixed with card experts and horse-race betters.”
The Café Royal attracted Jewish and non-Jewish celebrities from near and far. E. E. Cummings would drop in on occasion for a conversation with the In Zikh Yiddish poets. The Russian poet Sergei Yesenin, with his wife, Isadora Duncan, came there when in New York, and even Charlie Chaplin would visit from time to time. Leo Rosten wrote in the New Yorker,
By the 1930s, the Café Royal became more of a place where tourists went to visit—as if it were a museum or as if the Yiddish actors there were acting a play. The Jewish folklorist Nathan Ausubel wrote about Café Royal as a bygone world in his unpublished manuscript “Hold Up the Sun,” a series of vignettes focusing primarily on the East Side. In a chapter called “Art with Tea and Lemon,” Ausubel writes,
Now, the habitués are a “strange assortment of museum pieces,” who “do not fit well into the present scheme of things” and the Yiddish actors are “old troupers...men and women fallen from the past glory and affluence.”
Even so, Café Royal remained open until 1952, in the meantime attracting Jewish refugees from World War II Europe who found a home among the aging Yiddish actors and journalists.
Although the heyday of cafés was waning, New York Jewish café culture was continued in mid-century cafeterias. Jewish students at the City College of New York (CCNY) in Harlem ate lunches and argued endlessly about politics and everything else in particular alcoves of the cafeteria, self-divided by ethnicity and politics. Writers and editors for new American newspapers and magazines also gathered in the cafeteria. William Phillips, the Jewish co-founder and editor of the Partisan Review since 1934, remembered,
“Our favorite hangout was...Stewart’s cafeteria on Sheridan Square, where for a dime you could get coffee and cake, and sit for hours arguing and solving the problems of the world.”
From the mid-1940s to the 1970s, cafeterias attracted Jewish immigrants, Holocaust survivors, and even some American-born Jews, providing habitués with food, drink, and a place to socialize and talk. One of the best examples of such spaces was the Garden Cafeteria.
The Garden Cafeteria, established in 1941 by Charles Metzger, was open twenty-four hours a day and was quite successful from the beginning. It was, according to Wakefield, “a refuge...of the spirit of the old East Side.” Here, Yiddish literary culture found a home much like it had in previous cafés. Isaac Bashevis Singer, the most well-known postwar Yiddish writer, who wrote for the Forverts for many decades, was a habitué of the Garden Cafeteria and described it as “a second home.”
By the 1970s, the Garden Cafeteria ceased to be a center for Jewish writers, journalists, and artists. Still, it attracted many old Jewish habitués who held on to memories of the cafeteria as it once was. Bruce Davidson, a photographer, immersed himself in this cafeteria community. Among the people whom Davidson spoke with and photographed was a man who worked for Forverts newspaper, who told him,
Jewish café culture as it once existed in New York within the walls of Herrick's, Europa, Royal and many other cafés and cafeterias no longer survives. Today there are no spaces where Jewish writers, artists, actors, and thinkers meet over a cup of coffee to laugh and argue and recite poetry. Many habitués of New York cafés would bring Jewish culture to the cafés of Tel Aviv and elsewhere, just as it had been brought to New York in the first place by migrants from the cafés of Europe. Even more would preserve it in the cafés of their memories, inspiring generations of nostalgia for the golden era of cafés.
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