Barney Greengrass

Barney Greengrass opened in 1908. Think about that math for a moment as you step inside and realize that probably nothing has changed in the intervening years.

As iconic as the place is, it's a tad shabby. That's not to say it's dirty—it's not. But compared to some of its contemporaries, the place does show the wear of time and the stubbornness of its adherence to the "if it ain't broke" philosophy. But by the same token, there's a real and palpable charm to the room. And when you’re inside, there's a specific feel that goes beyond the superficial. "All that glitters" and all of that.

If you're here and have no interest in smoked fish, you're going to be paying a whole bunch of money for eggs. That would be a real waste. Show up ready for sturgeon, sable, nova, lox, whitefish-all of that stuff that murders your breath but feeds your soul. Make no mistake: you'll get your eggs cooked perfectly, but don't get them without that smoked-fish addition. You’ll forget allll about bacon.

Lox, eggs, and onions are a classic, and you can’t go wrong. But you could also go the sandwich route, sturgeon or sable on rye with lettuce, onion, tomato, and mayo.

Old-timers who've earned preferential treatment rub elbows with stroller-pushing Nouveau Yorkers. It gets crowded. If you're smart, you'll send an advance party to scout a table. Or you can show up during the week, when it's easy to just sit and have a meal.

It’s cash only, and they’re closed Mondays, and there are no reservations, so be mindful of that.

Is Barney Greengrass pricey? Yes. Is it the best? I wouldn’t say so. Is it a wholly unique, essentially New York place with a ton of character where you can get a delicious meal? Damn right it is. Go to Barney Greengrass for the experience of going to Barney Greengrass, but don't be a schlemiel by missing out on the power behind their throne, and order the sturgeon.