He was the man who turned the overstuffed pastrami sandwich into a New York landmark.
And the Broadway legend who could bestow the ultimate accolade on the city's celebrities - by creating sandwiches named after them.
Milton Parker, owner of the Carnegie Deli, who died last week, was a man who lived large and did his best to make sure his fellow New Yorkers did the same.
"Milton didn't know what cholesterol meant," recalled his son-in-law, Sandy Levine, the Carnegie's manager. "The doctor would say, 'Milton, you have to drop 30 pounds.' He'd say, 'Yes, yes,' then come in here and eat and eat. But hey, he lived to be 90."
Parker had great fun deciding which bold-face names would appear on his menu.
There's a Woody Allen special ("lotsa corned beef and pastrami"). And one named for the late comic Henny Youngman (Nova Scotia salmon and cream cheese on a giant toasted bagel, with lettuce and tomatoes).
In 2006, talk-show host Jerry Springer got a pastrami, corned beef, tongue and Swiss cheese creation in his honor.
"I have a general rule: I never eat anything bigger than my head," Springer told The Post yesterday.
"But I broke the rule when I ate the sandwich he named for me."
Parker was a presence at the front of the deli on Seventh Avenue near West 55th Street, greeting old-time customers and hungry tourists with the same warm smile.
"He created the gargantuan sandwich," recalled Levine. "One pound of meat, piled six to eight inches high. You got the quantity and the quality."
When Parker sat down to dine, however, he'd always start off with a foot-long frankfurter.
At his memorial Monday at the Riverside Chapel, Parker's daughter Marian placed one on his coffin.
"I said, 'This hot dog is for you, Dad,' " she recalled.
In 1976, Parker bought the Carnegie with a partner, Leo Steiner, who died in 1987, and helped turn the place into a showbiz hangout. Milton Berle, Jackie Gleason and half the members of the Friar's Club were regulars.
Parker wrote a book called "How to Feed Friends and Influence People: The Carnegie Deli," explaining his deli management style.
Among his rules: Keep it simple, do not be greedy, and have fun.
"He loved to eat," remembered waitress Rosie Ruenanukool, a 24-year employee.
"His wife was always saying she didn't want him to eat so much, so he'd live longer. So he'd hide the food under his napkin."t
And the Broadway legend who could bestow the ultimate accolade on the city's celebrities - by creating sandwiches named after them.
Milton Parker, owner of the Carnegie Deli, who died last week, was a man who lived large and did his best to make sure his fellow New Yorkers did the same.
"Milton didn't know what cholesterol meant," recalled his son-in-law, Sandy Levine, the Carnegie's manager. "The doctor would say, 'Milton, you have to drop 30 pounds.' He'd say, 'Yes, yes,' then come in here and eat and eat. But hey, he lived to be 90."
Parker had great fun deciding which bold-face names would appear on his menu.
There's a Woody Allen special ("lotsa corned beef and pastrami"). And one named for the late comic Henny Youngman (Nova Scotia salmon and cream cheese on a giant toasted bagel, with lettuce and tomatoes).
In 2006, talk-show host Jerry Springer got a pastrami, corned beef, tongue and Swiss cheese creation in his honor.
"I have a general rule: I never eat anything bigger than my head," Springer told The Post yesterday.
"But I broke the rule when I ate the sandwich he named for me."
Parker was a presence at the front of the deli on Seventh Avenue near West 55th Street, greeting old-time customers and hungry tourists with the same warm smile.
"He created the gargantuan sandwich," recalled Levine. "One pound of meat, piled six to eight inches high. You got the quantity and the quality."
When Parker sat down to dine, however, he'd always start off with a foot-long frankfurter.
At his memorial Monday at the Riverside Chapel, Parker's daughter Marian placed one on his coffin.
"I said, 'This hot dog is for you, Dad,' " she recalled.
In 1976, Parker bought the Carnegie with a partner, Leo Steiner, who died in 1987, and helped turn the place into a showbiz hangout. Milton Berle, Jackie Gleason and half the members of the Friar's Club were regulars.
Parker wrote a book called "How to Feed Friends and Influence People: The Carnegie Deli," explaining his deli management style.
Among his rules: Keep it simple, do not be greedy, and have fun.
"He loved to eat," remembered waitress Rosie Ruenanukool, a 24-year employee.
"His wife was always saying she didn't want him to eat so much, so he'd live longer. So he'd hide the food under his napkin."t
The man ate a freakin' hot dog and deli every day of his life and lived to be 90 freakin years old.
Screw you health nazi's.
I want a hot pastrami on rye two knishes a plate of pickles and Dr Brown Black Cherry soda. Stat.
10 comments:
And have a cigarette while you're at it!
Wait a minute. Are you equating eating with sex? Hmmmmmmmmmmm. Interesting knox you dirty bird.
Plus I smoke cigars.
That is most people think about a cigarette after doing the horizontal mambo. So to speak.
I don't understand the whole cholesterol thing. I'm being serious. Could someone explain it? I mean I know there's so called good cholesterol and then there's bad cholesterol and...it exhausts me just thinking about it. Help me someone, help an old fat man. Okay, not so old and not so fat but you gotta exaggerate for effect.
I'd like to try, ricpic, but a lot of the science on it turns out not to be so good.
Very dad. My pickle is completing down.
OH NOES!!!
Excellent deli, not notably inferior to Katz's on the one or two occasions I patronized them. (And in midtown! Good times...)
Hope they keep up the high standards (and high-stacked sandwiches).
trooper, I used to smoke, so it falls into the "guilty pleasure" category for me. Now that smoking's utterly demonized, they're working on things like "trans-fats." Who knows, deli sandwiches could be next.
(Dr Brown's cream soda is the best, btw.)
a lot of the science on it turns out not to be so good
I have been reading a lot about low-carb eating, and trying to do some of it myself, though not too strictly. The book "Good Calories, Bad Calories" is pretty revealing --it's shocking just how little the "experts" really know about fat/cholesterol and supposedly unhealthy eating.
About the time the high-carb diet became CW, and high fructose corn syrup replaced sugar, that's about when obesity and diabetes started to boom.
Correlation not being causation, of course.
But it sucks that they were basically making stuff up, most likely for monetary gain.
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