When walking west on 46th Street in Manhattan (Restaurant Row), one of the first stops you hit is "Joe Allen". This is one of four Joe Allens owned by the restauratuer of the same name. The other three are in Miami Beach, London and Paris. These are just four of the dozen or so restaurants (including Orso) that Mr. Allen owns. Joe Allen also had the good fortune of Rosie O'Donnell's free advertising when she'd mention her latest adventure while dining there, back in the day when Rosie had a talk show and middle America loved her... you know, before the midwest housewives found out she was a lesbian.
I've often walked by and thought I might try the food, although the prospect of paying $13.50 for a cheeseburger seems a bit over the top. Well those thoughts are no longer a problem.
From the New York Times:
On Thursday night, the bars were surprisingly lively, especially the hush-hush upstairs joint on 46th Street owned and managed by Joe Allen, the restaurateur. Sinatra played, the low lights flattered older women, the veal was said to be delicious. Mr. Allen, fastidious in velvet, sat at a table passing on a story he had heard about the chief carpenter at the Belasco — or maybe it was the Minskoff — who was losing $8,000 a week because of the strike.
“Think about that for a moment,” Mr. Allen said. “Eight thousand a week. Times 52 weeks — or let’s just say he only works 30. That’s a lot of money in the bank.”
Sitting at the bar, an elegant bald man, who had ordered the veal, raised his fork and agreed.
Mr. Allen’s understanding of the situation is that years ago, when Broadway was “smoking,” the producers cut a deal with the stagehands’ union to pad the payroll and thus avoid a strike. Then, in recent years, a younger generation of producer came along, one who no longer wished to tolerate the union man who will sometimes sit, as it is said, on a beach chair in the back of a truck.
“I saw them picketing the other day on 44th Street and thought to myself, ‘That’s the hardest they’ve worked in years,’” Mr. Allen said.
Mr. Allen's "understanding of the situation" is completely false. My understanding of Mr. Allen is that he an elite snob. To think that his man, who probably never worked hard a day in his life, can sit there and exhort the situation of the union laborer while dressed in velvet, sitting in a restaurant that he owns while most likely hiring illegal immigrants at slave wages to work in his kitchen, makes my blood boil.
One can picture the velvet clad highbrow, with a cigar in one hand and a jewel-encrusted goblet in the other, trying to impress those who enter his establishment with his wisdom of how life works.
The unforunate part is that people will read this piece of shit and take it as fact. It's bad enough that the League of American Theaters and Producers are misquoting salaries and contract rules, but now this asshole is actually exaggerating the exaggerated!
Well, fuck you, Mr. Allen. I am making it my mission to see to it that every working man knows how you feel and they'll thank you by never stepping foot in your establishments. I know of at least 3000 union members that would have an opinion of how you perceive them.
Game on, brohim!
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