The Edison Cafe is the comfy and reasonable glorified diner on 47th Street which is so famous that Neil Simon wrote a play about it and it even has a nickname. (The Polish Tea Room.) The food was never anything to brag about–in fact, it’s the only place on earth where I ever sent back a meal–but it was serviceable and you could always get a table (for obvious reasons).
Well, now it’s kaput–for a while, anyway. A window note from the management says “Due to total loss of refrigeration, we are currently doing repairs. Hope to reopen soon.” But even more visible signs blare, “CLOSED by order of the Commissioner of Health and Mental Hygiene.”
Hmm. I knew bad refrigeration could make you sick, but I didn’t know it could also make you crazy.