Eatsa went out of business…
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Soundtrack for this page: Concerto for Horn and Hardart by PDQ Bach.
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We really should bring Automats back here in Germany. There would definitively be a market for them in the big cities.
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I went a few times. They had some tasty dumplings that were great after a night a the club.
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My parents took me to the '64 World’s Fair as well - I wonder if we saw each other?! My grandparents lived on Staten Island, so we’d go visit them once or twice a year, and go into the city for sight-seeing and shopping. I vaguely remember the Automat, although my mother told me once that we used to eat there every trip. The food I remember well were the soft pretzels on the Staten Island ferry, and the hot dogs at the World’s Fair, sold out of those white bubble top stands. That, and my Grandfather telling me he owned the Verrazano-Narrows bridge, and that if I was a good boy he’d give it to me when I grew up …
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“Remember the Automat!”
A battle cry from a more interesting version of history.
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There it is! wow. It’s actually nicer looking than I remember. I don’t think I realized at the time lobster mac & cheese kroket was an option, but then I grew up in Maine, where lobster rolls at McDonalds are a seasonal event. Between the classic throwback look and the very 2005 exclamation point name and curly-bracket copy, this is a double stuffed time capsule.
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I’ve had an alternate version of Kraftwerk in my head for two days now, singing “Fun, fun, fun at the Automat”
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Yes, some of the key skirmishes were caught on film…
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My first thought “Hey, I’ve eaten there when family with kids visited. What was the name of that restaurant again?” A quick Google brought forth a staggering number of such restaurants! Who knew? (I think it was one of the 2Toots Train Whistle Grill.)
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Well … “quinoa and greens.” No wonder.
Just kidding. I love quinoa and greens. Perhaps for an automat style restaurant to work, it needs to be a bit gimmicky. Either look like an old timey automat, or perhaps like the shiny 1950s future we never got. Eatsa looked a little too boring and antiseptic. It needed an infusion of quirky charm.
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Yeah, ours was named “Casey Jones Junction”, a rather troubling moniker…
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A gravy train, high on cocaine
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I mean, even from accounts of his final trip, he seems to have been a real adrenaline junkie.
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