The Last Automat
Art Deco relic clings to life in the fast-food age

By David Streitfeld
The Washington Post, Thursday, May 5, 1988

NEW YORK -- You don't have to go to New York's sole surviving automat to eat. You stop by for a slice of the city's history.

Horn & Hardart automats once dominated the metropolis. At their peak, during the 30's and 40's, there were more than three dozen. In 1988, there's less than one.

At 200 E. 42nd St., a couple of blocks from Grand Central Station, Horn & Hardart operates a cafeteria. Along the eastern wall is a gleaming slice of art deco finery. Each tiny window-box is illuminated from within; every piece of food gets a star turn. Slip in a coin, twist the knob and open the glass. It's easier than a microwave and more fun than a Cuisinart.

The automat is now more a display item than a working food service operation, but in its heyday, everyone came. Fast food hadn't yet been invented, and for those traveling with children or who just didn't want to bother with a three-course meal, the automat was the solution: quick, nourishing, inexpensive and fun.

Sometimes, it was very inexpensive. According to legend, indigent students and struggling actors would partake of a Tomato Surprise: hot water, catsup and a dash of pepper. Not too exciting, but all the ingredients were free.

"The Maxim's of the disenfranchised," playwright Neil Simon has labeled it. On Sunday nights during the Depression, his unemployed mother would treat him to dinner. "To have your own stack of nickels placed in your on tiny hands; to be able to choose your own food, richly on display like museum pieces; to make quick and final decisions at the age of 8, was a lesson in financial dealings that not even two years at the Wharton School could buy today," Simon rhapsodized.


CHEAP EATS

Once upon a time, coffee and pie cost a nickel each here. Prices ranged all the way up to a quarter, for roast turkey and dressing. There were 18 kinds of vegetables, baked pork and beans, fishcakes with tomato sauce, pork chops, veal cutlets, beef liver, beef tongue, lamb stew.

Nowadays, several quarters are required get food from some of the automat's windows. For other windows, you need special tokens, which involve a trip to the cashier at the end of the cafeteria line. The tokens are up to 75 cents each, and the variety of food is sharply limited.

On a recent Saturday afternoon, the hot entrees could boast only the legendary baked macaroni and cheese, and tiny fishcake with a bowl of spaghetti, and baked beans with a pathetic hot dog. I didn't have the courage to try any of them.

Equally disappointing, the four dolphin heads -- one each for light, regular and black coffee, and one for iced tea -- were out of commission. Once, to put a coin in the slot, turn the crank and be delivered of steaming, powerful coffee was to know the wonders of technology. Food at the touch of a button! This was indeed a vision of the future, like something out of a sci-fi magazine.

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