Ninety-eight years later, knishes still sell at Yonah Schimmel's.
By VERONICA ZARAGOVIAYonah Schimmel bakery 88 224(photo credit: Veronica Zaragovia)
Yonah Schimmel's bakery has defied the odds by staying in business with the same family for nearly 100 years, and by selling high carbohydrate snacks at a time when most New Yorkers prefer to eat salads.
The store, located on East Houston Street between Forsyth and Eldridge in New York's lower east side, is in a neighborhood that was once a bastion of Jewish life when Schimmel emigrated from Hungary at the turn of the 20th century. He opened his store in 1910.
Today, hipster cafes and clothing boutiques dot the area. One block away, on East Houston Street, a Whole Foods Market looms large. This mecca for gourmet and natural food opened its Bowery store, the largest one in New York City, last year. It spans the entire block and has two floors that include several sit-down dining options.
Yet others prefer the quaint experience at Yonah Schimmel's, where options are limited mostly to knishes, thin pockets of rounded dough stuffed with mashed potato and onions. Plain potato and kasha, made of buckwheat, are the kinds Ashkenazi Jewish women from Eastern Europe baked in their homelands.
Today, people of all ages come in for their high-carb fix. Among them are moviegoers who have increased business at the bakery since the Sunshine Cinemas opened next door in 2001. The owners, however, prefer to remain tight-lipped about exact figures.
Ellen Anistratov, an extended member of the Schimmel family and the bakery's manager and part owner, said the area has changed drastically since she was a child, about 30 years ago. She used to accompany her father to work at the bakery, which used to be surrounded by "junkies" and "hookers." Her father started at the bakery as a busboy in his youth.
Today, employees include the bakers, and usually one person who does a number of jobs at once. When it's not Shabbat, Daniel Upton, 24, an Orthodox Jew, greets customers, deals with take-outs and sit-down orders. He brings out the fresh knishes to the front glass case, which recently tempted Lorna Littner, 61.
"As a child, my parents used to bring me here," Littner said, as she purchased four potato knishes to go. "The others are fabulous, but to me, a knish is a potato knish."
Wendy Frank, 40, also said she used to come as a child. She thinks Yonah Schimmel's has the best knishes in the world, although the jalapeño ones are "wrong," she said, about the newer flavor for untraditional palates.
Sitting at a table, two Italian siblings, Ornella, 27, and Marco Gonzini, 24, said they came to New York for a week and decided to eat there based on a recommendation from their guide book.
Marina Jaffe was working on her laptop as she ate a mushroom knish, an anachronism inside the shop.
"My family immigrated to the United States, and this is the neighborhood they lived in," Jaffe said. "I always had the romance in my mind that my family ate here."
On the walls hang yellowed newspaper clippings and photos of New York at the beginning of the 20th century. They have a collection of signed photographs and postcards. Celebrity clients have included Francis Ford Coppola and Barbra Streisand.
The owners don't spend on renovations. "This is an institution of New York," Anistratov said. "My father used to bring me when I was small - the place still looks the same. It's a landmark."
Nostalgia doesn't hit New Yorkers alone. Yonah Schimmel's ships overnight express across the US for a minimum order of 12 knishes. Each costs between $3 and $3.50.
Last year over the holidays, Anistratov said she received a delivery order to the White House, no less. They ordered a medley - potato, spinach and kasha - 2,000 of them. There's a $40 shipping fee for people who have a delivery account and $80 for those without.
Anistratov said she sells knishes wholesale to Katz's Delicatessen, Whole Foods Market, H&H Bagels and Dean & Deluca, especially during the Jewish holidays, although knish sales spike during all holidays, not just the Jewish ones. "My slogan is one world, one taste, one knish. We all like the same thing if it tastes good."
For its local customers, the bakery has been adjusting flavors, such as pizza or roasted garlic. Pumpkin raisin knishes have been sold in the fall. "Some people like to experiment and some don't," Anistratov said. "It's based on character."
And everyone's paying more for it. The spike in wheat prices affects the prices of knishes. "Every price goes up for us to be here," she said.
Every day they bake 500 to 1,000 knishes, depending on the season and the shipment orders filled out the night before.
What's in the nearly century-old recipe? "If it tastes good," Anistratov said, "that's all that counts."
if(catID != 151){
var cont = `Take Israel home with the new Jerusalem Post Store
