Cappuccino and Nietzsche

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Caffe Reggio, coffee, culture, food, Greenwich Village, history, Manhattan, New York City, travel

There are not many places left in New York City where you can spot writers furiously scribbling in leather-bound notebooks (what, no iPad?!) and reading Nietzsche.

Surprisingly, there still is a cafe where you can delve into the philosophical underpinnings of works like The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Caffe Reggio, open since 1927 in Greenwich Village, continues to be a gathering place for older and younger generations of writers, artists, and philosophers. And the sightings of students reading Nietzsche and Milan Kundera? All were recent.

The round-backed cafe chairs, Caravaggio-style paintings, and soft glow emanating from Caffe Reggio’s chandeliers contribute to the coziness of this cafe; its history is equally as romantic as its atmosphere.

In the early 20th century, an Italian-immigrant barber named Domenic Parisi was beginning to lose his eyesight. Having cut hair for forty years, Parisi took all $1,000 of his life savings and sent for an espresso machine from Italy. America was then introduced to its first espresso and cappuccino in New York City.

Domenico Parisi in 1914. Credit: Caffe Reggio

The espresso machine was a far cry from the more functional machines of today; it was a work of art. The shiny chrome exterior came adorned with dragons around its base and was crowned with a cherub at its top. Indeed, all the spigots, steam valves, and intricate skeleton of pipes made the curious contraption a monster of a machine; the noise made while brewing cappuccino rendered conversation impossible. No one except for Parisi was allowed to touch the machine and when Parisi was sick and bedridden, he simply kept the cafe closed.

The cafe was taken over by new owners Niso and Hilda Cavallaci in 1955; they rented the space for $18 a month (!). Their son, Fabrizio, continued operations in 1978, around the time when the cafe’s espresso machine was converted from coal to gas fuel. The machine is now proudly displayed against the back wall of the cafe.

Hilda Cavallacci in 1961. Credit: Caffe Reggio

Caffe Reggio in 1974. Credit: Caffe Reggio

The cafe also has a light menu of soup, sandwiches, and pastries, but you come for the espresso. The cappuccino is blanketed with a most-delightful layer of foam. Don’t gulp. Sip and linger over its warmth and gaze at the passersby outside the windows. You don’t have to be a starving artist to enjoy being in one of the last vestiges of old-school Italian coffeehouses in New York City.

Cold Cream and Mustache Combs

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beauty, Clarence Otis Bigelow, culture, Greenwich Village, history, Manhattan, New York City, travel

Washington Square Park

Winter is barely half over in New York, and the dryness of the air along with cold temperatures has people religiously dabbing lip salve and slathering emollient creams onto face, hands, and the bottoms of their feet.

Rather than trekking into the likes of Duane Reade or Walgreens, history walkers who find themselves inside C.O. Bigelow Apothecaries are treated not only to one-of-a-kind personal care products, but a shopping experience that transports you back to a time when the neighborhood chemist diagnosed ailments and prescribed homeopathic remedies for fevers and pains.

The store still has its original oak cabinets and Gothic-style chandeliers from 1902.

Touted as the oldest apothecary in America, Dr. Galen Hunter founded The Village Apothecary Shop in Greenwich Village in 1838. During that same year, Rose Wonder Cold Cream was formulated by Hunter as a cleanser, makeup remover, and moisturizer. In 1880, Clarence Otis Bigelow, an employee of the shop, took over proprietorship, re-named the shop, and moved to its current location a few doors down on Sixth Avenue in a newly-designed brick-and-limestone Romanesque Revival building. Bigelow was not only a chemist, he was one of the founders of West Side Savings Bank and held memberships in social organizations like the Salmagundi Club and the Sons of the Revolution. He lived on the Upper West Side and owned a summer home in Allendale, New Jersey.

Photo of Clarence Otis Bigelow. Credit: New York Herald Tribune, 1937.

An early photo of C.O. Bigelow Apothecaries' original location from the pharmacy's archives.

In the 1920s, a soda fountain was added to the premises, in keeping with many pharmacies at that time. A hack stand was located outside of the building for cabbies who would take lunch breaks at the counter, which was removed in 1984 during renovations. The store boasts Gothic-style chandeliers and its original gaslights that have since been electrified; the gas can still be turned on and kept business running during the blackouts of 1965 and 1977.

A chandelier hangs near the mezzanine level fenced in by an ornate railing.

Relics from the apothecary's early days.

Among its famous customers, Samuel Clemens, aka Mark Twain was known to have paid his bills promptly; his name can be seen in the ledger that is sometimes on display in the store. Thomas Edison reputedly patronized the apothecary when he needed salve for his finger, burned from tinkering with his invention called the light bulb. The store carries a variety of brands, from everyday lotions like Lubriderm to unique beauty items that cannot be found in a typical chain store.

Old-fashioned bar shampoo

#88 is a swell-looking mustache comb.

Who remembers Jean Naté? This brand was actually launched in 1935 by a cosmetics company called Charles of the Ritz.

A famed feline personality associated with C.O. Bigelow was Rex, or “Mr. Bigelow”, a cat who was in-residence for over fifteen years. People would drop in to give Mr. Bigelow home-cooked chicken and deli meat, which explained his heavy eighteen-pound frame. Mr. Bigelow liked to lick the store windows, sometimes for forty minutes straight, and was not a big mouse-chaser. He did love children and would jump into customers’ laps if he took a liking to them. Mr. Bigelow was so renowned a New York Times obituary was written after his death.

Credit: The Villager, August 2007.

The apothecary is now owned by Ian Ginsburg; his grandfather, William, bought the store in 1939 and William’s son, Jerry, took over in the 1950s. In response to the arrivals of big drugstore chains like Duane Reade, Ginsburg began to market the C.O. Bigelow name on the Internet and brokered deals to distribute its products through companies like Limited Brands and Bath and Body Works. Much like Bigelow himself, Ginsburg has become quite the New York socialite, lending the Bigelow name and its resources to support causes such as breast cancer research.