The Corner

Goulash Capitalism

Plea from a desperate friend over on the Other Coast:  “Derb—Do you know of ANY Hungarian restaurants left in NYC?  I’m in town for a friend’s opening night this weekend…”

[Derb]  Cluelessly out of date as usual, I only have a 2003 Zagat’s to hand, and it lists precisely ONE Hungarian restaurant:  Mocca, up on 2nd Ave. between 82nd and 83rd.  (And this, in a city that–according to Zagat–has FIVE **Irish** restaurants!  How many ways are there to boil potatoes, for crying out loud?) 

No guarantee Mocca’s still there.  2003 was about the last time I visited the place, spent a happy afternoon getting wiped out on Bull’s Blood.  Wonderful food, of course–even the coffee tasted different. 

Now I’m getting a Hungarophilia rush.  ‘Scuse me, gotta go sit in a corner & read John Lujacs’s Budapest 1900.

John Derbyshire — Mr. Derbyshire is a former contributing editor of National Review.
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