Will Graydon Carter buy Elaine's? What beef do The Lion partners have with Dan Abrams and David Zinczenko? And is having a bar close to home bad for your stoop's hygiene? Find out answers to these questions and more in today's nightlife round-up.
"Graydon is interested in Elaine's. The cocktail chatter making the rounds of the Second Ave. saloon founded by the late, great patron saint of media mongers, Elaine Kaufman, is that Vanity Fair editor Graydon Carter and restaurateur Ken Aretsky are interested in taking over and continuing the legacy of the almost 50-year-old destination.
Or at least they were."
The reports are proliferating, it seems like that ship may have sailed.
"Elaine's tireless manager, Diane Becker, who was bequeathed the restaurant in Kaufman's will, tells us the story is 'old news.' Becker says Carter, a co-owner of Waverly Inn (described as a younger, downtown Elaine's) and Monkey Bar, and the dapper Aretsky, who has run the stylish Aretsky's Patroon on E. 46th St. for 15 years, had 'made overtures' to Kaufman."
Could the Upper East Side literary bastion catch some hip swagger from the Gray-dog?
"The cubs are pawing each other over at the Lion. As the West Village spot bids to pick up the mantle of Waverly Inn, several stakeholders are distancing themselves and the restaurant from its two most conspicuous investors, Dan Abrams and Dave Zinczenko. recruited by partners casting about for their requisite media maven-as-restaurateur (a role perfected by Graydon Carter), Mr. Abrams and Mr. Zinczenko appeared to have signed on with a mandate to wrangle celebrities and industry moguls--whatever brought buzz to the Lion. It seemed a perfect fit: a former MSNBC anchor, Mr. Abrams is the silver-flecked founder of the Mediaite blog network, and Mr. Zinczenko is the editor and television ambassador of Men's Health. But a New York Times profile last December painted the pair as hapless strivers...And then there was the photograph accompanying the story--Mr. Abrams and Mr. Zinczenko outside the Lion, which a caption termed "their restaurant."
Partners are none too happy.
'We told them not to do that again,' said John Codling, an investor and artists, one of whose paintings hangs in the restaurant. 'Now we don't even take their reservations; they're banned.' Another investor wrote in an email to The Observer that until recently, the two had been cut off due to press they went ahead with, unauthorized."
3. A Correlation Between Nightlife Hotspots And Public Puking/Urination [Bowery Boogie]
"One Boogie reader is having such problems with Fontana's at 105 Eldrige Street, and is at wit's end. Our tipster sent the following letter and photo evidence:
I was wondering if you guys/gals have any comments or advice to this annoyance I am having with customers of Fontana's Bar. I am a resident who lives in the building next door to Fontana's. Ever since the bar opened, my building has become a public restroom for their clients. This has died down compared to the first few years it opened. Unfortunately, there are still people peeing, loitering...and vomiting at the front door."
A scientific correlation between vile micturition and alcoholic consumption has been proven , indeed.
4. Male Models Put Up Their Dukes [NYM]
New York Magazine has its own article on the underground fight club circuit in New York.
"In a large room on the second floor of a nondescript building in Chinatown late last month, a fight is about to go down. The space is dark and cavernous, the air thick with smoke and sweat. The light about the ring glances off the golden dragons and the dimmed, chintzy chandeliers and catches the inner scrum of a crowd of 700 screaming, seething spectators who've each paid their $20 to see blood. There's a ref with a shaved head and a tatted-up doctor on-site, but the fights are unlicensed. And they can get ugly. Legiit, one of the fights, arrives with a group of guys who look like they know how to rumble. He climbs up onto the makeshift plywood ring, gloves on, mouthpiece in, ready to battle Luke Todd, one of the boys from the gang of leathered-up, long-haired Brooklyn rockers who call themselves Big Gunz. The fighters touch gloves, flex muscles, then collide in a burst of concentrated fury."
The piece is a wild ride that takes you inside the world of pretty boy models who fight.
"I was swept to The Box for its 4th anniversary. The dapper, debonair door principal (and all around nice guy), Giza (Gizaselimi), kindly invited me down, and as I have always depended on the kindness of gentlemen, I decided to go. All the Boxers were there: Simon Hammerstein, Serge Becker, the Jakupi brothers (Genc and Binn), and all the bells and whistle blowers that have made the joint famous and infamous. the stage was a-flutter with guys, gals, and those where gender doesn't matter, performing their hearts out. Then the Scissor Sisters came out and raised the ante. 4 years ago, The Box raised the ante, and last night it was undeniable. One of the best rooms in the city: it is amazing when it is amazing. A smart guy with a funny hat whispered in my ear, 'It ain't what it used to be.' I told him neither was he. 4 years in clubland is like 15 in dog years--100 in human years. Too few joints can boast relevancy after even 2. Sure, there have been ups and downs, and scandals, and madness. But it's a club, not a boutique."