mitch, do you feel my pain?
Death of a deli: Rascal House closing for good
BY ANDRES AMERIKANER
Hold the schmaltz: Another piece of Northeast Miami-Dade's fading history is slipping away.
For a cast of Rascal House regulars, the end will come Sunday night, when the hallowed deli in Sunny Isles Beach closes its doors for good. Gone will be the red vinyl booths, the fabled corned beef sandwiches and stuffed cabbage, the cartoonish devil smiling impishly above the tattered green awning.
Rising in its place will be an Epicure gourmet market, which the restaurant's owners believe will better cater to the residents of the new Northeast Miami-Dade, with its luxury hotels and canyons of high-rise condos.
''I guess this is progress,'' said 66-year-old Sibil Weinstein, who rides the bus from Miami Beach twice a week for breakfast. ``That's the way life is, right?''
The last of the old-school New York-style delis, specializing in hearty Jewish fare, was built by Wolfie Cohen in 1954. A seemingly eternal staple at Collins Avenue and 172nd Street -- outliving legendary delis like Pumperniks, Wolfie's and Corky's -- it thrived for decades. Hungry diners lined up around the building, recalled Michael Scheck, 69, an Aventura retiree who first visited the restaurant in 1956, when he was 17.
''You couldn't get in, you had to wait,'' Scheck said. ``I was told this was the busiest restaurant in the world.''
Busy it was, and for good reason. It wasn't just the oversize portions, the no-nonsense waitresses or the comforting ambience, like the framed poster of Jackie Gleason, the fading black-and-white photos of the beach and the wooden counter where familiar faces gathered day after day. What most diners yearned for were the heaps of food that were handed out with every meal: rolls, pickles, muffins -- and, in years past -- coffee cakes and an assortment of pastries, including five different types of danishes.
Visitors included celebrities like Clark Gable and Judy Garland. The restaurant's lure continued through the years. Last January, for example, Rudy Giuliani stopped by for a cup of coffee and some cereal as part of his unsuccessful presidential bid.
In 1996, Cohen sold his restaurant to the Starkman family -- father Isaac and brothers Guy and Jason -- which runs Jerry's Famous Deli. The Los Angeles-based company was looking to expand after going public, and the Rascal House was a good fit, Jason Starkman said.
''Wolfie created something really special here,'' Starkman said. ``We never bought this place with an intention to ever shut it down.''
But things are different now. A combination of the changing demographics of the area -- younger residents, more South American and European tourists -- and an upscale development boom in the city and neighboring Aventura started to cut down on demand.
Prices climbed and the baskets of free baked goods got more meager, said Micah Goldstein, 45, the youngest face among the breakfast regulars.
''Man, oh man,'' remembers Goldstein, a children's entertainer from Miami Beach known to the other habitués as Ziggy. ``That's when you knew the end was coming.''
In late 2006, the Starkmans revealed a plan to turn the restaurant into a 15-story tower that would include an Epicure Market, office space and condos. Since then, the housing market slowdown has forced them to scrap everything but the Epicure. Condos are still a possibility down the road.
The restaurant will be gutted, but the Epicure will keep the original kitchen and a few of the beloved recipes. It also will retain 35 of the restaurant's 100 employees, who were offered the opportunity to stay with Epicure or relocate to Jerry's Famous Deli in Miami Beach.
Most of the Rascal House décor will go to the city of Sunny Isles Beach, which has taken to preserving the vestiges of its old identity. Some special requests will be honored, like the group of longtime diners who asked Starkman to carve out their corner booth.
Countless groups of friends have met at the restaurant through the years. Scheck, for example, regularly eats with Norman Lipoff, 71, of Coconut Grove and Kenny Schwartz, 81, of Hollywood. They ride their bicycles and meet at 9:30 a.m. sharp. Lipoff loves the lox, eggs and onion; Schwartz sticks to the oatmeal. Scheck says he has a weakness for the cheesecake.
''It's not going to be easy to replace this,'' said Lipoff, who has been eating at the restaurant for more than 30 years.
Since 1954, the restaurant estimates it has sold about 60 million meals, including 12 million corned beef sandwiches and 6.7 million pieces of stuffed cabbage. Prices have more than kept up with the times. In 1973, a corned beef sandwich ran for $1.95. Today it costs $14.75. Even so, the restaurant barely breaks even, Starkman said.
The new Epicure will be ready by early September, Starkman said. Parking spots out front will be converted into a patio for outdoor eating, with 40 tables. The 25,000-square-foot interior may include a small cafe or breakfast spot sporting the Rascal House name, but certainly not a full-scale restaurant. The company also owns the Wolfie's and Pumperniks brands, and may one day reopen one of those delis, he said.
''The property itself will go through a pause, but the heart will keep beating,'' Starkman said.
Many lives will be changed by the closing, but perhaps none as much as Lorraine Willow's. Willow, 53, is a white-haired, tough-as-nails waitress who has served at the restaurant for 22 years.
She met her husband at Rascal House. She has memorized everyone's name and preferences. George Melnick, she said, is not supposed to eat eggs, but he tries to order them every now and then. She knows which of her customers will, come Monday morning, stay home and cook for themselves.
But ask her how she feels about the restaurant closing and the regulars moving on, and she's at a loss. Her eyes well up with tears as she covers her face and walks away.
Then she's back, composed. She has an answer.
''They'll still remember me, and that's what counts,'' she said.