Harry's New York Bar: "Sank Roo Doe Noo," Paris

(You just may meet Arnie Greenberg, above, at Harry's in Paris. Ask for "Sank Roo Doe Noo," and the cabbie will know where to take you).

By Arnie Greenberg, ultours@gmail.com

For many, it's something out of the past. For others, it's nostalgia, and for some, it's something new.

But Harry's Bar in Paris or Florence, Venice, or anywhere is a welcome haven for North Americans seeking a touch of 'home.' You may have your favorite, but mine is the original Harry's in Paris at 5 rue Daunou in the Opera district between the rue de la Paix and the avenue de l'Opéra.

Where They Served the First Hot Dog

It may not be nostalgia to you, but I think it's important to remember the place where the first hot dog in France was served in 1925.

Drinking at the long bar in this paneled reminder of home was good enough for Hemingway, Jack Dempsey, Primo Carnera, Bill Tilden, Sinclair Lewis, Ramon Novarro, and Knute Rockne.

What they drank could be found nowhere else. It was here that drinks like the Bloody Mary were born in 1921, followed closely by the Side Car and White Lady. Even the bartenders were famous here.

The start of the Harry's tradition goes back to 1923, when a Scott named Harry MacElhone, fresh from a stint as bartender at Ciro's Club in London, took over what was known as the New York Bar in Paris.

(Harry's in Paris, a favorite of American expats)

It had been made up of the old bar and wood paneling shipped from New York. That paneling is still there and gives the place a dark, almost dingy appearance. But the traditional old college pennants we all had hanging in our bedrooms or fraternity houses, years ago, created a typically American décor.

Home Away from Home for American Expats

It was just a natural place for the hundreds of American expatriates to flock to during the Roaring Twenties and afterwards. Of course, it's what went on at Harry's that was important.

You could meet friends from home or stare at the future stars of writing and entertainment, and you could sample Harry's new concoctions, which he served up to the willing drinkers of Prohibition years. Harry's bar boasted new drinks like the Blue Lagoon, The Zombie, Morning glory Fizz, Harry's Pick-Me-Up, Black Mischief or El Diablo, all of which are foreign to me.

In later years, Harry's generated drinks named for famous visitors, like a Boris Becker, James Bond Cocktail, Prince of Wales Cocktail, or even a Queen Mary Cocktail. At least 40 new drinks were invented there.

It made headlines when the Chicago Tribune announced the popularity of the "Scoff-Law Cocktail," which was popular with the American Prohibition dodgers in Paris at the time.

But aside from the décor and the drinks or the habitual visitors, every night was a happening. Imagine the excitement when George Gershwin sat at the downstairs piano and pounded out tunes from his latest offering, "Porgy and Bess."

Imagine the stir when the Duke of Windsor arrived for a drink with friends. Picture the then famous Dolly sisters parading their hats. I would have loved to see Hemingway come in after a sparring match at the Montmartre Sportif with Harry as his 'towel holder.'

And I would have enjoyed it more if he came in after the smaller but more experienced Canadian writer Morley Callaghan had knocked him down.

What Did Gene Kelly Drink?

I wonder what drinks were served to Jean-Paul Sartre or Simone de Beauvoir, Gene Kelly, Glenn Ford, Marlene Dietrich, Noel Coward or Brendan Behan.

By 1924, Harry's had created the International Bar Flies, 'a secret fraternal organization devoted to the uplift and downfall of serious drinkers.' Its insignia showed a fly on a cube of sugar. There was also a secret handshake for members. There are well over 125 Fly Traps (as they called the groups) in countries like Germany, Austria, Switzerland, England, and Italy.

Harry passed away in June 1958. Tributes poured in, and it is said that the editorial of the New York Herald Tribune was 'most moving.'
There was a Harry's in Munich, and one in Berlin, Montreux, Hanover Venice and Florence.

Munching on a North American Club Sandwich

I visit the Paris location often. I munch on a typically North American club sandwich washed down with a "Bud." I scan the walls for my alma mater. I find it, smile, and know that I will be back.

It's a lot quieter these days…or perhaps I just don't recognize the literati around me. I smile when I think of those 1920's Americans, who spoke no French, were told by their friends to tell their taxi-driver to take them to "Sank Roo Doo Noo".

Bars and fashion come and go, but Harry's lives, especially in Paris.

Note: Years ago, a tradition started when in California, a group offered a prize to the person who could imitate 'bad Hemingway'.

Entries were received from all over the world by telegram or mail. One was written on a napkin. It was all for a free dinner at Harry's in Florence. A book was published of the best and worst selections. What an irony that the first winner of this contest was a woman (Patricia Traxler).

What would the macho Hemingway have thought of that?

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