Not Quite Authentic, But Wonderful Nevertheless

It's called Bamn! It's not quite a Horn & Hardart Automat, even though it tries. The color scheme is a glowing amalgamation of magenta and hot pink. The tiny space is standing room only, with no place to sit and loiter away an afternoon over a cup of coffee—Starbucks has, to its credit, taken on that role in our society. It's in the East Village, only recently gentrified to a point that a gent with a pocket full of jingling coins could walk down the block without being hit on the head and robbed of them. Still, it is a little like an automat of old, and that's a thrill to those of us who used to patronize them.

In case you're wondering what the word automat means, it's in the dictionary. Here's how mine defines it: "A restaurant in which the customers obtain food from closed compartments by depositing coins therein."

Once automats were all over New York. They were huge and shiny, and any kid who got to go to one had about as much fun as kids could have where food was concerned. We had a different lifestyle back then—meals were under the supervision of mothers, not television commercials. Most of what I remember about my visits to Horn & Hardart Automats was getting a bunch of nickels from the cashiers—they were nicknamed "nickel throwers"—and heading straight for the little windows that dispensed baked beans. I sure loved those beans, probably because cowboys ate them around campfires.

Bamn! takes quarters. It offers only a few dishes, and other than the hot dogs and possibly the grilled cheese, I'm pretty sure none were available in the old days. Not the chicken wings, the teriyaki burgers, the roast pork buns, the Japanese donuts, the pizza dumplings, the peanut butter & jelly croquettes, or the mozzarella sticks. Surely not the spam sushi. Everything goes for $1.00-$2.00. I tried everything and liked the pork bun best.

As the world has moved toward self-service—grocery stores, gas stations—the food world has gone in the opposite direction. Everything is handed to you. Taking whatever food I wanted was the most satisfying aspect of an automat meal. If I had tried that at home, I would have gotten my hand slapped.