SPECIAL EDITION: Elegy for an Old Friend: Coogan’s. and Peter Walsh

In memory of Peter Walsh, restaurant owner, New Yorker, lover of Irish literature, singer, husband, father, grandfather, and father who died earlier this week. He and Jim Dwyer, a Coogan’s regular, will be raising a glass or two.

“There are no strangers here. Only friends you haven’t met yet.” William Butler Yeats

When Coogan’s opened its doors in 1985, its first customer, or maybe its second, wandered in, took a look around, and never left. Its unpretentious wooden tables and wallpaper of photographs of politicians, police officers, actors, and neighborhood locals; a stalwart menu of Irish fare including French crepes, matzoh ball soup, and the world’s smallest sundae named after Olympic champion runner Eamonn Coughlin who was tall and fast; and three genial owners who, in the grand Irish tradition of never having met a stranger, welcomed him into their household, and he was home. Whether Steve Simon was the first or second customer has been debated for 35 years and will be debated for many more to come. But one thing is certain: he was their final customer, arriving on March 16, 2020 in time to beat the 8 pm citywide mandated restaurant closing, and ate the last supper before the coronavirus ended Coogan’s’ illustrious run.

Read more on my Substack at Pastrami a go-go and other wry tales of the city by clicking here.