Shelly Fireman, a restaurateur who decades ago believed in retro, called Alexis Reyes in the early 1990s and offered him a job. The problem was that Reyes already had a good gig as the manager of Sarabeth’s, a successful restaurant on the Upper West Side.
Fireman, though, had an idea.
“He said we are going to be the finer diner, not a finer diner,” Reyes said. “He said that to me from the beginning.”
Then Fireman told him he wanted to call it the “Brooklyn Diner.” It would evoke all sorts of memories of Brooklyn, from Ebbets Field to Coney Island.
“I said to him, you’re from the Bronx. I was born in the Bronx. He said, ‘But you live in Brooklyn now.’ I used to spend summers with my godfather in Brooklyn. I loved Brooklyn,” Reyes said. “He was fascinated with Brooklyn. He had a love story with Brooklyn.”
Stephanie Holmes, director of guest experience for the Fireman Hospitality Group, said Fireman grew up in the Bronx and had many stories about it, but believed Brooklyn had a universal appeal.
“He said in an interview that Brooklyn is for everybody,” Holmes said. “The Brooklyn Diner seemed like a welcoming, open, accepting restaurant. You walk in and you’re immediately in Brooklyn.”
Fireman loved the Dodgers and believed Brooklyn could serve as the basis for a brand.
“He loved Brooklyn and he knew I loved Brooklyn,” Reyes said. “He said this is the Brooklyn Diner. Everybody wants to be from Brooklyn. I said Brooklyn is the 51st state.”
A memorial with a menu
Fireman died recently, leaving behind family, friends, his company and a legacy of restaurants, including the original Brooklyn Diner, neon and all, at 212 W. 57th St.
Ben Grossman, who was named chief strategy officer a few years ago, is CEO of the Fireman Hospitality Group, which includes a small empire of eateries.
“He is definitely here with us every day in spirit. He came into the office almost every day until the very end,” Holmes said of Fireman. “He passed away in his early 90s in November. He was dedicated to his company. His office was above the Brooklyn Diner. He could look down at the guests standing outside waiting for their tables to be called.”
Fireman first opened The Hip Bagel in Greenwich Village in 1963, when bagels were still a novelty. The closet-sized eatery appeared in Woody Allen’s “Play It Again, Sam.”
He saved up and, in 1974, opened Café Fiorello across from Lincoln Center, assembling a collection of eateries that leaned heavily on the Brooklyn brand. Fireman’s food empire included two Brooklyn Diners, two Brooklyn Delis, Trattoria Del Arte, the Red Eye Grill, Bond 45 in Times Square, and Café Paradiso across from Café Fiorello.
That’s in addition to Café Fiorello in Washington, D.C., and Fiorella Italian Kitchen and Pizzeria in National Harbor, Maryland, as well as the Paris Bar inside the Le Méridien hotel.
“He named Cafe Fiorello after Fiorello LaGuardia,” Holmes said. “He’s half Jewish and half Italian. That’s part of our brand.”
The Brooklyn Diner is near Central Park and Carnegie Hall, and all of the group’s restaurants are near signature venues, such as Fiorello’s across from Lincoln Center.
“We’re definitely nostalgic,” Holmes said. “We lean into retro and comfort and we make you feel homey like you’re at home.”
From the beginning
Reyes first worked for Fireman at Fiorello’s, near Lincoln Center, starting as a dishwasher, then a busser, and eventually rising to manager. He left to pursue a career as a performer, singing in jazz clubs and touring with musicals.
Fireman visited him at Sarabeth’s in 1994 and asked him to “come home” and work for him again.
“He said, ‘I have something for you where you can really use your talents and become a star,” Reyes said. “He spoke like he was an MGM producer, an impresario. That was his character.”
Fireman sent him to Fiorello’s to train before they opened the Brooklyn Diner, where he became the first manager.
They were across from the music-themed Hard Rock Café and the movie-themed Planet Hollywood. “He said, ‘The theme of my restaurant is food, the most diverse food in the city,” Reyes said, although it clearly also was Brooklyn.
They gave away free food for five days, winning over customers for life.
“Whoever showed up the first five days kept coming,” Reyes said. “I had the same guests for years, until they passed away or moved.”
“Paul McCartney used to come in, sit with me at the last table and take pictures,” Holmes said. “He would get up and play the harmonica if a baby was crying. People would say, ‘Was that Paul McCartney playing the harmonica?’”
Celebrities still come in, including Jerry Seinfeld and Colin Quinn, although Seinfeld never filmed his podcast there. “He had that show where he was going to restaurants,” Reyes said. “He didn’t come to ours with that, because we’re his private little gem.”
The diner gets many things right with its love of Brooklyn, baseball, the boardwalk and the beach, but its Ebbets Field mural has an error.
“I to this day think he intentionally did it incorrectly,” Reyes said. “The right side is not correct. People have debates.”
Reyes, 72, comes in three days a week as “manager emeritus,” traveling back and forth from Brooklyn to the Brooklyn Diner.
They still serve pastrami hash, chicken pot pie, matzoh ball soup, foot-long hot dogs, egg creams, root beer floats and milkshakes.
“That chicken soup and matzoh ball soup has not been touched,” Reyes told Brooklyn Paper. “People come in and say the kugel’s like my grandmother’s. I say, ‘Your grandmother couldn’t afford to make this kugel with these ingredients.’”
Holmes said Fireman dreamed of Brooklyn diners across the nation and the world.
“He thought Brooklyn was everybody,” she said.
A Brooklyn Diner recently opened at LaGuardia Airport, although Holmes said the Fireman Group does not operate that location.
Fireman continued working nearly until his death, enjoying the piece of Brooklyn he built in the middle of Manhattan.
“I saw him the week before he died. The patio was open. I sat with him. He was asking me about people coming in and what they liked,” Reyes said. “People talk about how eccentric he was. That’s probably true, but there was genius to him. Look at what he created. At our worst moment, we sparkled.”
Holmes, who works above the Brooklyn Diner, sees people’s faces light up when they see its neon façade.
“Every day I see people taking selfies outside the Brooklyn Diner,” she said. “Everybody wants to get their photo taken inside of it.”
People sometimes recognize Reyes as a minor celebrity.
“People stop me on the street and say, ‘Aren’t you that guy from the diner?’” he said. “They say, ‘Can we take a picture with you.’”
Sometimes they take pictures with him at the diner. Other times, he heads home on the F train to the real Brooklyn, while visitors continue snapping photos at the Brooklyn Diner, where Shelly Fireman’s dream lives on — as new, neon and fresh as it was decades ago.
