V. Fiore’s Deli

This building has been fallow for years. It was an upscale pizza joint, Lombardi’s or something, I can’t remember exactly. Not bad but nothing special. Construction resumed a few weeks ago, progress has been made, big letters on the roof Studio 17, another hair salon. I wish it well. It’s on a peninsula type street, Monmouth, Newark, First. As part of the construction they removed the yellow exterior revealing the colors of the Italian flag, red, white and green, thus revealing the gone but not forgotten original establishment, Fiore’s Deli.

I caught the tail end of their multi-decade reign when I first came to town in the early 90s. I guess now only the bakery on Newark is the last vestige of Italian Village, as old time locals like to call the western side of Downtown near the Heights borderlands. It was only open for lunch; not on Sundays. It was legendary for the quality of its food, simply one of the great Italian delis ever, with the salami, pepperoni, capicolla, and provolone hanging down like delectable stalactites. Fresh fish fillet sandwiches every Friday (or was that only during Lent).

For a few years, during the height of my freelancing period where I was working mainly out of the apartment, I went their weekly. It was around the time the Internet first dawned in a serious way. I had written an articles, actually wrote a coupla three like that, which include a history and glossary of terms like browser and newsgroup. Believe or not, people expected big things back then from the Information Super Highway. Anyway I gave one of the guys (for some reason, only guys worked there) to give to his son who was studying computers. It was still family owned, and there was a location in Hoboken. They were very Italian, gesticulated when they talked but sincerely warm and welcoming and going there was a always fun and enjoyable.

And the food was simply awesome. They had these rolls, man oh man, Italian Break perfection, and fresh mozzarella as creamy as fresh churned butter. The taste buds of my memory can recall the smoked turkey with fresh mozzarella and sun direct tomatoes, drippy with olive oil. The epitome of the ideal lunch.

The born and bred Jersey City folks, talk to them about Fiore’s, they can get weepy.

Seeing the old exterior, chipped, in pieces, back for a while during this rehabilitation phase was a nice reminder and obviously a brief one. Memories I hadn’t thought about for years came flooding back. There are plenty of places in town where you can get a decent sandwich; there are no places where you can get a great sandwich. There is no place like Fiore’s here or in Hoboken and even in New York, nothing like the quality. The family was still running the place when I ate there, had an interest. Seeing the old exterior exposed again, after more than a decade was a unique experience in and of itself, sort of like Charlton Heston seeing the Statue of Liberty head on the beach at the end of Planet of the Apes.

Even then, then being when I first discovered Fiore’s, it had a faux old fashion look, a little corny, almost like somebody’s fantasy of what an Italian Deli should look , but inside was it was genuine. I don’t know what generation of Fiore’s gave up the ghost, why they never expended, extended their hours. The foodie culture, like the Internet, was growing and back then it was so obvious and Fiore’s seemed like such a natural fit, but it was not to be. In fact, I remember the selections getting narrower, one of the guys died. You know you’re in trouble when the beverage refrigerator hasn’t been restocked. But it was part of the city, well since 1912 according to the sign on the wall.

Nothing lasts… if only chipped paint could talk… pretty awesome this echo from the past. I wonder what happened to those guys, that fresh mozzarella, the sundried tomatoes all drippy with olive oil….