Nicholas Gray, founder of storefront hot dog stand Grey’s Papaya, has won over young and old, the rich and the poor through the quirkiness of his cuisine, competitive prices, clever slogans, and apparent constancy. The beloved New Yorker died Friday in a Manhattan hospital. he was 86 years old.
According to her daughter Natasha Gray, the cause was a complication of Alzheimer’s disease.
Rye pastrami, bagels, and lox, to name two classic New York food pairings, have some kind of self-explanatory logic. Gray’s Papaya’s specialties, papaya juice and hot dogs, on the contrary, appear to be favorites of separate and possibly conflicting socio-cultural groups.
But this odd couple has earned a place in their local restaurant akin to The Original Ray’s Pizza. In addition to Gray’s Papaya on Manhattan’s Upper West Side and Papaya King on the Upper East Side (primary suppliers), the New York facility selling hot dogs and papaya juice includes 14th Street Papaya, Chelsea Papaya, and Empire Papaya. , Papaya International, Papaya included. World, Papaya World II, Papaya Heaven, Papaya Paradise.
By most accounts, the combination’s origins lie in the 1930s, when New York deli proprietor Constantine Poros, a fan of tropical vacations, began selling exotic-looking fruit juices. (Someone explained In later years, he added hot dogs to the menu and crowned his Upper East Side storefront Papaya King.
One day in 1973, Mr. Gray, a recently divorced Wall Street stockbroker and dissatisfied with his job, was passing Papaya King on East 86th and Third Avenues when he saw the combination of papaya and Frankfurt. was not yet a big local phenomenon.
It was full of happy people. The tropical juice reminded him of his native Chile. Bright neon signs and hot dogs spoke to his love of Americana.
He quit his job, signed a franchise deal with Papaya King, and opened stores on 72nd Street and Broadway on the Upper West Side. Two years later he went independent and named his own restaurant ‘Grey’s Papaya’.
Soon, his imitations themselves began to be shot down.
Subspecies tend to share essential traits. Like Italian espresso bars, Papaya Shop has no seating. You stand and chew. In the milder months, the doors are always open and you can hear the breeze and the honking of cars, as if the restaurant were an extension of the sidewalk. Hot dogs are cooked on a griddle rather than in the so-called cesspool of a hot dog cart. And while papaya drinks are often characterized by a chalky flavor, they don’t have much of a papaya flavor and have a soft papaya ring to them.
If the Papaya King had Yankees heritage and brand recognition, Gray’s Papaya was a humble expansion team called the Mets. It has become an after-school snack, a pre-show snack at Lincoln Center, an on-the-go meal at work, and a reward after playing in Central Park.
The store announced its opening with the good news that a Hot Dog Hui Polli was priced at 50 cents compared to 75 cents for a Papaya King (the price remained at 50 cents until 1999). In 1982, Mr. Gray began offering what he called the “Recession Special,” two dogs and a glass of tropical juice for $1.95. Having survived several recessions, this bargain is currently trading at $6.45.
He hated raising prices. “It’s always been a huge trauma for me and my clients,” he told The New York Times in 2008. He once put up a sign that read: Unlike politicians, we cannot raise the debt ceiling and are forced to raise very reasonable prices. don’t hate us “
That sign and many others gave the restaurant a fanciful yet assertive feel. Upon opening, Mr. Gray held up his self-made sign proclaiming “Hot Dog Revolution!” The storefront promises that “No one can offer a better Frankfurter than anyone else” and “No gimmicks!” Not a bull! A sign inside indicates that the papaya is “the aristocratic melon of the tropics.”
There was a billboard showing Mr. Gray’s political views. When Bill Clinton faced impeachment in 1998, someone encouraged him, saying, “Good luck, President.” In 2007, Mr. Gray promised that if he ran for president next year and Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg won, he would “offer free hot dogs on Inauguration Day.” Mr. Gray’s public position, even with his opinions, has been consistently positive. At Gray’s Papaya, he sold buttons that read “Polite New Yorkers.”
Decades later, Grey’s Papaya has become a household name in New York City.
“Rent stability was, like Grey’s papaya, an unforgettable part of New York life,” says Nora Ephron. I have written It was published in The New Yorker magazine in 2006. “It will never be tampered with.”
Nicholas Alexander Buchanan Gray Anguita was born on January 17, 1937 in Valparaiso, Chile. His father, Alexander, was a British bank manager sent abroad by his employer. His mother, Nieves (Anguita) Gray, was a native Chilean housewife.
Nick attended Sherborne School in South West England, and after graduating, washed dishes at a radar station in the Arctic to pay for college.
While attending McGill University in Montreal, he met Syracuse University student Patricia Osterman. They dropped out of college, got married and started a family on the Upper West Side.
Patricia’s father, Lester Osterman, was a Broadway producer, and Gray helped manage his productions before working on Wall Street. By 1975 Mr. Gray and his wife were divorced.
He also ran a Gray’s Papaya outlet in Greenwich Village from 1987 to 2014, opening two stores on 8th Avenue in Midtown, with the last one closing in 2021.
Rise in commercial land rent wiped out Lots of papaya shops. In addition to the original Glades store and the newly relocated Papaya King soon to open across Third Avenue, New York City has Papaya Dog on West Fourth Avenue, Chelsea Papaya on West 23rd Avenue and the Financial District. leaving Lentil Papaya at the Whitehall Ferry Terminal.
In 1989, Mr. Gray’s fractional brother in McGill told his daughter, Rachel Everts, a freshman architecture student at Parsons School of Design, to check up on Mr. Gray when he got to New York. They got married in 1996.
In addition to his daughter Natasha, Mr. Gray has a wife. Another daughter from his first marriage, Sheila Gray. Daughter and son from second marriage, Tessa and Rufus Gray. Sister Robina Pereira. and her granddaughter.
For most of his life, Mr. Gray lived on the block across from Gray’s Papaya, most recently in the clothing district.
Rachel Gray helped run Gray’s Papaya and took over the store when her husband’s Alzheimer’s disease progressed. Tessa and Rufus, 18-year-old twins, can be behind the counter sometimes, especially during the summer months.
As for the future, Gray said in a phone interview, “Long live Gray’s papaya.” The store has a friendly relationship with its longtime landlord, and the lease has been on for years and the family plans to renew it.
