literature and they invited the writer occasionally if he didn t have money because they appreciated the literature. where are we now compared to that? anthony: don t try that now, of course. today s new york café patrons spend both their time and their money on things like goose liver terrine. foie gras is everywhere in hungary, all over every menu, and it s good. real good. peter s going for the lamb ragu, a soup. peter: if you would look like a writer, they immediately would bring you a paper and ink. they would bring up the dictionary, whatever you were looking for. also, most people didn t have telephones at home and you could be called here, and you could get your mail. anthony: why do i want to attract writers? it s like, i need more jazz musicians in my restaurant. they re deadbeats. peter: yeah, it was a different anthony: there s no money there. peter: it was a different time. it was not simply about the money. anthony: so it was about? peter: identity.
wanted to start a career, wanted to build places like this because it was a good investment. anthony: the new york café is one of the last remnants of a society where artists and writers were valued citizens regardless of financial means. peter: when this café was built there were more than five hundred cafes in this neighborhood and this was the biggest and nicest café in the world at the time never to be closed. anthony: here, like in most cafes at that time, a few cents or a few bucks could buy you space all day long sipping your coffee, thinking great thoughts. nobody would hassle you. it was a petri dish of creativity. no hipster neck beard barista would make you feel bad about not spending any dough. peter: waiters were speaking several languages and they read literature and they invited the writer occasionally if he didn t have money because they appreciated the literature. where are we now compared to that? anthony: don t try that now,