Peter Luger
178 Broadway
Williamsburg, Brooklyn
718 387-7400
Open every day
Lunch served until 3:00pm
No credit cards accepted

Summoned
I love jury duty. Most people I know whine and postpone. Not me...I'm down at the courthouse the very first morning...eager, along with my peers, to see to it that justice is served in Manhattan. Plus, this is major living theatre. No one in New York City escapes jury duty these days...not even the mayor...or movie stars. So, you might see Brooke Astor or Julia Roberts in the pool...or an 18-year old man who has repeatedly spent everything he had on pierces and tattoos in the East Village. Icons!

Now, what in the hell does jury duty have to do with food? Everything! Car trips, wandering through airports and jury duty are among the activities that make me really ravenous (chopping wood for a morning would probably get me an invitation to the Donner Party).

Here in Manhattan, jury duty is played out in one of several courthouses in and around Foley Square, which is just above City Hall and near enough food havens to cause anyone's mind to turn into a clone of James Beard's. Or, Porky Pig's!

Last month, responding to the summons that comes every two years, I reported to 111 Centre Street for active duty. At first there's lots of milling around and waiting (and waiting) to be picked to sit on a jury...or to be rejected and thrown back into the pool again. It's this very process that causes my mind to wander from my reading material, bill paying and letter writing to...FOOD! Where am I going to go for lunch? Chinatown? Little Italy? Some 4-star place in TriBeCa that has a $19.98 special? After all, jury duty in Manhattan now pays $40 a day. Why not live it up? (Editor's note, prices have increased since this article awas written.)

Picked
At last it happened...my name was called. It was time to be questioned for jury selection. The merry, chubby attorney for the plaintiff asked me what I did for a living. I told him I was a food writer, and that I had just returned from the legendary Peter Luger Steak House...where I had eaten during the lunch break. His mind boggled...I was in like Flynn!

It was true. I had used my 1 hour break to go one subway stop (J, M or Z trains) across the East River; where I then walked three blocks to the best steak house in the city...and perhaps the world...Peter Luger.

After being seated in one of the beer hall-like dining rooms, I told my famously brusque waiter that I was on jury duty in Manhattan and had to be back across the river in an hour. I ordered the cheeseburger (medium rare), with a side of French fries, and a diet-Coke (that'll save 100 calories right there). The waiter said, "that takes 10 minutes".... I said, "make it 9". Service at Peter Luger basically consists of what you ask for...and that includes water.

Wolf, wolf, wolf. I had a prime, aged, beef burger... topped with Swiss cheese, that weighed over half a pound...with fries that would make the president of France bark like a poodle just to get one thrown at him. All this for under $10! And, I was back in court...smelling like an onion...with plenty of time to spare, to be picked by the chubby, merry lawyer.

Rejected
The next day, when our jury of six (this was a civil case) was assembled before the judge and attorneys, we heard the opening arguments for each side and were then dismissed, for...LUNCH!

I quickly formed an "eating alliance" of my peers (by this time I had a retinue)...and we repaired to a world famous place in Little Italy (but, that's a story for another time).

When we returned to the courthouse, we were told that the case had been settled: "Go home... you have served!" I was sort of disappointed. It was all over...in just two days. Apparently the chubby, merry lawyer took another look at us and settled out of court. But! I will always have Peter Luger!!!

Heaven
Peter Luger...the snazziest name for a restaurant ever...has been serving one thing better than any other place...since 1887... prime aged steaks. Porterhouse to be exact.

I was raised on a farm south of Kansas City and my father used to raise beef cattle. We always knew that the best steaks went to New York. And where do they go? Peter Luger! Sometimes things just come full-circle. And, guess what? At Peter Luger there are a number of lunch specials each weekday for under $15.

Having Your Steak and Eating It Too (take home!)
In addition to the burger, you can also find chopped steak, corned beef and chicken on the lunch menu all for a surprisingly low price.  But, let's not get too crazy. You are sitting in the temple of steak...go for it! You could at least splurge a little for the prime rib lunch special.

We all think we've had prime rib...but that's probably not true. This is the real thing. This is not lean meat. It's what used to be called marbleized. It's also aged in a box on the premises. What comes out is real prime rib...you can cut it with your fork. With it, you also get a vegetable and real potatoes. Always, at the beginning of any meal at Peter Luger, you get a basket of hot onion rolls and real butter. All along, there are some incredible smells going on. If you die at this point...you will at least have a big steak-eating grin on your face.

But, let's just say you're ready to go for broke. A steak-for-one will cost you aounrd $30.00.lunch or dinner. That's all...just a steak...no sides. But, you'll be wolfing down the best steak in the world.

What I did two days ago, was to ask an "assistant eater" to go back to Peter Luger with me. She (Diana) and I had the steak, a cheeseburger with French fries and an order of the famous creamed spinach.   All of this was placed before us on bare tables...no frills like tablecloths or place mats at Peter Luger.

The steak is broiled; then served on a big, white platter...swimming in its own juices...mixed with melted butter. (Hello!? Hello!? Mr. Brownfield!? We think we've found a match for your heart...could you please come down here right away!?) By this time, Diana, The Huntress, was extolling the virtues of just dipping the French fries into the buttery meat juices...eschewing the world famous steak sauce or catsup. Before we could finish humming all the verses to "Stout Hearted Men"...it was all gone. WOW! We were still breathing! Either a walk...or an ambulance...was definitely in order. Had there been leftovers, our waiter would have gladly packed them up for us.

Avoiding 911
Diana and I took a stroll through the neighborhood...Williamsburg, Brooklyn. We poked into bank buildings that were built before the turn of the century...when banks had to look like temples of finance. We found the local arts center, which is currently not open. It's in a state of flux, according to a tip we got at Peter Luger. Then we stumbled onto Selco Hatters (228 Marcy)...which has been in business for many, many years. The owner, Izzy, is the best. He had a helper there that day...they were cleaning out the top two floors to make way for apartments. What we saw popping out of the hat boxes caused our eyeballs to bug out on Slinkies...hats 50-100 years old that had never been taken out of their wrappers or boxes. He modestly told us he supplies to a lot of theatre and movie people. He also sells hats to the men of the area's large, eye-catching Hasidic community.

After the hatter, we slowly made our way to the end of the Williamsburg Bridge and, instead of the J. M. or Z trains, we opted for the #39 bus back to Manhattan. The view from the bridge, up and down the East River...after a lunch at Peter Luger...and a stroll through Williamsburg...caused me, and Diana (The Huntress) to fall in love with New York all over again.

God
Normally, at this point, I would suggest going on to another place for dessert and coffee...or perhaps a cocktail. But in this case, I recommend that you stop at your local house of worship and promise God you'll never overeat again. Tempting fate has drawbacks.

Please, stick with me, because I'm Out to Lunch in New York.

Clint Brownfield