SUN SONG 05: All the Way
No pictures, New York System, and Fort Thunder.
May 19th, 2022
Providence, RI
11.69 miles
No sunscreen today as it rained all day. I wore a raincoat instead. I didn't want to trudge through the storm, so I waited for it to pass. By noon I was on the road again walking in a light drizzle.
I planned to head downtown and then make my way to Olneyville, but given the rain, a large blanket of fog covered the surface of the Providence River. Instead I chose to follow along the river, where I’d stop at Collier Park to get a closer look at the large vessels passing through the Port of Providence amidst the fog. Afterwards I planned to bop around the southside of town.
When I arrived in Providence on Wednesday, my Airbnb host insisted I stay away from the south and west side neighborhoods, as they weren’t “nice” areas.
“I don’t want to see you over there. If you end up in a pickle, call me,” he said with a textbook New England accent. I appreciated his concern, but didn’t bother mentioning I was going to walk those neighborhoods today.
Whether true or not, I’m drawn towards those “undesirable” areas the most. I understand some of these places have their issues, but I find they are often home to the backbone of the city: the working-class, immigrants, and very tight-knit, longstanding communities. I’m not interested in only walking around the developed, gentrified, or affluent areas. Doing so would paint an inaccurate picture of a city. I’m not here just to see the so-called greatest hits.
Getting to Collier Park is not necessarily the prettiest walk, although it is fairly doable if you don’t mind moving alongside busy Allens Avenue and below I-195. The park itself is tucked along the western bank of the Providence River and surrounded by industry, like a power station, asphalt company, road salt distributor, and a scrap metal yard.
I climbed up into the transfer station, a remnant from the days when the park was a coal loading dock. It now serves as an observation deck, which shields visitors from the elements. On a rainy day, such as today, it was the perfect refuge. From up top you can see views of the Iway Bridge, the Hurricane Barrier, and tugboats moving up and down the river.
I continued down Allens Avenue, which in these parts, boasts a notable amount of strip clubs, and more scrap metal yards. I tried taking a photo of a massive crane bearing a load of twisted metal, but was quickly stopped by a security guard.
No pictures, no pictures.
I asked why, but he just kept repeating himself.
No pictures, no pictures.
Eventually I stumbled upon the Seaplane Diner – a classic greasy spoon. On its roof sits, of course, a miniature seaplane. I walked inside just to see what it was about.
Hi, hun. Take a seat anywhere you’d like.
I wasn’t planning on eating, but sat down anyway. I watched a waitress serve up a plate of sunnyside eggs to an older gentleman at the end of the diner bar. Kate Bush played over the speakers.
What can I get ya?
Succumbing to my appetite, even though I’d just had a light breakfast, I ordered over easy eggs, bacon, homefries (the East Coaster’s hash browns), and a side of buttered toast. It was basically ready by the time I finished ordering. The older woman beside me ordered a massive bowl of bolognese, which apparently was their specialty.
I asked how the diner got its name, and years ago there was once a seaplane base across the street where the planes would take off. Nowadays, you could never tell as it’s nothing but warehouses.
Dietarily, today was not my best, however, it was likely my favorite day of the walk so far – even with the rain. I walked through Elmwood, West End, and finally into Olneyville. On Westminster, I stopped at a gas station to get a bottle of water. There, across the street, I saw a sign that read, “OLNEYVILLE NEW YORK SYSTEM. EAT HOT WIENERS. SANDWICHES”.
I saw this place on the map when planning the day’s walk and assumed it was just a business that installed car stereos or manufactured parts. Boy, was I wrong. It was unlike any restaurant I’ve ever visited.
At the door, I was greeted by a man behind the counter, who I later learned was George. I was enamored by the orange and yellow booths filling the space. I was possessed, walking up and down the diner counter, eventually taking a seat in a booth.
Are you staying to order?
I’m not sure yet.
My eyes lit up. This place reminded me of the Coney Island’s I frequented while living in Detroit, but this place had a flavor of its own, and was in fact, nothing like a Coney Island.
You’ve never been here before, have ya?
Can you tell?
I took a seat at the bar, where George gave me the lowdown.
This place is known for its hot weenies. These aren’t hotdogs!
George served me a red hot weenie, which I learned is made of beef, pork, and veal, just like my great, great grandmother’s Swedish meatballs, (although they are of Greek origin). Served in a steam bun, topped with celery salt, yellow mustard, chopped onions, and a seasoned meat sauce (they call that “all the way”) a hot weenie is NEVER served with ketchup (it seems as though the people of Providence hold the same regard for ketchup on their hotdogs as the people of Chicago).
Before I knew it, George served me the works, which consisted of coffee milk, which is exactly what it sounds like, and a side of salt and vinegar fries covered in ketchup.
He casually mentioned David Byrne, the lead singer of The Talking Heads, once worked at a different New York System, the one down on Smith Street.
You know that song Once In A Lifetime? [Makes chopping gesture on his forearm] Same as it ever was! Same as it ever was! It’s about the hot weiners!
It’s called the “New York System” for a couple reasons. At the turn of the century, it was used as a marketing strategy when hotdogs were closely associated with Coney Island, although it’s always been a distinctly Rhode Island product. It also refers to the style of preparation, which is all done in front of the customer’s eyes. Everything is grilled and prepared out in the open. Little happens behind the doors, other than storing produce.
This place isn’t necessarily unknown. It’s been featured in the paper and frequented by Guy Fieri and George Zimmern. It’s also one of the only weenie restaurants to receive a James Beard Award. You’d never know from outside.
This place is deader than Kathy’s balls!
I came at the perfect time, during a midday lull according to a woman sitting at the counter, although Joe the Greatest, another guy serving hot weenies, insisted this place gets packed at night.
Good thing we don’t serve liquor, we’d get nothing done!
Joe showed me a photo of him preparing 10 weenies, held by his forearm as he lathered ‘em up with meat sauce.
Amby, the third guy working the counter, was more than happy to let me take his picture. Filling up a cup of coffee milk, he posed and pretended to serve the woman at the counter. Occasionally he would point at my camera. I probably spent 45 minutes just taking pictures of the place and conversing with employees and customers. It was refreshing to be around such easy going folks. Everything I ate was incredible and I promised I would come back again someday. I’d highly recommend stopping by if you’re in Providence.
Thoroughly charmed, I bought a coffee mug, even though I need to keep a light load. It’s worth the extra weight.
My belly full, I stopped over at the former site of Fort Thunder, which was just a hop and a skip from the New York System. Fort Thunder was a legendary artist's space on the second floor of a pre-Civil War former textile factory. It was used as a venue for music and events, but also served as a living space for artists.
I would have never known where it was, until messaging Jim Drain, an artist who once called Fort Thunder home. The building was demolished in 2001 to make room for a Shaw’s grocery and Staples. Classic.
I closed out the day with a brief stroll through Federal Hill, which is home to Providence’s Little Italy, then back Downtown, over to Benefit Street, passed the John Brown House, and finally back to my Airbnb. I grabbed a salad and slice of pizza at the highly recommended Fellini’s. I can see its neon lights from my window as I write this newsletter.
There was so much to write about today, but not enough time. I need to get some sleep. I’m planning a long one tomorrow.
Thanks as always for reading,
–Alex
I love all the seaplane diner content!
As soon as I read that you were headed towards Olneyville I was hoping you'd get hot wieners and coffee milk