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Pomona College Magazine is published three times a year by Pomona College
550 N. College Ave, Claremont, CA 91711
Online Editor: Mark Kendall
For editorial matters:
Editor: Mark Wood
Phone: (909) 621-8158
Fax: (909) 621-8203
PCM Editorial Guidelines
Contact Alumni Records for changes of address, class notes, or notice
of births or deaths.
Phone: (909) 621-8635
Fax: (909) 621-8535
Email: alumni@pomona.edu
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Great Jones!
Jim Moffett '80 brings the Big Easy to the
Big Apple
By Jill Walker Robinson
Classic juke joint. Cajun favorites. N’awlins style. It’s hard not to be
drawn into Great Jones Cafe, located at 54 Great Jones St. The voices of
Muddy Waters, Etta James and
Otis Redding greet customers from one of the last remaining vinyl jukeboxes playing 45s in the city. The one-person kitchen is tucked behind the mahogany bar and the 11 tables can only fit—make that squeeze—25 people into this cozy space, so it feels like everyone belongs in a Southern way.
Brunch at “The Jones,” as locals call it, is missing some of the dinner mainstays like jambalaya, gumbo, catfish and sweet potato fries. But andouille sausage finds its way into an omelet. Okra can be ordered in the Farmer’s Market Omelet and, naturally, grits and jalapeño cornbread come as a choice with all brunch entrees. A killer Bloody Mary spices up any meal for those who can handle the kick.
 “The draw for The Jones is clearly the food,” says Jim Moffett ’80, owner since 1989 and part-time employee (he works Saturday-Sunday-Monday shifts). “It’s artfully done.”
Or maybe it’s the cost. The cornbread baked fresh daily goes for 95 cents, according to the menu painted on the wall. (That’s the first menu item so it’s more visible than those below which are read around customers heads as they fill the seats near the wall.)
“The volume we have to move in and move out while being friendly—it’s kind of a labor of love,” said Moffett, who compares the food production to a McDonald’s in terms of quantity, but served without the rushed feeling of fast-food establishments.
On this particular Sunday, Gabe Phipps is working the door, seating groups and bussing tables, while waitress Sarah Murphy is taking orders and serving drinks and meals. Customers come and go, each made to feel right at home—which comes naturally for the staff since the average stay of the 12 employees is 10 years, uncommon in the restaurant business but another reason The Jones oozes Southern comfort. Even the cat Rufus stayed 14 years before passing.
“It’s a very casual and friendly place,” says Moses Chao ’73, a professor of cell biology and physiology and neuroscience at NYU Medical Center, who lives on Great Jones Street and frequents the restaurant. “It’s not pretentious.”
When Great Jones Café opened in 1983, it was one of the only restaurants in the neighborhood, and Moffett believes it was the first serving Cajun cuisine in the city. “I fell in love with its pub-like atmosphere,” says Moffett, who was working on Wall Street and living in the neighborhood when he became a regular. “The food was good, and it was cheap. To say it was a landmark was a bit of a stretch because it’s so small.” But it quickly became a hit and with its first-come, first-served policy, the 1½ hour wait was the norm—and is part of The Jones experience.
Located between the East and West Villages, Great Jones Street between Bowery and Lafayette has transitioned over the years. The neighborhood of loft buildings bordered Skid Row, harbored drug activity and housed Andy Warhol’s studio—at the time occupied by artist Jean-Michel Basquiat—when The Jones first opened. The block has become one of the 50 most desirable blocks to live in the city, as named in the October 2006 Time Out New York, with residential lofts commanding $2 million, high-end restaurants and a day spa. But The Jones, in its bright orange and blue-trimmed façade, built in 1820, remains unchanged.
“We don’t want to become a white tablecloth, 50 bucks a meal place. That’s not our style,” says Moffett, who bought the place when the original owners had a falling out with the landlord over the lease. “Even with our $8,500-a-month rent, we’re trying to be a neighborhood pub.”
“We’ve always been a neighborhood place for regulars,” echoes Bill Judkins, who started as a dishwasher in 1985 and is general manager. Though some of the regulars— and even all the employees but Moffett have moved out of the neighborhood—that doesn’t stop them from coming back. “We’re kind of a destination spot rather than a neighborhood spot,” says Judkins. “They’re in town to go to a job. They’re in town to hear some music …”
“If they want a fancier place, there are always choices,” says Judkins. “There are not so many choices for what we do.” A block away, a pricier Cajun restaurant opened more than a decade ago.
If it’s not the neighborhood, and the inexpensive meal probably isn’t worth the travel time, then maybe it goes back to the food—or that Southern feel.
Chef Mark Hitzges, who started as sous chef in 1985, has adopted some Southern ways in the kitchen even though he’s from Upstate New York. He goes with what’s available, since the specials change daily—as written on the chalkboard in the middle of the permanent menu on the wall. If there’s pumpkin at the market that day, there most likely will be pumpkin soup on the menu or maybe pumpkin pie. If there was chicken left over from the previous day’s menu, he might stir up chicken soup. There’s little waste, a limited menu. Meat is brought in daily from the butcher, nothing frozen. No microwave here.
“I like good, honest food,” says Hitzges, who says his menu is influenced by dishes from various regions of the country—his barbecue from the Carolinas—and that when he needs inspiration, he relies on memories of his grandparents’ cooking in Texas.
“When I’m (at The Jones), and I see people laughing and smiling and having a good time, and I think about Wall Street, it wasn’t people laughing and smiling and having a good time,” says Moffett.
When Moffett invites customers to Great Jones Café and says, “We’ll show you a little Southern hospitality,” he means it. They can even throw in a ghost story (like they do in N’awlins).
From Great Jones Café
Sweet Potato Fries
Fresh sweet potatoes
Peanut oil
Salt
Pepper
Cayenne
Cut sweet potatoes with French fry cutter, about ¼-inch thick. Soak
sweet potatoes in
water for no less than 2 hours, no more than 8 hours. Pat dry. Remove
excess water. Place
fries in oil (at least 350° but no higher than 375°), enough to cover.
Blanch about two minutes. Cool to room temperature (about a minute). Put
back in oil for a second time for about a minute until crisp and the
color desired. Sprinkle with a mixture of salt, pepper and a pinch of
cayenne. |
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