Appetite

Introduction

For "Lin. Hallowell," (1909—1985,) illustrator and restaurateur, whose name appears as printed, in quotes, on the wide 14K band ringing his black mid-30s Sheaffer's Lifetime fountain pen. In his early (1930-1938) and late (1965-1975) careers, "Hallowell" was a highly re- garded illustrator with great personal respect for the European tra- ditions which he had studied independently while travelling in Italy and France (1934-1936) where he was inspired not only to perfect his craft but to dream of eventually indulging his avocation, a love for fine cuisine and dining camaraderie. Returning to the U.S. in Novem- ber, 1936 he began eyeing properties and finally, as opportunity pre- sented itself, bought land from a farmer whose home had burned, happily located near the meeting of three counties, roughly at equal distances from the county seat of each. Figuring current gas- rationing would end with the conclusion of hostilities, "Hallowell" borrowed and built and operated his dream restaurant, initially for the remaining locals but in anticipation of the troops' return and the highway network already rumored which would draw increasing patrons as the celebrations settled into business afterward.

"Hallowell" was known for his illustrations, particularly for periodical fiction and for essays reporting Americans' experiences overseas. One particular assignment haunted him nearly thirty years, its ambiguities imposing themselves from sketchpad to sketchpad, and playing themselves into his adolescent tendencies to insomnia. Passengers on a ship departed from France shared not only the report that they had been fired upon but the feeling that survival itself was compromised, unable to shake the sense that the torpedo had run beyond them, with inches, maybe, separating their deckboard liveliness from deep and anonymous disaster, or shake the doubts they had survived that leaden death set inexorably against them, asking what trick of sea life or sea lighting set its claims on hearts for decades. Much as infantrymen have asked why Death insisted itself capriciously, wondering afterward what choice, what personal survival or dead friend itself was the illusion, these, returning to New York and from New York to towns and arming neighborhoods, would ask themselves for decades the questions "Hallowell" himself could not keep silent, even as these, without a choice but to engage the lives ahead according to appearances and opportunities appearance meant for prospering.

With these questions lingering, "Hallowell" conducted his pros- perous, highly regarded enterprise, adapting his dining rooms and cuisine to European models and, if swimming against the tide of public sentiment to some degree, believed that earlier isolationism had proven itself a recipe for the half-decade of catastrophe being set- tled as he established his mark on appetite. He personally welcomed guests, left them with sketches for their keeping, placing locals in environs whim or wish advised, while in the process coming to terms with his own torments, working until closing some nights, and seen some nights driving at all hours, initially seeking property and later seeking out the character of afterhours whiskey bars and diners, keeping the images close to heart that would inspire his late career. Although he re-thought pricing to draw the families in, experimented with dinner theater, fashion displays, theme evenings and costumes, the business eventually declined, the high-way system that brought the drivers out finally luring them to steeper models of excitement, with the results his closing to pursue the life's work" on levels he had never quite abandoned. Section One mentions the names of four New York State communities not far from my birthplace, Syracuse, which should be regarded not so much fixed locations but as evocative tone sequences, suggestions of places along the way, as much America's own as they are part of Upstate rollingland. 

© Robert Lietz