KNISH KNOSH, 100-30 QUEENS BLVD Knish Knosh ...

| 16 Feb 2015 | 06:22

    The knishes at Knish Knosh are old. Not "old" as in unfresh, but as in they have history. Knish Knosh has been at the corner of 67th Rd. and Queens Blvd. on the Rego Park/Forest Hills border since it opened in 1952, and it still plies its main trade from an unaltered, 100-plus-year-old recipe. The knish is as much a part of New York City fabric as a Coney Island hot dog or a bagel.

    Outside of gradual price adjustments from 20¢ to $2 per knish and the late addition of the "kosher pig in a blanket"?a kosher hotdog in knish dough?little has changed since Knish Knosh first opened. That is, little had changed until six months ago when Sam Heller, the eighty-five-year-old former owner, sold the business to Haig Schneiderman, a former garmentbusiness executive in his forties who describes himself as a customer who liked the product so much that he bought the company.

    "Twenty-five or thirty years ago I had a knish here, and once you had one, that was it," he says. "I always wondered why there was only one Knish Knosh." If he succeeds in his goals, Schneiderman will convert Knish Knosh into a knish franchise. In addition to scouting locations in Manhattan, Boca Raton and Miami, Schneiderman has already opened a second Knish Knosh on the University of Rhode Island campus in Providence, where he offers Cheez Whiz, chili and baked bean toppings, innovations that would make Yonah Shimmel roll over in his grave.

    Purism aside, Schneiderman isn't concerned that such growth could prompt a decline in the quality of the product, which has been handmade by the same staff in Queens for more than forty years. "It's like bagels," he reasons. "You can train anyone to do it."

    Currently, the original store turns out three to five thousand knishes a day. The hefty, puck-shaped pastries (particularly good when served warm) are delicious. The floury dough wrapper is slightly elastic and paper-smooth, unlike the greasy skins of the knishes that populate most Manhattan delis. Likewise, Knish Knosh's classic (and most popular) filling of fluffy mashed potatoes and onions is a far cry from the leaden "flake"-enhanced fillings that are the bane of many lesser knisheries. The taste truly is a relic of a different time.

    "I want to bring Knish Knosh into the 21st century, because it's a real antique," says Schneiderman, whose desire to "update" carries over to the look of Knish Knosh, which consists of carelessly placed chipped formica tables and chrome chairs. After closing for the week of Passover, Knish Knosh will reopen on April 25 with an espresso bar, smoothies, mahogany-topped tables and outdoor seating. "I really want to make it a Knish Knosh cafe," Schneiderman grins. "When I tell people what I bought, I say this is an institution. This place is a piece of history."

    After the Passover-week facelift, the original Knish Knosh will be history. Former owner Heller, now a part-time employee, remains stoic in the face of the impending changes. "I'm a cool cat," he says, as he folds pastry boxes on a wobbly table out front. "Whatever happens, happens."