A few weeks ago I received an email from two ardent Bill Evans fans—James Farber and Larry Goldberg. They wrote to say they had interviewed Evans back in 1976 on a radio station in Madison, Wis., and asked if I wanted to hear it. I said I’d be happy to and, if I loved it and the sound was clean, I’d be most interested in hosting the clip and sharing their story at JazzWax.
Marc Myers on JazzWax
I hope you will listen to the interview above. The stars that aligned to make it happen are chronicled on JazzWax. Incredibly sweet story.
When I first met James (My Main Sandwich Man in New York) he was playing piano in a quartet by the name of Regalia. At the – this a name that does not roll off the tongue – Brathaus. It was the mid-70’s and I’m proud to say I was loving jazz and tending bar you could call it. The drinking age was 18.
When I first met LRoy (My Main Sandwich Man in Boston) he was hanging around Madison post college, a childhood and best friend of James. No doubt he put in his time at the Brathaus, the Cardinal Bar, all the joints. Plus sharing air time with James at WORT (Stick it in your ear.), a Pacifica station, where they logged the midnight hour and through on to the wee parts of day.
The Br..haus – such a clunker of a name, as a mother-of-a-son I’m mortified – did serve some fine fine sandwiches. Only only only after a series of steps. An order. Could be shouted to you over a crowd, say it’s a Thursday or Friday night and Regalia is playing, or a Saturday and the Badgers are playing. Shouted. Okay, I got it. A burger/brat combo to go, 3 steaks 2 with cheese, 3 brats, 3 orders of fries to stay. Kay, that’s simple. We don’t write it down here, we don’t ring it up, we call it, we hear it back, we grab it, reach for your money, big smile, tight t-shirt, cash drawer bangs open, in we go. Next!
To call that order, ok, here we go. 3 BRATS, 3 STEAKS, 2 WITH, A BRAT COMBO TO RIDE, 1 FRY TO RIDE, 3 FRIES, ORDERING! And then you hadda listen, hear, and also listen and hear the pile swarm pushing crowd calling for food. Those on the grill, they called it back 3 BRATS, 3 STEAKS, 2 W CHEESE, A BRAT COMBO TO RIDE, 1 FRY TO RIDE, 3 FRIES, no name, you knew it was yours by memory and you grabbed it. Then push it forward, reach for the money, big smile, tight t-shirt, cash drawer bangs open, change returned, all math in your head, and SHUT, tip? tip? tip?, aww we pool em, in we go. Next!
That system was silk. Prescribed by Shorty and Lammy who owned the joint. They built it too and built its parts – the amazing slicing machine, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, the rolls in half half half. Nice rolls they were. Every other Tuesday, a stint in the basement, smokin brats with a partner, a boy and girl brat-smokin’ match-up.
Every Thursday and Friday, Regalia. And a packed bar.He/she who booked ’em deserves a medal and a plaque. Brats to the max. Peaches and Regalia. Ordering!
The Lunch Encounter 
