Miscelanea NY

March 16, 2017

A hole in the wall can never be that charming, unless it’s Miscelanea NY. Perched on the East Village of Manhattan, and looking more like an art installation (murals included) than a typical NYC deli, Miscelanea fuses a Mexican deli with a concept store. One-of-a-kind tortas are their star menu item, accompanied by “Cafe de Olla”, a selection of Mexican cooking products, and let’s not forget the fun stuff: Mexican maps, cooking books, table games, and even caps reading “Make America Mexico Again.”

If you ask us, it looks like a children’s candy store—except the candies are sauces and salts, and the toys aremolcajetes and Mexican candles.

We spoke to the owner Guillaume Guevara to learn more about the journey of his business and his love for Mexican anything.

Text by Sasha Leon
Photos by Mitchell Connell

Where are you from?

I’m from Mexico City, born and raised. I left there when I was about 17 or 18.

Did you always wanted to own something like Miscelanea?

No. I was more of a corperate kind of guy. You hire me you pay me and I’m happy. That only worked for about 10 years and at a certain point I wanted to try something on my own. NYC inspires you, but it’s also evil. You can get lost in it, like a drug: they’re amazing but they can kill you. You have to know that you can’t do drugs without getting in some trouble. And that’s NYC. You can live here without getting into trouble, but you gotta know how much to take.

If you go to too many fashion week events and too many 300 dollar dinners with friends, then you wanna live in TribeCa and go to The Hampton's. After that you go broke, go live under the bridge, and then die [laughs].

So did you get the idea for your business in Mexico or here in NYC?

I’ve been in NYC for about 15 years now, and I always thought there was a void in the market.. Miscelanea means deli in spanish, but [we] encompass much more than just a deli. I like to call it a hybrid between a deli and a concept store. We sell food, but we also sell gifts and books, and we do catering. We have an online shop and even a magazine that we just came up with. I call it an umbrella for all things Mexican. So the main idea was to promote Mexico.

How long has it been here?

Since the summer of 2015. We're pretty new in the NYC scheme.

You’re kinda big! I read about Miscelanea in the New York Times.

That probably speaks to the fact that maybe we were right; there was a void. There’s a lot of Mexican restaurants and bars, but the press is not gonna talk about the next Mexican restaurant. It’s gonna talk about something new, and there was no Mexican store [like ours] until the day we opened. There’s some, but they have a bit of a Latin-American twist, merged with Dominican and Puerto Rican products. There was nothing 100 percent Mexican. We were at the right place at the right time.

Who are your customers? Mexicans? Americans? Tourists?

We have a variety. A lot of them have become regulars. We’re small, we’ve gotten press, but were not a powerhouse. You don’t come here from New Jersey or the Upper West Side, but a lot of the locals are regulars; people that live in New York, and that’s a big part of our business. The second part is divided by people that follow us online. Then there are also Mexicans that google “Mexican store” or “Mexican deli” or “queso oaxaca” and they find us and end up here. As far as I know, were the only store in Manhattan that sells queso oaxaca by the pound.

How did you get the idea or the concept of a high-end kinda deli?

I don’t refer it to it as high-end. Its both: low and high. I was trying to represent Mexico in a nicer way, and by nicer I don’t mean elitist or expensive. What I mean is in a more relevant and newer way. You don’t necessarily know its Mexican when you walk in. There’s no Mexican flag or a sombrero or a mariachi welcoming you at the door. It’s more about entering a beautiful place where we present Mexican products. We have products starting at 50 cents, but we also have more refined and elevated merchandise. I want to present Mexico to all incomes and all races. I have entrepreneurs that come in sometimes, and there’s also dishwashers that come in. They all shop together and buy the same things.

How did you curate the menu? How did you decide you were going to sell tortas (Mexican sandwiches) as your main dish?

The idea was to open a store with limited food. [At the beginning] we were thinking of pastries and coffee. But soon before we opened someone suggested we sell food, and I thought it was a good idea, since delis in NYC sell food. Someone suggested we sell tacos, but everyone sells tacos. Everybody does that. We’re not gonna be the best or only tacos, were just gonna be another fucking taco spot in NYC.

So I’m like, “We’re a deli, we should sell your regular cheese sandwich that you get in NYC but with a Mexican spin.” I personally love tortas, and there’s not too many out there. So we stuck to tortas and we do them well. A lot of people want complicated stuff like ceviche added to the menu, but I’m a big believer in doing things right. I’d rather have one amazing basic product that’s well-executed than try to produce a large but mediocre menu.

Where do you see this expanding to? Long term? Are you focused only on one store and making it perfect?

I would definitely like to grow. It’s a big component of anyone’s dream. You don’t go into business hoping to remain small, but at the same time I know people that have grown quickly and fell even quicker. It happens a lot in NYC, chains close out of nowhere because they grow a little too fast. I do want to grow, but I want to go slow. I’m focusing solely on this store for now. We don’t wait for customers to come, we go out and reach them. We do caterings,we deliver with every delivery service, and we go out there. We have an online store for e-commerce but everything is centralized [in this location]. I have people reach out to me for franchises, but at the moment we need to have everything controlled here and then hopefully expand.

Do you still find yourself being pretty hands on? Taking over the kitchen and such?

Of course. I’m still doing pretty much everything when people can’t. Sometimes the cook or chef is alone and is slammed during lunch hour. I jump in with the dishes or the cooking or whatever he needs. There’s always an hour where he’s drowning in orders. When he’s fine, I step out. I’m still very involved, yes.

Are you here everyday monitoring?

At the very beginning I was opening and closing, as well as working the counter and it was very exhausting. I was also doing the social media and all the finances, payroll… etc., and at the same time I had a baby. I was trying to do everything and on top I wasn’t sleeping at night, so I crashed.

I had to delegate and find guys that would run the show without me. That was the first step into the growth we’re talking about. We have a great manager and lovely staff, and when I’m not here everything is fine. I’m not as involved anymore, as I’m trying to focus on the bigger picture: what’s gonna create our buzz and revenue, and what people enjoy and want from us.

What was the most rewarding part? Giving america a taste of Mexican culture?

I think it’s very rewarding. The most rewarding is having people that work here being able to support themselves. We have full time employees and they make a living off of Miscelanea solely.. My business providing a couple of people a way of making a living feels amazing. And hopefully a living that they enjoy. The other thing I’m proud of is being able to present Mexico in a more modern way. I’m trying to present Mexico and promote it in general. I think people are starting to realize that Mexico is not what they thought; some are still stuck with their little ideas, particularly with what’s been happening with Trump. It’s fun to present something unique for them. Not necessarily take their money, but get them acquainted.

Do you have any competition? Has anyone tried to mimic what you’re doing?

I thought you said ‘compensation’. In case you wanted to know, I’m broke as fuck.[laughs]. Anyway, competition, yes and no. There are some delis that are Mexican out there, and I admire them. Some of what they do is insane. Zaragoza for example, is not too far from here. There's only one guy and they've been here for 20 years. There’s also another one in Williamsburg that’s really cool as well. I think they're half our competitors. They do well. When people google ‘Mexican stores’, we all show up, so I think they are our competition, but we’re also a bit different. I don’t really compare you to them to be honest. Some of the products and prices are definitely the same, Like our salsa “Herdez” we sell it for 3.95 and they do too. It's just a different location. But they don't sell all the fun and innovative stuff--like iced coffee with horchata.

Not to get too political but it must be a difficult time with Mexico and the media and Trump.

I guess it’s unsettling times. You hear about all this deportations; even people with green cards. It hasn't affected anyone around me, or me personally. I've been very lucky, but I'm also an optimist. I try to think about the future and the positiveness. Overtime things get better. We have a mural that says hope outside our store because of that. I think we’ll be okay, like Mexicans say.

I find it very unique that you’re one of the few businesses with only two or three employees.

Yeah that’s what I’m proud of. They are now here full-time, and from what I know they don’t have another job. They’re making a living off of Miscelanea, and they know each other very well. We employ anyone that’s suitable for the job, but speaking Spanish is imporant to me. I want people to feel like they're having a true Mexican experience. Like right now as we speak, I’m noticing my tortilla lady is getting free sandwiches, but I have no problem with it. She’s always on time, and she does our delicious chips. She comes when there’s a snowstorm or a heatwave. It’s part of the Mexican culture. We take care of one another.

Culture

Alain Levitt’s Time Capsule of Early Aughts NYC (2000-2005)

Amanda Lepore, Alain Levitt

Beyond the exhibition, Alain’s book of the same name, available May 1st, acts as a time capsule, a snapshot of what he and his friends were getting into back then — figuring their lives out, meeting people, making memories and now, reminiscing on what was. Today, walking through Dimes Square where his and his wife’s restaurant, Bacaro, has become a premiere meeting hub for the neighborhood's youth, Alain recognizes that while “it’s such a different world,” youth is still the same.

“Young people are young people, man. It’s different being older and not really understanding what’s going on. I don’t fully feel like I’m part of it in the same way… but I love it and it seems the same, but one thing I see is it’s more colorful, it’s animated, and everything seems kind of to an extreme that I really love.”

When Bacaro first opened in 2007, there was no Dimes Square. He likens the emergence of the neighborhood to “the beginning of Williamsburg when that kind of popped off and all of a sudden, if you went down Bedford, it was just young people everywhere and everybody was dressing outrageous.” Back then, congregating in Bedford symbolized a communal rejection of Manhattan. What Levitt witnesses in Dimes, a neighborhood that’s become a bit polarizing amongst New Yorkers, is “more or less the same thing” — though the object of its rejection seems yet to be defined.

Perhaps it’s more of an acceptance — of indulgence, of being part of something, of embracing the past, keeping alive this idealized perception of NYC.

left to right - Ryan McGinley, Dan Colen, Kenji Ukigaya, Dash Snow

When Alain moved out here in the ‘90s, his older sister Danielle gave him a camera. At that time, he didn’t consider himself a photographer. He was just a younger brother emulating his older sister, who was shooting street photography and fashion parties for the Post. Alain recalls “showing up to Max Fish and being gently made fun of for his oversized paparazzi rig.” For his second job, Alain was working as a bar-back at The Cock and The Fat Cock (now known as The Hole), giving him “a front row seat to a wild NY that was quickly being choked out by Mayor Giuliani.”

On one of his first nights, he was assigned to the back room at The Cock, where patrons would do whatever drunk people do in the dark. As a kid “brand new to New York” flashing a light on people, he realized that suddenly, his life was completely different. And it was exciting. “I made more money than I could have ever imagined. I was working minimum wage jobs coming from LA, at movie theaters and all this other shit. In NY, I was able to live off two days a week which gave me room to do everything.”

Eventually, Alain started shooting for Nylon, PAPER, V Magazine, and other publications on his days off. Though they didn’t fully feel like a part of that world, he and his friends (skaters, graffiti artists, ravers, the trifecta of '90s subcultures) disrupted the fabric of the fashion scene. Reminiscing on some of those moments, he tells us, “Our group would show up at the fashion parties and make our presence known, even though they probably didn’t think we belonged there, that maybe we hadn’t earned it yet.”

left to right - Ryan McGinley, Chloë Sevigny

Then, Alain found his community on the Lower East Side, “Alife by day, Max Fish at night,” and “after starting a bi-weekly party, with Spencer Sweeny, at The Hole, planted his seed in the downtown scene.” The world that Levitt found himself navigating in his early years in New York City wasn’t new, it was itself a continuation of the pseudo-renaissance that emerged downtown in the ‘60s and again in the '70s and again in the subsequent decades. “It’s almost like a 10-year cycle and one good thing about New York is that it lets you be young a little longer. We were coming out here thinking about the CBGB’s era.”

And when looking through Alain’s photos, while humming with an inherent sense of nostalgia, it feels as if these images could’ve been taken yesterday. Skateboarding, bands playing one-off shows in dingy music venues, gallery openings that pour out onto the block, it’s all still here, just slightly different. While the internet has made us more connected, and distractions more frequent, much of what was, still is. And for Alain, there’s an innate resilience to this culture of “youth”, a culture somehow driven by a shared dysfunction. “Living in New York is so hard, rents are high, the weather is hard. It can be amazing but you have to put up with all this other bullshit to get the best out of it. You have to be willing to suffer. The people that I knew and the people that I connected to and was around — there was always a certain amount of fucked-up-ness we all shared.”

The people that I knew and the people that I connected to and was around — there was always a certain amount of fucked-up-ness we all shared.

left to right, Dash Snow, Kunle Martins (Earsnot)

Whether seeking self-discovery in New York City, escaping a toxic family, or generally curious to explore the city’s burgeoning underbelly, people here find their own, often forming surrogate families along the way. Levitt’s book, and the photographs on display at WHAAM! exemplify that family isn’t always clean-cut and you might bond with a person you’d least expect to: on the train, at a bar, laying on the grass at Seward Park, skating at Tompkins, or having a plate of squid ink pasta at Bacaro before heading to Le Dive for some overpriced house wine.

In the most ordinary moments, the greatest ideas and connections can spring to life and this was true even then. “I imagine creativity drives a lot of this,” Levitt says. “There’s a thread that we saw and maybe even idealized New York City to be.” It’s a thread that this generation hasn’t seemed to let go of: “I feel like my book shows our moment of coming into ourselves and now the kids today are doing it themselves. In 20 years, there’ll be a record of their time that the next group of kids will be looking at. It might not be the same, but the roots are.”

From Tim Barber, a former photo editor at Vice who edited the book, to Jesse Pearson, former EIC at Vice, Su Barber (Tim’s sister), Mike Piscitelli from Fucking Awesome and skateboarder Jason Dill, everyone involved in the book “from the editors down to the publisher was there in our circle, and pretty much all in the book too.” To Alain, everyone in the book was of equal significance, whether celebrity Chloe Sevigny or Marc Razo of Max Fish, who Alain recognizes as “a loving, wonderful person who’s been in the downtown scene forever.”

“Some of those people have definitely become legendary, which is awesome,” says Levitt. “But with them, it’s like me, I felt special to be there. I wanted to be with these people and we all had all of these lofty ideas of ourselves that were shattered over time. I think it’s good to break through those delusions of grandeur and get a real sense of what the world is. But at that moment, it was pure. We all thought we were special.” And maybe we still do.

NYC 2000-2005 is on view April 18 - May 25, 2024 at WHAAM! at 15 Elizabeth St # 113, New York, NY 10013.

Culture

At Planned Parenthood's Annual Gala, Megan Thee Stallion Shines Bright

April 18, 2024

Under one of the first truly warm evenings of New York’s spring season, guests, organizational supporters, and a grab-bag of celebrities (who saw Molly Ringwald?) gathered at Cipriani’s South Street outpost to ring in another year of action and advocacy.

In a regressive landscape that has recently seen the rollback of the right to protest in three states, as well as the upholding of arcane abortion legislation in Arizona, Planned Parenthood’s call to action is eerily more apt than ever.

At an interactive exhibit during the cocktail hour, Judy Chicago’s interactive work, produced in partnership with DMINTI, invited guests to share their voices during an urgent time in the fight for free bodies. Participants in the videos will become a permanent piece of the historic artwork as it travels worldwide on tour.

By Sam Falb
Photography by Nikki Burnett

After guests settled into their seats, the night’s honorees Patricia Arquette and Megan Thee Stallion lauded the organization’s work and the manifold ways it has affected their lives for the better. Overcome with emotion, Megan accepted the Catalyst for Change Award, in recognition of her choice to advocate for bodily freedom and sexual liberation through her platform, and inimitable tracks like Plan B.

“Planned Parenthood has been a leader while abortion rights are under attack. Y’all are the true heroes,” Megan shared in her acceptance speech. “I’ve always known that I have a bigger purpose than just being a musician, and to speak up when people need our help.”

The second of its kind, the gala celebrates the work of the organization while honoring particularly devoted advocates, hosting an auction to raise funds for annual operating costs, and rounding out with an afterparty featuring host Patia of Patia’s Fantasy World, and DJs including Boston Chery and river moon.

“They’ve been there for me and a lot of my friends, especially when I first came to this country and needed healthcare,” Moon said. When the lights went down and guests trickled out onto the street, the event’s urgent appeal was in clear and energizing focus, primed for a productive year ahead.

Culture

“This is the most cracked-out shit I’ve ever been to”: Inside Harmony Korine's EDGLRD Party at Elsewhere

April 17, 2024

When do Travis Scott fanboys hang out with BDSM gear-wearing leather heads? At Harmony Korine’s Tuesday night party at Elsewhere, where EDGLRD, Korine’s multimedia design collective, screened their latest film, AGGRO DR1FT. It’s an acid-bath wet dream of luxury cars, gore, and strippers in chain mail — a Miami take on the classic Korine narrative. The film says it best: “There is magic in this brutality. I am mesmerized by it. Right in front of my eyes, we are turning into animals.” With the film’s minute-long beheading scene and a confused Travis Scott asking, “Julius Caesar wrote the Bible?” we were primed to party with that same “magic brutality.”

Between the bored strippers, fashion fanatics, and the guy in the booth with AraabMuzik conspicuously rubbing his nose, not an ass was left unshaken. Everyone wanted to be “the belle of the EDGLRD ball” — evident through the girls trying to be the next Korine muse, fancying him a sort of new-age Warhol. Amidst airborne dollar bills and monster masks, all were pleasantly surprised when Korine’s DJ set had that same animalistic feel as AGGRO DR1FT. A guest's sprained ankle serves as a testament to the fact that Korine’s DJing goes as hard as his filmmaking.

By Izzy Capulong
Photography by Liv Solomon

We got some input from partygoers — some anonymous, some less so.

Anonymous — The film was like a three-hour-long trailer for GTA 6.

Anonymous 2 — We’ll call tonight, “Harmony Korine’s goon cave.”

Aidan — I came here kind of old-new to New York, and I haven’t lived here in eight years, but I’m here again and this is the most cracked-out shit I’ve ever been to.

office — In a good way or a bad way?

Aidan — Always good.

Claire — It’s a rare evening that you find yourself the perfect amount of drunk to be in the space that you’re in, but I happened to experience that tonight, so for me, it’s pure Nirvana. But they stopped playing All Star mid-song. That was upsetting. But at one point in the evening, a rogue, brave woman got herself on stage and took her titties out.

Girl with her tits out — This is the future of cinema.

Tyler — The last time I partied at Elsewhere was 2018. Harmony Korine brought New York back.