fedorable: the story of a west village dining institution

Whether a regular guest or a first-time diner, everyone gets an equally warm welcome from Fedora Dorato, owner of the West Village restaurant that shares her name. For the past 57 years, her picturesque hideaway has been a place of refuge in this storied New York City neighborhood. In the 1960s and '70s, Fedora Restaurant was particularly welcoming to gay men and women at a time when being out in public places was a frowned-upon—if not dangerous—activity, as history has shown. The Stonewall Riots, a violent altercation between police and patrons of a gay bar that triggered the gay rights movement, took place just around the corner from Fedora 40 years ago this week. Today, the little Italian restaurant is still like a home (not far) away from home for a diverse group of locals.

Fedora (pictured) and her late husband, Henry, opened the restaurant in 1952. Before then, it had belonged to Henry's father and even operated as a speakeasy during Prohibition. Stepping inside is like entering another, simpler era—one where you can easily imagine your parents on their first date, slurping spaghetti and Chianti before dashing off to the late show at the Village Vanguard. "It looked exactly like this when I walked in here 35 years ago. She hasn't changed a thing," says Roger Gallagan, a frequent diner, noting the original pressed-tin ceiling and maroon wainscoting. Rosy lighting casts an old-world glow on the restaurant's white tablecloths and dark wood bar, while an old phone booth containing—what else?—a rotary phone sits next to the front door. Every inch of the far wall is covered with collected photos—of family, friends and regulars—as well as drawings and autographs, including a napkin signed by Lauren Bacall. The wall acts as a scrapbook, telling stories of the Doratos, the restaurant and the West Village community.

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