[Image from the East Village Eye via Ephemeral New York]
We received this email the other day:
Princess Pamela ran Princess Pamela's Little Kitchen on East 10th Street starting in the 1960s, and later in the less-glorious years, Princess Pamela's Southern Touch over on 1st. During the heyday Dizzy Gillespie was going. Miss Pamela wore a red wig, was known to sing and host bizarro salons, and let you in only after chatting you up at the door and approving of your entry into the fold. I have been completely captivated by this lady and surely its a story worth telling — at this juncture though we are not even sure what became of Pamela.
The request comes from an assistant working with Charleston, S.C. and New York-based food writers Matt and Ted Lee, who often freelance for Travel + Leisure, Bon Appetit and The New York Times. They have their own recollections of Princess Pamela that they'd like to build on. "As Pamela is famously elusive, they are casting a wide net trying to find any definitive details."
You may email the writers here.
Here's one remembrance from blogger Mangozeen:
Princess Pamela had a well-deserved reputation for orneriness. After ringing the buzzer, she checked you out and a woman in a white nurse's dress came to get you and walk you up to the restaurant that looked like it had been a railroad apartment. On a good night Pamela would drunkenly sing along with the jazz quartet. Their shining glory was a prominently displayed picture of Jackie Kennedy. I lived across the street. My hillbilly girlfriend and I went a few times. Once we climbed the stairs. Princess Pamela took a look at us she said, "We're full." I peeked inside. There wasn't a soul in the room, but she said, "Come back tomorrow." And we did.
