When I came across 23 Williams Street in Manhattan, I thought I was in a time warp. Was it the same Delmonico’s that Oscar Wilde raved about, pairing it with the Yosemite Valley as ‘two of the most remarkable bits of scenery in the States’? Was it the same Delmonico’s that coaxed the home-bound detective Nero Wolfe from his West Side apartment?
I could look it up and settle the matter, but I preferred to think that I found this elusive historical monument. Like Schrödinger’s cat, it could be anything I wanted as long as I didn’t look into the box. In the case of imagination, ignorance is bliss.
My photo of Delmonico’s Doors:
My loose sepia sketch of Delmonico’s Doors:


