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Food distribution

Delicious Apples: Department of Public Markets Photographs

The initial inquiry arrived via email in July 2024. The correspondent, a representative from the O’Malley family in Los Angeles, California, asked if the Municipal Archives would be interested in a collection of photographs that depicted public markets in New York City during the 1920s. The photographs had been in the personal files of Edwin J. O’Malley, Commissioner of the Department of Public Markets from 1919 through 1926. The representative said the photographs had been passed on to Edwin O’Malley’s son, Walter O’Malley, former owner of the Dodgers baseball team.

Edwin J. O’Malley, Commissioner, Department of Public Markets with fruit vendor, 1922. Photographer: Jack Sussman. Department of Public Markets Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

City archivists replied in the affirmative, and the collection arrived at the Municipal Archives shortly thereafter. There are approximately 200 prints in the group, ranging in size from small snapshots to large-format 8x10 prints. Most are in good condition. The pictures document public markets throughout New York City during the 1920s; the bulk are dated July 1922.

Farm to City

Getting food from farmers to New York City residents has been a concern of the municipal government from the earliest days of colonial settlement. Two For the Record articles, From Marketfield to the Greenmarket, Part I, and From Marketfield to the Greenmarket, Part II: The Market Man, explored the history of this essential service from the Dutch and English colonial periods through the 19th century. In 1918, the “Bureau of Markets,” first established in 1850 as part of the Department of Streets and Lamps, and later under the Finance Department, became a separate agency, Department of Public Markets.

Thompson Street Market, at Spring Street, Manhattan, July 1922. Department of Public Markets Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Mayor John F. Hylan appointed Edwin J. O’Malley as Commissioner of the Department of Public Markets on December 3, 1919. Mayor Hylan’s papers in the Municipal Archives provide good documentation of how Commissioner O’Malley helped set in motion Hylan’s plans to modernize the City’s food distribution system.

Annual Report of the Commissioner of Public Markets, Edwin J. O’Malley, 1923. Mayor John Hylan Records Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Hylan correspondence files include a copy of Commissioner O’Malley’s 1923 Report to the Mayor. O’Malley referenced Hylan’s “early farm life” and acknowledged how the Mayor had “set about cleaning the Augean stables of waste and corruption which had for years cluttered the path to a successful handling of the food problem.”

O’Malley’s report went on to detail the “food problem” and the strides toward its solution made under his leadership. Some of the photographs in the donated collection appeared in the 1923 report. It seems likely that Commissioner O’Malley commissioned the pictures to depict conditions “before” his planned improvements to the market system.

O’Malley’s 1923 Report supplies ample statistical data to illustrate “...the immensity of the City’s food problem.” For example, “About 40,000,000 chickens, turkeys, geese and ducks come into the city markets in a year.” Average daily consumption of other foods included 664,000 pounds of butter, 2,093,425 pounds of white potatoes, 209,562 pounds of sweet potatoes, and 1,302,986 pounds of apples, etc. Additionally, “New York City consumes more than 3,000,000 quarts of milk every day, drawn from over 40,000 farms... located in seven neighboring states... some even from over the Canadian border.” Plus, “New York City eats more than 1,250,000 loaves of bread daily and about 9,000,000 eggs.”

The Hot Loaf Baking Company market, ca. 1922. Photographer: Byron Studio. Department of Public Markets Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Although these are certainly big numbers, they are reasonable given the City’s population of six million in the 1920s. What is more remarkable, perhaps, is the way in which the food made its way from farms to City tables at that time—via railroad. “The fact is that 1,300 or more carloads of eatables enter the City every day,” according to the Report.

Revenue Chart, Department of Public Markets, 1923. Mayor John Hylan Records Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Commissioner O’Malley went on to write that “the terminal markets will be an added incentive to the development of motor trucking from farms and producers within a radius of 80 to 100 miles of the City.” His prediction that this would result in “...a tremendous increase... in the number of motor trucks which will bring the products of the farms into the City of New York,” proved true over the ensuing decades.

Plan for Bronx Terminal Market, Department of Public Markets, ca. 1923. Municipal Library.

Edwin J. O’Malley’s term as Commissioner of the Department of Public Markets ended with the election of Mayor James J. Walker in November 1925. On December 23, 1925, one week before his departure from civil service, O’Malley wrote a detailed four-page letter to Mayor Hylan describing the many accomplishments of his five years as Commissioner. “In conclusion,” he wrote, “the success of this department is now an assured fact; and not only is this true of it as a revenue producer, but also in the advancement made toward solving the problem of food supply and its distribution.” Edwin O’Malley died on April 10, 1953, at age 69.

Commissioner O’Malley’s Public Market photographs are a valuable addition to the Municipal Archives collection. They are slated for processing and digitization in the near future. In the meantime, researchers are invited to examine Municipal Library and Archives collections to explore the long and fascinating history of New Yorkers and their food markets.

Food vendors with police officer, location unknown, ca. 1922. Department of Public Markets Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Washington Market, Manhattan, ca. 1910. Department of Public Markets Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Callan’s Baby Carriage Entrance, 121st Street, ca. 1922. Department of Public Markets Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

East Houston Street Market, at Orchard Street, July 1922. Department of Public Markets Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Orchard Street Market, between East Houston and Stanton Streets, Manhattan, July 1922. Department of Public Markets Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Eighth Avenue Market, at 143rd Street, Manhattan, July 1922. Department of Public Markets Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Fifth Avenue Market, at 134th Street, July 1922. Department of Public Markets Photograph Collection.

Manhattan Avenue Market, Manhattan Avenue and Siegel Street, Brooklyn, July 1922. Department of Public Markets Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

From Marketfield to the Greenmarket, Part II: The Market Man

This is Part 2 of a series. Read Part 1

Thomas F. De Voe in his Jefferson Market butcher stall. Frontispiece to The Market Assistant, 1867. Robert Hinshelwood, from a sketch by T.F. De Voe. Courtesy New York Public Library.

From the earliest days of the Dutch colonial settlement, butchers were at the top of the market hierarchy and their profession was tightly regulated. By the 1800s, their status was signaled by their attire, as they had taken to wearing tall top hats and tails as part of their work outfit—a look that might be familiar from the character of “Bill the Butcher” in the film Gangs of New York. In the 1850s, a well-respected Jefferson Market butcher by the name of Thomas F. De Voe, by his telling, was searching for something to do in his leisure hours. An officer of the 8th Regiment with an interest in military history, he visited the New-York Historical Society and was “bitten by a rabid antiquary.”[1] Discovering the Records and Files of the Common Council [now held by the Municipal Archives] he realized that they contained a wealth of historical information about his profession. (In actuality, he may have been conducting research to better represent himself and other butchers in regulatory matters.)

Petition of Thomas F. De Voe, Butcher, 1854. Board of Alderman, Approved Papers. NYC Municipal Archives. De Voe petitioned the Committee on Markets in 1849 and again in 1854 detailing what he saw as actions by the Superintendent of Markets that undercut the value of his stall. He later had a printed version of his 1854 petition produced but the Market Committee files include his handwritten copy and pages of his testimony before the Boards of Aldermen and Councilmen of the City.

Encouraged by the Historical Society librarian to write a paper on the subject of markets, De Voe soon entered the circle of mid-19th century historians who were preserving the history of the City, including D.T. Valentine, Clerk of the City, and E.B. O’Callaghan, who was busy translating the Dutch records of New Amsterdam. After a well-received 1858 presentation of his paper at Cooper Union, De Voe published in 1862 The Market Book: Containing a historical account of the public markets of the cities of New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Brooklyn with a brief description of every article of human food sold therein, the introduction of cattle in America, and notices of many remarkable specimens. For its time, it is a masterpiece of research. Drawing on his own experiences and using the writings of O’Callaghan and Adrian Van der Donck for Dutch history, and the records of the Common Council for colonial history, he detailed every bit of minutia on markets from the 1600s to the 1800s. The scholarly respect was mutual, as D.T. Valentine commissioned him to write a history of the “Old Fly Market Butchers” for his manual of 1868. Only volume 1 of the Market Book, on the public markets of New York, was published, but in 1866 De Voe published a paper Abattoirs and in 1867 he published The Market Assistant, containing a brief description of every article of human food sold in the public markets of the cities of New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Brooklyn including the various domestic and wild animals, poultry, game, fish, vegetables, fruits, &c., &c. with many curious incidents and anecdotes. It included several engravings from sketches by De Voe, including a frontispiece of the man himself in his shop.

The original Fulton Market buildings, Fulton Street and Market, 1828. George Hayward for D.T. Valentine’s Manual of 1854. NYC Municipal Library.

Petition for a new market at Fulton-Slip, 1821. Common Council Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Petition against the removal of the Fly Market, 1821. Common Council Papers, NYC Municipal Archives.

Catharine Market, 1850. George Hayward for D.T. Valentine’s Manual for 1857. NYC Municipal Library.

De Voe’s descriptions are rich in details not just of food but in character studies. One of his most-cited passages is his description of “dancing for eels” at the Catharine Market.[2] The Catharine Market started in the late 18th Century as a humble butcher shed. Later a fishmonger’s stall was added, but in 1799 a petition was submitted for “a new and enlarged market-house.”[3] The elegant market-house was finished the following year and it became known for its Sunday eel market and as an ethnic mixing place. In the waning days of slavery in New York, enslaved African Americans from towns in Long Island, on leave for holidays such as pinkster, would sell whatever they could gather at the Catharine Market. To make a few shillings more, they would sometimes dance on a thin board or “shingle” for coins or pieces of eel at the close of the market. As these dances became a more frequent tradition, competitors from New Jersey, after dropping the farmer’s produce at the westside Bear Market would hurry over to compete. After a time, free African American residents of Manhattan came to the market to dance as well, and “if money was not to be had ‘they would dance for a bunch of eels or fish.’”[4] This tradition of “dancing for eels,” with competitive dance circles that would be familiar to the modern eye, had a long-lasting influence on dance. A popular mid-century play New York As It Is included a minstrel Dancing for Eels scene, which in turn inspired several lithographs, further cementing it in American culture. Some scholars suggest that tap dance was born here at the Catharine Market from a mix of African and Irish dance traditions. Dance steps developed here can still be seen today in modern hip-hop styles.[5]

The Ground Plan of the Fourteen Markets of the City of New-York, July 1st, 1835. Common Council Market Committee, NYC Municipal Archives. The number of markets in New York City doubled in the early 19th Century, and two new large-scale markets appeared. The Fulton Market was established in 1822 to replace the old Fly Market, but a new market building (shown here) was built in the 1830s. Washington Market in Tribeca was erected in 1813, with expansions in the 1820s and 1834 making it the largest wholesale market in the City. These markets were joined by Grand Street, Greenwich, Gouverneur, Centre, Essex, Franklin, Manhattan, Clinton, Tompkins, and Jefferson Markets. The Monroe Market would replace the Grand Street in 1836, and the Harlem Market was established in 1838, although De Voe notes a butcher shed stood at 120th Street and Third Avenue since 1807.

In 1872 Thomas De Voe gave up his butcher stall to become Superintendent of Markets under the reform-minded comptroller Andrew Haswell Green. The following year he produced a Report upon the present condition of the public markets of the city and county of New York. His report to Green would present “historical incidents as regards the age of the present market buildings; their past mode of management or mismanagement…” in his typically colorful language. He detailed the thirteen markets then active in the City: Washington, West Washington, Fulton, Centre, Clinton, Catherine, Jefferson, Tompkins, Essex, Union, Gouvernour, Franklin, and the 18th Ward Market.[6]

View of Washington Market, Fulton and Washington Street, 1859. D.T. Valentine’s Manual, 1859. NYC Municipal Library.

De Voe first addressed the largest market, the Washington, located between Greenwich, Fulton, West and Vesey streets. De Voe found the state of the market to be “generally in bad order and very much out of repair…. The two-story building on Washington Street (which had formerly sustained the fire-bell in its tower) was imminently dangerous, being in a condition at any moment to fall in and crush all beneath.” Under the floors he found that “black stagnant mud, water, animal and vegetable putrefactions had become detrimental to health and life.” The market was overseen by three “worse-than-useless officials…” who De Voe fired and replaced with “two efficient men” who were able to seize unwholesome food and suspend cheating vendors. He also installed proper sewage, drainpipes and three hydrants to better fight fires and to flush away waste.[7]

New Fish Market, New York City, ca. 1869. Theo. R. Davis, retrieved from the Library of Congress. In 1869 the Fulton Fishmonger’s Association built a new waterfront market opposite the existing Fulton Market where boats could unload their catches directly into the market.

De Voe found similar levels of disrepair and corruption throughout the markets and seems to have attacked the problems with a reformer’s zeal. Catharine Market, once charming, was long neglected and had large holes in the roof. He fixed the holes but stated whenever he looked at the “rusty fronts, roofs and side, their framed windows, doors and other woodwork, I can imagine that I can hear or feel grating on my senses the sound paint! paint!!—paint me!!!”[8] The Jefferson Market, De Voe’s former place of business, was similarly distressed, but work was already underway on the courthouse that would replace it.

Pushcart peddlers in the Lower East Side, ca. 1890. Hand-colored glass lantern slide. Department of Street Cleaning collection, NYC Municipal Archives. After the Civil War, the population of New York increased dramatically, putting enormous stress on the existing markets. As always happened, unlicensed vendors filled both a commercial need and a desire for the ethnic foods of immigrants.

More generally De Voe was concerned with the quality of food coming into the city, especially animals that had been distressed before slaughter or improperly killed. In 1866 the New York State Legislature had created the Metropolitan Board of Health. One of their first targets were outdated market regulations, particularly with regards to butchers and slaughterhouses.[9] Animal slaughtering and processing had already so polluted the Collect Pond that it was drained and filled with landfill in 1811, but the carting of offal and animal hides across town to the candle makers or tanneries was a source of increasing complaints as the more fashionable residents of the city pushed uptown. De Voe worked with the Board of Health to seize animals or meat not fit for market. The markets themselves and the surrounding unlicensed vendors also presented an enormous daily challenge to street cleaning. Numerous 19th Century laws tried to tackle the issue, such as requiring vendors to keep a trash bin at their stalls.

De Voe also called for more oversight to protect the public from “improper and unwholesome” food, better market buildings, and a reining in of unlicensed stalls and pushcarts. Pushcart vendors first appeared on Hester Street in 1866, setting up informal markets. The problem of pushcarts would only grow in the 20th century, with new waves of immigration, to the consternation of a succession of mayors.

De Voe was removed as superintendent in 1876 but reappointed in 1881. He finally retired from City service in 1883, but he continued to lecture on New York history and published a book on the genealogy of the Devaux family. When he died in 1892 the New York Times called him “one of the best known of the old New-Yorkers.”[10]

After De Voe’s retirement, the enormous open-air Gansevoort Market was officially sanctioned in 1884, and in 1889 the City built a new West Washington Market building to replace older buildings used for meat, poultry and dairy. By 1900 the area housed over 250 slaughterhouses and packing plants, earning the name the Meat Packing District.

Photograph showing a portion of the present Gansevoort and West Washington Market, ca. 1912. Brief and Plans for a New West Washington and Gansevoort Market. NYC Municipal Library. In the mid-1800s, meat and produce increasingly came into the city through freight trains and ships. In 1854 a freight depot had opened at Gansevoort and West Streets, and many vendors from the old Washington Market set up stalls near the depot.

In Brooklyn, an informal farmers market that gathered near the Navy Yard consisted of some rough sheds by 1884. The City of Brooklyn decided to grace this market with grand market halls and a prominent clock tower designed in the Dutch Colonial Revival style by William Tubby, who had just completed several buildings for the Pratt Institute. Wallabout Market, looking like a fairy-tale village, was completed in 1896, one of the last hurrahs of the independent City of Brooklyn before the consolidation of 1898. That consolidation and the increasing needs of a growing city would change the ways the City dealt with markets. However, it would be well into the 20th Century for the City to finally implement many of the market reforms that De Voe had called for.

Wallabout Market, 1896. Retrieved from the Library of Congress.

Part III coming soon.

  • [1] De Voe, Thomas F. The Market Book, 1862.

  • [2] Ibid, pp. 344-345.

  • [3] Ibid, p. 342

  • [4] Ibid, p. 344-345.

  • [5] Lhamon, W.T., Raising Cain: Blackface Performance from Jim Crow to Hip Hop, 2002.

  • [6] De Voe, Thomas F., Report upon the present condition of the public markets of the city and county of New York, 1873.

  • [7] Ibid, pp. 4-5

  • [8] Ibid, p. 15.

  • [9] Day, Jared N., Butchers, Tanners, and Tallow Chandlers: The Geography of Slaughtering in Early Nineteenth-Century New York City.

  • [10] New York Times Obituary, Thomas F. De Voe, February 2, 1892.

From Marketfield to the Greenmarket, Part I

Supplying a diverse and teeming city with fresh food has been a constant problem in New York. Farmers’ Markets, which have undergone a resurgence in recent years, are nothing new. In the early days of New Amsterdam, farmers and Native Americans simply brought their crops to town and set about hawking them, usually along the bank of the East River, known as the Strand. While references exist as early as 1648 to “market days” and an annual harvest “Free Market,” the process was unregulated and inefficient. Peter Stuyvesant, the Director General and the Council recognized this….

One banana, two banana, three banana, four…

Answers to questions frequently asked about Bananas, United Fruit Company, ca. 1940. WPA Federal Writers’ Project collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Municipal Archives contains one remaining scrapbook documenting food consumption, availability and recipes during the LaGuardia Administration. The volume is a compendium of yellowing clippings from newspapers, one layered on top of the other, covering the period of August 1942 to August 1943. It is titled, “Food News.”

It’s an interesting mish-mash of aging newsprint of various sizes with intriguing headlines and odd reporting. It takes a while to browse through because sometimes the stories on the reverse side of the clippings are equally as interesting as the food reporting. The volume isn’t part of the Works Progress Administration files that are the subject of our Feeding the City exhibit. But so much of the content gathered by the Federal Writers Project staff is echoed in the scrapbook. And the news stories quote some of the same sources used by the WPA writers. Much of the information seems odd.

Take corn, for example. 

Corn brochure, WPA Federal Writers’ Project collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The World’s Largest Grain Crop is U.S. Corn touts one headline. 

Old-Style Corn to Spruce Up states another atop a story by Clementine Paddleford detailing how a commercial bakery was producing a new corn bread, richer than the corn pone of the old West.

Food prices throughout the country, and certainly in New York, fluctuated a great deal. A bulletin issued by the United States Bureau of Labor Statistics in 1942 attributed several shortages of fresh fruit and vegetables to three factors: high consumer demand, heavy purchasing by the U. S. government and poor crops for some items. Another factor would have been pricing. In part to make food more generally available at affordable prices, the Office of Price Administration established price controls. The bulletin stated, “Among the fresh fruits and vegetables price control was first extended to bananas in May, 1942.” Price controls on citrus, potatoes and onions soon followed in October, 1942. Prunes, it turns out, were not generally available to the public because the crop was earmarked for military consumption.

Recipe booklet, WPA Federal Writers’ Project collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The nation really got its first glimpse of the banana at the 1876 Philadelphia Centennial, which also was the first World’s Fair to be held in the U.S.A. Taking the country by storm the banana was considered a staple by 1910. By 1937, the country imported ten million bananas annually, “a banana and a half each week of the year for every man, woman and child,” according to the Sun. And by 1942, New Yorkers were dismayed first by the cost and then by the dearth of this favored fruit.

The Salem News from Salem, Ohio, reported on the situation, with a dateline from New York City on April 29, 1942. Quoting the 1923 song, “Yes We Have No Bananas” the squib stated that bananas were priced at an ungodly nine cents apiece or five cents for a totally bruised item. Using pidgin English in the text (not replicated below), it quoted a vendor who had specialized in bananas but had begun to sell other fruits as well and who feared he would need to expand to vegetables. “Phooey,” the vendor retorted, blaming the shortage on the war. “They tell me it’s the shipping. The ships go down. Down go the banan(a). But the price, she is up.” (Interestingly, and unrelated to bananas, the paper included a photo of then-Crown Princess Elizabeth, all of 16 years old, signing up for national service and wearing her girl guide uniform.)

The scrapbook documents a food problem during August 1942: the banana shortage.

It starts with the household “Marketing Guide,” published in the Herald Tribune on August 14, 1942. The list did not include bananas among the available fruits for sale in the City. The next day, a headline in the Eagle blared,

Astoria Cops Hunt for Bananas, But Find Only 23 for Ailing Infant

“Virtually every policeman on duty in the Astoria Precinct spent last night in a store-by-store and restaurant-to-restaurant search for bananas for a 21-month old boy suffering from a rare disease, celiac, and today they turned in a total of 23, all they were able to locate.” The officers were attempting to help a Manhattan mother who had been searching for the fruit in vain but heard there might be help in Astoria.

Bronx Terminal Market, Wholesale Stores, 1935. NYC Municipal Archives collection

She was not alone. Another episode concerned a young child in Providence, Rhode Island who also suffered from celiac, which required a banana diet. The call went out. Markets were scoured. And Brooklyn came to the rescue. Sixteen bananas were located at a fruit stand and were sent by air express from LaGuardia to Providence. The New York Times cautioned, “Assurance that persons needing bananas for medicinal purposes only may obtain them without the necessity of scouring the city came last night from the American Banana Corporation at Pier 2, Bronx Terminal Market, the largest banana jobbers in this area. A spokesman for the concern said a small supply of the fruit always was kept on hand for medicinal uses and could be obtained easily if the demand was legitimate.”

The New York Sun got to the bottom of the issue in its August 18, 1942 edition:

Map of banana trade routes, ca. 1940. WPA Federal Writers’ Project collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Bananas Spoil and Die on Stem

War Has Laid Its Deadly Hand on Importation

The problem, they reported, was that ships that formerly carried bananas were carrying war materials. As the number one fruit imported into the United States, the banana was not only tasty but also “an important force for good neighborliness in the Americas.” One must wonder if this slant was influenced by the two major companies that grew and imported bananas—United Fruit and Standard Fruit (now Dole). As the titans in so-called banana republics, the notion of their monopolies leading to hemispheric friendship was part of a public relations campaign. The same story, word-for- word, was also published in the Independent Grocer on August 21st.

One can only imagine the joyous shouts from readers of an August 25, 1942 report in the New York Times. For the first time in several weeks, two shipments of bananas were scheduled to arrive in New York.

 Bananas Reaching South Brought Here By Truck

August 25, 1942 report in the New York Times. Mayor LaGuardia collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

264 Washington Street, ca. 1940. Sal Traina’s wholesale shop received an emergency shipment of 24,000 lbs of bananas in 1942. Department of Finance Tax Photo Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In another clipping, a New York Tribune food column extolled a new development: the availability of dehydrated bananas.

Answers to questions frequently asked about Bananas, United Fruit Company, ca. 1940. WPA Federal Writers’ Project collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

“Consider the banana. No longer do numberless hands of the brown flecked yellow banana decorate the shopfronts. Once in a while we see them and we feel warm toward them like friends returned…. The packages of dried bananas, now sold in one-pound sizes, contain between fifteen and eighteen whole bananas; the cost is about one-half the price of the fresh fruit. They taste like bananas, but concentrated in flavor and fig-like in texture. They can be simmered in water and served with cream. They can be cut up and served in salad or eaten plain. A luxury at the moment. They will have wide distribution soon.”

By September, bananas were not so newsworthy. The last clip on the topic for the month, a “special cable” to the New York Times on August 28, reports on the end of banana contracts.

United Fruit Acts in Costa Rica Because of War Conditions

The company cancelled all contracts with growers in Costa Rica because of shipping issues.

There were no bananas that day.

The Food Problem: 1918

In government, what is done when a problem is identified? A Committee is formed. This is not a new thought. One of the items recently unearthed in the Municipal Library is a pamphlet entitled “Report of The Food Problem Committee.” This sparked immediate questions: what was the food problem to be resolved? Who was on the Committee? What solutions were offered? How did it work out?

OSZAR »