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Ray’s big Night of Persian Delights

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Amanda performs the dance of the veils at the start of her dance for Ray's birthday. Photos by Stacie Joy
Amanda performs the dance of the veils at the start of her dance for Ray’s birthday. Photos by Stacie Joy

BY LINCOLN ANDERSON | Friends and fans of legendary Avenue A egg cream maestro Ray Alvarez “rocked the casbah” for his 84th birthday.

It was pouring rain on Mon., Jan. 23, but that would never have stopped them from crowding into his hole-in-the-wall hot dog haven near E. Seventh St.

Covering the pressed-tin ceiling and the posters for frozen yogurt, burgers and “Obama socks” were sheets of gauzy colored fabric hanging down like a tent, illuminated by the soft, sensual glow of red lights.

It looked more like a bordello than a beignet-and-Belgian fries mecca — and that was the point.

After 10 years of celebrating Ray’s birthday with burlesque dancers jiggling atop his countertop, this year his friends decided to return to Ray’s roots for “A Night of Persian Delights.”

In an immigrant success story that no doubt would make Donald Trump purse his lips in outrage, Ray jumped ship from the Iranian navy to find his American Dream, which eventually led him to the East Village and the soft-serve ice cream hot spot. He was granted amnesty under President Ronald Reagan in the 1980s, only to have the official letter sent to the wrong address, leaving him in limbo for years.

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Amanda shakes things up atop Ray’s countertop.

As everyone — except Trump — seems to know and appreciate, immigrants are always among the hardest workers. And Ray, who has run the store for 43 years, is no exception. He still pulls the overnight shift at the 24-hour java joint — though these days he gets a bit of assistance from a helper.

Ray enjoying the belly dancing.
Ray enjoying the belly dancing.

So, on this night, atop the worn linoleum countertop lay a small Persian rug. Atop the rug, first there was a heaping helping of delicious food from Ravagh Persian Grill, at First Ave. between E. Seventh St. and St. Mark’s Place — steak, chicken and hummus.

Balancing Ray's birthday candles on her head, Amanda contorted herself and did a back bend on the countertop, putting Olympic gymnasts to shame.
Balancing Ray’s birthday candles on her head, Amanda contorted herself and did a back bend on the countertop, putting Olympic gymnasts to shame.

The food was then cleared away to make way for the pièce de résistance — belly dancer Amanda. She did a dance of the two, or possibly three, veils for Ray, then hopped up on the counter. With clicking finger cymbals and sinuous hand movements carving the air, she gyrated, spun and arched her back in a performance that riveted the crowd.

Amanda even tried to get Ray to do a shoulder shimmy.

“Go, Ray! Go, Ray!” called out Eden Brower, who blogs at Slum Goddess and plays ukulele and sings old-time blues in Eden & John’s East River String Band.

Ray got a pig valve replacement and pacemaker for his heart last year. Most of the guys at the “Persian night”— and probably some of the women, too — could have used the same after Amanda’s steamy performance.

After the dancing, came a scrumptious cake — rich chocolate with raspberry filling — from Veniero’s.

Matt Rosen read passages from "The Rubbiyat," by Omar Khayyem, Ray's favorite Persian poet.
Matt Rosen read passages from Ray’s well-worn copy of “The Rubbaiyat,” by Omar Khayyam, Ray’s favorite Persian poet.

Once again, the “Core Four” (plus one) of Ray friends made it all happen. Matt Rosen was the emcee. Shawn Chittle spun the Persian tunes. Ilya Shinkar — along with Eugene “The Poogene,” who has helped man Ray’s counter — were in charge of decor. And Francisco Valera got the all-important cake.

Before the belly dancing, Rosen gave a heartfelt speech about Ray’s meaning to the East Village.

Quoting from “The Rubaiyat,” by Ray’s favorite poet, Omar Khayyam, Rosen said, “Although all religions promise paradise, take care to create your own paradise right here and now on earth.”

“We are all very fortunate,” Rosen told Ray, “that you made this your paradise and that we can share it with you.”

Again quoting Khayyam, Rosen said, “As much as you can avoid it, don’t give grief to anyone.”

The "Core Four, Plus One" with Ray, from left, Ilya Shinkar, Eugene "The Poogeen," Matt Rosen and Shawn Chittle.
Three of the “Core Four,” plus one, with Ray, from left, Ilya Shinkar, Eugene “The Poogeen,” Matt Rosen and Shawn Chittle.

He noted that, on the other hand, Ray spreads a lot of joy, always greeting friends with a hearty call of “Hello, brother!” His equally lusty greeting to women and girls is, “I love you!”

“That really makes Ray special,” Rosen noted. “Most people don’t have that kind of patience.”

After the cake, Ray gave a few words. They were typically humble.

“Everybody has been so nice to me,” he said, as he clasped his hands together. “I don’t think I deserve it.”

“Awww!” everyone couldn’t help but gush as they applauded the lovable merchant.

“I love you!” Ray answered them back.

It was a night of earthly enjoyment, celebrating the joy of life in the moment, among good friends, with great food, dancing and merriment.

Omar Khayyam would surely have approved.