When you look at the food scene in New York City, you see big brands, famous chefs, and high-end spots. But every now and then, someone comes along who changes things in a warm, human way. Harris Mayer-Selinger is one of those people. He didn’t just build restaurants. He built ideas, feelings, and memories through simple American food, Jewish flavors, and strong relationships with local farms.
You may know his work even if you haven’t heard his name. If you ever tried a fresh burger or a rich milkshake at Creamline inside Chelsea Market, you’ve already tasted part of his journey. And if you ever came across the fun and joyful name Pulkies, the Jewish-style BBQ everyone was talking about during the pandemic, you’ve seen another side of his story.
In this Article, we will explore the early pieces of his path — how he grew, what shaped him, and why his food speaks to people. Everything connects to simple ideas: real ingredients, good people, and a strong sense of heritage.
Who Is Harris Mayer-Selinger?
Harris Mayer-Selinger grew up in Port Washington, New York. He later moved to New York City, where he started building his life, his ideas, and his career. Even early on, you can see how much he loved food, people, and culture.
He studied Hospitality Management at Cornell University, and then went on to the Culinary Institute of America, where he trained in culinary arts. These schools shaped his skills, but his real growth came from the restaurants where he worked. He cooked in Hundred Acres, Five Points, and other kitchens in New York, Las Vegas, and even Taiwan. Each place taught him something new about flavor, teamwork, and the rhythms of kitchen life.
But there’s another side of Harris Mayer-Selinger that many people admire. He has always been open about mental health. He has been in therapy since he was 16, and he uses his own story to support people who work in hospitality. He believes leaders should help their teams with both work and life. As he often says, “Being a good person is good business.”
How Creamline Began: A Simple Idea With Big Heart
One of the most important chapters in his journey is Creamline, a warm, friendly spot serving American classics. But Creamline is more than a restaurant. It’s a partnership, a dream, and a connection to real ingredients.
Harris worked closely with Ronnybrook Farm Dairy, a family-owned farm in Ancramdale, New York. Ronnybrook didn’t just supply milk and ice cream. They became a true partner — helping shape the food, the story, and even the restaurant’s name. “Creamline” comes from Ronnybrook’s famous non-homogenized milk, where a rich line of cream rises to the top.
Harris always believed in “farm-to-tray,” a simple idea that food tastes better when you know where it comes from. That’s why Creamline also works with Dickson’s Farmstand Meats, right inside Chelsea Market. Their beef is pasture-raised, dry-aged, and full of flavor. And Harris brings all of this into simple items like burgers, fries, floats, and milkshakes, using only real ingredients and no extra fluff.
The open kitchen makes customers feel connected. You can watch your burger cooking right in front of you. You see the shakes being blended with Ronnybrook ice cream. Everything feels personal, warm, and honest.
Bringing Comfort Food to Two Different Neighborhoods
When Creamline opened inside Chelsea Market, it quickly became a favorite. Tourists from around the world lined up for burgers and shakes. The energy was exciting, but Harris always wondered: What about the locals? What about the people who live here every day and want simple, good food they can trust?
So Creamline opened a second location at 180 Seventh Avenue. Even though it’s only a 15-minute walk from the original spot, the vibe is completely different. Chelsea Market is fast, lively, and full of travelers. Seventh Avenue is quieter and more local. Harris loved seeing neighbors become regulars, and seeing how the same food could create two different feelings.
Everything was designed around simplicity: simple prices, simple flavors, simple joy. That’s why people love Creamline’s $15 Chelsea Combo, or their vanilla shake made with only cream, milk, vanilla, and sugar.
As Harris explains, when someone orders a burger, they want to taste beef — not spices covering it. And when someone orders a float, they want to taste real ice cream and soda, not artificial flavors. That’s why Creamline’s food feels clean, fresh, and honest.
The Road to Something New: How Pulkies Was Born
Just when things seemed steady, the world changed. During the pandemic, restaurants shut down, and kitchens went silent. But Harris Mayer-Selinger saw something others didn’t — opportunity inside the challenge.
Creamline’s kitchen was sitting empty. Delivery apps were becoming the main way people got food. And Harris was thinking about his Jewish identity, his family recipes, and the flavors of holidays like Passover and Rosh Hashanah.
This is when the idea for Pulkies arrived.
But this part of the story — the exciting birth of Jewish-style BBQ in New York — deserves its own space.
The Rise of Pulkies: A New Kind of Jewish-Style BBQ
When the world went quiet during the pandemic, kitchens everywhere shut down. But inside the silent Creamline kitchen, a new idea was starting to grow. Harris Mayer-Selinger looked at the empty space and thought, “Maybe this can become something new.” He knew people were ordering food from home. He knew delivery was now the center of the food world. And he also knew that he wanted to share more of his own story.
This is where Pulkies began — inside a time of stress, worry, and change. But the idea itself came from joy, memory, and culture. The word “pulkies” is a sweet Yiddish term many Jewish families use to describe a baby’s soft, chubby thighs. It’s also used for the plump drumsticks on kosher turkey. When Harris asked his Jewish friends about the word, they smiled with love. Almost everyone said it made them think of warm homes, family meals, and old-school Jewish food.
That feeling was exactly what he wanted to bring into the world.
Turning Tradition Into Something New
Even though he grew up Jewish, Harris Mayer-Selinger had never heard the word “pulkies” before. His business partner, Tal Simantov, told him about it. Tal’s wife, Abby, also loved the word and believed it would touch people. The meaning felt warm and joyful, and it fit perfectly with Harris’ plan to build something personal.
But the first idea was to create a Jewish deli, and Harris quickly said no. He laughed and said, “I don’t know anything about making pastrami.” He didn’t want to force himself into something he didn’t feel connected to. Instead, he thought about the foods his mother made for holidays. Roast turkey. Brisket. Warm family dishes.
Then a simple thought changed everything:
“These are the same meats you find in Texas-style barbecue.”
From that moment, the idea for Jewish-style BBQ was born. It wasn’t a copy of classic BBQ. It wasn’t a deli. It was something new — a mix of Jewish comfort food, American barbecue traditions, and Harris’ own memories.
How the Menu Came Together
Once Harris had the idea, the menu almost wrote itself. He said he built the rough menu in just one hour. Some dishes stayed. Some changed. But the heart of the food came from one clear love: turkey.
He always believed turkey is underrated. The dark meat is richer than chicken. The flavor is warm and deep. He loved the idea of using the whole bird — every part. That’s why Pulkies has items like:
- Comb-to-tail turkey skewers
- Crispy turkey gribenes
- Turkey wings with hot honey
- Turkey neck braised with kale
- Tender turkey oysters from the backbone
He also added brisket, because brisket sits right between two worlds — Texas-style BBQ and old family recipes passed down from Jewish grandmothers. Food writers like Leah Koenig praised this mix and said Pulkies was part of a new, exciting trend in Jewish cooking.
With every dish, Pulkies showed how heritage and BBQ could come together in a fresh way.
A Pandemic Problem Turned Into a Smart Idea
Opening a restaurant during the pandemic sounded impossible. Hundreds of places in New York City closed forever. But Harris Mayer-Selinger believed Pulkies could work. He didn’t need a new kitchen. He didn’t need a big dining room. He could start right inside Creamline’s kitchen using a delivery-only model.
It was simple, smart, and low-cost.
Delivery apps like Grubhub and Seamless finally lowered their fees, which helped new brands survive. People wanted comfort food at home. They wanted warm meals that felt like family. And Pulkies gave them exactly that.
Soon, orders started coming in. Food writers noticed. Jewish families noticed. Even people who had never tried Jewish food before became fans.
Harris had turned a crisis into a creative moment.
Growing Into Something Bigger
Because Pulkies worked so well, it didn’t stay a delivery-only brand for long. Harris planned a new Creamline location in Brooklyn’s DeKalb Market, and right after that, Pulkies would get its own space. A real home. A real kitchen. A place where Harris could grow the menu and serve full meals — often called “meat and three,” meaning a main dish with three comforting sides.
With a full kitchen, he could expand dishes, try more ideas, and bring more Ashkenazi flavors to the table. This wasn’t just a side project anymore. He said, “Pulkies is the culmination of me as a chef and as a person.”
For Harris, Pulkies wasn’t just about food. It was about culture, identity, and sharing a story with the world. In his words, it was a way to “spread the gospel” — not in a religious way, but in a warm, cultural way that celebrates heritage.
Why Harris Mayer-Selinger Matters Today
In the fast-moving world of New York restaurants, many places open and close without leaving a mark. But Harris Mayer-Selinger continues to stand out because he builds places that feel human. He believes in good ingredients. He believes in local farms like Ronnybrook Farm Dairy and Dickson’s Farmstand Meats. He believes in supporting team members with care and empathy.
He also brings together worlds that usually stay separate — American classics, Jewish comfort food, Ashkenazi roots, barbecue traditions, and farm-to-table ideas. This mix makes his restaurants feel warm, honest, and real.
Creamline shows how simple food can still be special.
Pulkies shows how culture can turn into something exciting.
And Hospitality Made Simple shows how leadership can shape the future of the hospitality industry.
Even now, Harris Mayer-Selinger keeps building, improving, and dreaming. His story reminds us that food is not just food. It is memory. It is identity. It is a way to care for people. And in a busy city like New York, that message matters more than ever.
Final Thoughts
The journey of Harris Mayer-Selinger is a story about heart, heritage, courage, and creativity. From Creamline’s farm-to-tray classics to Pulkies’ joyful Jewish-style BBQ, he brings meaning into every recipe. His work shows how simple food can still carry big feelings and how culture can shape a whole menu.
As he continues to grow his restaurants and his role as a leader, one thing stays clear: good food comes from good people, strong roots, and honest care. And that is exactly what Harris brings to New York City every single day.
