A Political Insider Who Knows His Way Around the Holiday Buffet Table

Yana Paskova for The New York Times Alan Flacks, center, a political activist from the Upper West Side, spends much of the holiday season attending parties hosted by local political clubs in order to partake of the free food.

Alan Flacks got the inside tip from a law clerk.

“There's a beautiful ham on one side, and great Swedish meatballs on the other,” the law clerk said.

This was no courtroom sidebar but rather a sidewalk encounter outside a holiday party being held by the Broadway Democrats political club in a West 111th Stre et apartment building in Manhattan recently.

Mr. Flacks, 70, had walked up from his rent-controlled apartment on West 100th Street. Naturally he had not eaten. A big reason anyone goes to these parties â€" as Mr. Flacks can attest â€" is the food, which is free and usually good and plentiful.

It was certainly true at this party. Inside, elected officials and club members gathered around a large buffet table. Within moments of entering, Mr. Flacks was sampling the ham - the meatballs were gone - and making the rounds, chatting with politicians, including Scott Stringer, the Manhattan Borough president.

On the Upper West Side, Mr. Flacks is well known as a gadfly, activist and political junkie who publishes a regular newsletter â€" a feat, given that he does not own a computer and often works with a borrowed cell phone.

A lifelong bachelor, Mr. Flacks is trained as a lawyer, but devotes his time to unpaid activism, and live s off a modest savings. Of course, volunteer activism has its perks, and this time of year there are many holiday parties held by political clubs in Manhattan, and they offer plenty of food.

Drinking and networking are popular at these parties, but Mr. Flacks, a frugal man with a keen palate (and a non-drinker), keeps close tabs on the food. In fact most of his meals come from a buffet table, on a paper plate with a side of politics.

“There's no need to go to the supermarket except for fresh milk,” said Mr. Flacks, whose political newsletter, “The Flacks Report,” is sent to an e-mail list of about 300 people, mostly in the news media and in political circles in Manhattan. In December it turns into an information sheet on parties, including names of restaurants and whether there is a fee (there rarely is). In November, club officials often ask Mr. Flacks to publish their party information. Even elected officials contact him, asking for party information, h e said.

“Schumer's office called me the other day asking me about the Three Parks party,” he said, referring to Senator Charles E. Schumer, and the name of Mr. Flacks' political club, the Three Parks Independent Democrats, which held its party in early December with a big buffet table and a bigger open bar. “I told them, ‘You missed it by two weeks.'”

Clubs usually send out invitations to members, and rely on word-of-mouth to attract non-members in the hopes of coaxing them into joining.

“The more people, the better your food, the more honor and glory you get,” said Mr. Flacks. “They want new members. They want to be popular. And of course, they're hoping the big shot politicians come.''

Mr. Flacks is out every night in December. One recent weeknight he went to a party hosted by Prime New York, a political consulting firm in Greenwich Village.

“Let's see: chicken breast in cream sauce, baked ziti, shepard's pie,” said Mr. Fl acks recounting the buffet like a waiter reciting the daily specials. After that party, he and others stopped in to another party for dessert, which Mr. Flacks said were “regular Christmas cookies.”

One another weeknight, Mr. Flacks popped into a party hosted by the Lenox Hill Democratic Club at a Second Avenue bar and said hello to Councilwoman Jessica Lappin. The food â€" mostly fried bar snacks, by the time he arrived - was all gone. Mr. Flacks had filled himself at an earlier party anyway. He walked a block away to a restaurant where the Lexington Democratic Club was holding its party. He said hello to United States Rep. Carolyn B. Maloney and tried to order a soda at the bar but the bartender told him that the open bar had ended. Mr. Flacks complained to several club members that it was outrageous to be charged for a soft drink at a political holiday party. Soon he had the soda in his hand.

“The club president got it for me,” he said, and went back to schmoozing.