If you were watching Saturday Night Live back in the day and saw Bill Hader—playing the frantic city correspondent Stefon—suddenly lose his mind laughing while mentioning a "Jewish Dracula" named Sidney Applebaum, you probably thought it was just a random, weird name pulled out of a hat. Or maybe you're from the Twin Cities and you did a double-take because you used to buy your milk and eggs from a guy with that exact name.
Honestly, the story of who is Sidney Applebaum is kind of a weird double life. On one hand, he’s a massive inside joke for comedy nerds. On the other, he was a genuine titan of the American grocery industry.
It’s rare that a person becomes a cult pop culture icon and a "Grocer of the Century" at the same time. But Sidney was exactly that.
The Man Who Built an Empire from a Fruit Stand
The real Sidney Applebaum wasn't a fictional punchline. He was born in St. Paul, Minnesota, in 1924, and he basically grew up with a silver scoop in his hand. His dad, Oscar, was a Russian immigrant who started out as a peddler before opening a tiny fruit stand in downtown St. Paul.
Sidney was the youngest of nine kids. Think about that for a second. Nine kids in a house, and everyone is working.
By the time he was a teenager, he was bundling soap and bagging rice. He didn't just inherit a business; he built it with his brothers and brothers-in-law. They turned that single fruit stand into Applebaum’s Food Markets. By the 1970s, they had over 30 stores.
They weren't just "local shops" anymore. They were the dominant force in Minnesota.
From Applebaum's to Rainbow Foods
A lot of people think Sidney just retired after selling the family namesake stores to National Tea Co. in 1979. Nope. The guy couldn't stay away from the aisles. In 1983, he co-founded Rainbow Foods.
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If you lived in Minnesota in the 80s or 90s, Rainbow was a huge deal. It was innovative. It was aggressive. It took a massive chunk of the market share almost overnight.
Sidney was the CEO until 1996. He was so good at what he did that the Minnesota Grocers Association literally named him "Grocer of the Century" in 1997. He was the guy who changed how people shopped in the Midwest. He wasn't some corporate suit who stayed in an office; he was the guy who'd show up at the stores at 4 a.m. to make sure the produce looked right.
Why Does SNL Keep Saying His Name?
So, how did a 90-year-old grocery mogul from Minnesota end up as a recurring joke on Saturday Night Live?
It all goes back to Woody Allen and the specific brand of humor shared by John Mulaney and Bill Hader.
In the 1975 film Love and Death, there’s a scene where a character talks about how history will remember his name. He says, "They call me mad, but one day when the history of France is written, they will mark my name well—Sidney Applebaum!"
The joke is the absurdity. The name "Sidney Applebaum" sounds so incredibly grounded, so suburban, so... well, un-legendary in the context of a Napoleonic-era epic. It’s an anti-joke.
John Mulaney, who wrote the Stefon sketches, was obsessed with this bit. He and Hader used it as a "breaking" tool.
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The Jewish Dracula Incident
In one of the most famous Stefon sketches, Mulaney changed the cue cards right before the live broadcast. Hader thought he was going to say something else, but he looked at the card and saw "Jewish Dracula: Sidney Applebaum."
Hader lost it. He covered his face with his hands—that iconic Stefon pose—because he was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe.
To the audience, it was just a funny-sounding name. But to comedy writers, it was a tribute to a classic bit of "unfunny" humor that becomes hilarious through repetition.
The Dual Legacy of a St. Paul Hero
The wild part is that Sidney Applebaum actually knew about the joke. Or at least, his family did.
While New York hipsters were laughing at his name on NBC, Sidney was still waking up at 4 a.m. in Minnetonka. He worked until a week before he passed away in 2016 at the age of 92.
Even in his 80s and 90s, he was running Big Top Liquors and Sid’s Discount Liquors. He’d go to Perkins in the Midway area for breakfast at 6 a.m. and then head to the office.
People who worked for him didn't see him as a meme. They saw him as a mentor. He was known for treating the janitors and the carpenters with the same respect as the bank executives.
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What People Get Wrong
The biggest misconception is that Sidney Applebaum is a fictional character. He's not.
Another mistake is thinking the joke is mean. It isn't. In the world of comedy, "Sidney Applebaum" is a "perfect" name. It has a specific rhythm. It’s "K-sounding" (even if it doesn't have a K). It’s just funny.
But behind that name was a man who:
- Served on the board of United Hospital.
- Received the Service to Humanity Award.
- Was a member of the Shriners and the St. Paul Rotary.
- Raised three children and saw 13 grandchildren and 5 great-grandchildren grow up.
Real-World Impact
If you’re looking for the "actionable" side of Sidney's story, it's actually a masterclass in business longevity.
- Don't just sell, pivot: When Sidney sold Applebaum's, he didn't quit. He took his knowledge and built Rainbow.
- Niche down when the giants grow: Later in life, he focused on the liquor business (Big Top Liquors), finding a specific vertical he could dominate locally.
- Presence matters: He was in his stores. He was a "hands-on" leader before that was a buzzword.
To understand Sidney Applebaum is to understand a specific slice of 20th-century Americana. He was the immigrant success story, the retail visionary, and—completely by accident—the patron saint of late-night sketch comedy.
Next time you hear that name on a re-run of SNL, remember that the "Jewish Dracula" was actually just a guy from St. Paul who really, really knew how to sell groceries.
If you're ever in the Twin Cities, you can still see the legacy in the liquor stores that carry his name. Or just ask any local over the age of 50 where they used to get their Sunday deals. They'll tell you about Sid.
Check out the history of regional grocery chains if you want to see how guys like Applebaum stood up to the national giants—it’s a wilder story than you’d think.