Lost City's "Who Goes There?" Columns

The following are the collected editions of the "Who Goes There?" columns. Each edition originally appeared on Eater.com.

As the introduction to each feature states, the purpose of the series is to crack the doors on mysteriously enduring Gotham restaurants—unsung, curious neighborhood mainstays with the dusty, forgotten, determined look—to learn secrets of longevity and find out, who goes there.

Who Goes There? Sammy's Roumanian Steak House
Who Goes There? La Mancha
Who Goes There? Forlini's
Who Goes There? Sevilla
Who Goes There? Spanish Taverna
Who Goes There? Donohue's Steak House

Who Goes There? Pietro's
Who Goes There? Brooks 1890 Restaurant
Who Goes There? La Ripaille
Who Goes There? Isle of Capri
Who Goes There? Heidelberg Restaurant
Who Goes There? Lanza Restaurant
Who Goes There? Francesco Centro Vasca
Who Goes There? John's of 12th Street
Who Goes There? Gino
Who Goes There? Le Veau d'Or
Who Goes There? Ralph's Ristorante Italiano
Who Goes There? Les Sans Culottes
Who Goes There? Gene's Restaurant
Who Goes There? Villa Mosconi
Who Goes There? Tripoli
Who Goes There? Rocco Restaurant
Who Goes There? Pergola des Artistes
Who Goes There? Queen Restaurant
Who Goes There? Spain Restaurant
Who Goes There? Fedora Restaurant
Who Goes There? Tour Va Bien

The "Go Back to Kansas" Argument

Who out there isn't thrilled with the pace and quality of overdevelopment in this City? OK, OK, quite a few. Now, who of you who just answered the first question in the affirmative are from Kansas?

Right. That's what I thought. Well, you may not know it, but there's a certain neo-con, knee-jerk, let-'em-build-the-fucking-crap contingent out there in Commentland who thinks you're all from Kansas. Or should be from there. Check out this comment on Curbed today by an Anonymous gentleman (yeah, could be a woman, but sounds like a man) who didn't like that some people didn't like the Trump Soho:

ooooh... scary! Makes you want to just pack up and flee to Kansas where they don't have any big bad skyscrapers to terrorize you. Gee, what evil new construction project should we demonize next, the Freedom Tower? Get over it - the story of Trump Soho is about as New York as it gets.

You'll see these on a regular basis on the real estate-based blogs, usually coming in defense of some crapitecture Scarano, Fischer, the Toll Brothers, Thor or some like-intentioned develo-raper is throwing up to blot out the noontime sun. Sometimes it's Nebraska, or Iowa or somesuch. But usually it's Kansas, which I guess is the anti-New York or the world. Kansas is apparently the place where skyscrapers aren't built, condos don't exist, ugly architecture is verboten and everything stays the same all the time, with nothing new ever built in anyone's backyard.

It's so funny to me. To comment-spewers like the above, New York is the last place a complainer should live. I always thought this burg was Mecca for complainers, and anathema for lemmings and sheep who roll over for any scheming muckamuck who comes along. But perhaps I'm wrong, and I should listen to the Kansas Tourist Board. Because I don't possess any of the qualities that they seemto think make up the perfect, prototypical New Yorker. Those qualities being:

*A dislike of attractive architecture.
*A contempt for history.
*A belief that to be a NIMBY is worse than anything, included serial murder, sedition and matricide.
*The knowledge that you should never call NIMBYs anything other than NIMBYs, because it's a funny-sounding word, sort of like Gumby, and I bet those NIBMYS feel embarrassed when they're called that. NIMBY, NIMBY, NIMBY!! Ha! Got 'em again!
*A unshakable faith in the grand plans of rich men. They wouldn't be rich if they weren't smart, right? Right?
*A belief that the two most exciting things in the world are: to tear things down; to build bigger things in their place.
*A knowledge that preservationists are Luddites.
*That Luddites are Cavemen.
*That businessmen are cool.
*That Kansas isn't cool.
*That every neighborhood in New York City is a dump and needs saving.

Gosh. It only New York were populated by people like that, what a City we'd finally be.

Some Things That Are Kinda Depressing

Why are such things built? I mean, seriously. Why?

An old Depression-era movie house named the Polk was torn down in Jackson Heights. Not the Roxy or the Strand or the Thalia. The Polk. What? Was it named after the President?

The Toll Brothers are at it again. You read it here first: Won't Ever Happen.

Trusting Cleaners is gone for good. Welcome, whatever crap the greedy landlord lets come in next!

Some Hotels in Coney Island I Won't Be Staying At

The Rat-Squirrel House in Happier Times

My desire to know more about the ill-fated Rat-Squirrel House of Cobble Hill led me to track down this Municipal Archives tax photo of the building at 149 Kane Street.

Judging by the image, very little has been done to the building over the decades. The cornice, the lintels, the windows, the fire escape—they're all the same (if worse for wear) as they were nearly 70 years ago. At some point, a nicer stoop railing and front gate were installed. Otherwise, one certainly gets a feeling from the photo for how starkly working class the South Brooklyn neighborhood was back them. The lack of cars or trees is striking. Funny how a little green and the onset of years can transform a neighborhood from hardscrabble to handsome.


The Shedman Cometh
Rat-Squirrel House Still Shedless, But More Popular With Media
Is This the End of Rat-Squirrel House?

Going Strong

I've been watching the conversion of Cobble Hill's 156-year-old Strong Place Church into a condo complex for what seems like most of the Bush administration now. Though I've read reports (some mind-numbingly detailed) about its progress, I have to confess that sometimes I wondered if anything at all was happening inside the skeletal remains of the Gothic Revival edifice.

I don't wonder anymore. Lately, progress is quite evident. The structure—which has long reminded me of a bombed-out ruin you might find in postwar Dresden—has very visibly been getting the fresh starts of a roof in recent weeks. It looks like Baxt Inqui's January promise that work "will pick up significantly" is coming true.

Some Stuff That's Interesting

B&B Carousell to be fixed up in Ohio.

Ten real estate brokers—including four who work for the evil Corcoran—busted for tax evasion. My God! How could it happen in this market?! Begin gloating.

Things don't look so good for Moynihan Station, a rare big development that might actually do the City some good.

Starbucks buys the Clover company, because it simply must control the coffee universey, and bad coffee must ultimately triumph over bad.

Gridskipper thinks reporters still drink and have hangouts. Ah, the old romantic notions...

Queens' St. Savior's Church has been stripped down to the bare bones and looks starkly beautiful.

Some different water towers.

The Pride of Eagle Provisions

One of the most outlandish proud—and just plain big–signs in all the five boroughs belongs to Eagle Provisions of the South Slope, "Manufacturer of the World's Finest Kielbasy and Polish Provisions." The World's finest. That means every better than the stuff back in old Poland even.

It's been a goal for some time to try that finest of all Kielbasy, and recently I finally did. I walked through the vainglorious storefront, past the many potted plants at the front, through an aisle lined with obscure Polish imports, to the deli counter at the back, where breaded chicken cutlets, homemade potato pancakes and many sorts of meats are available, and told the unsmiling counter woman "One pound of Kielbasy." At a few bucks a pound, how could I lose?

Is it the world's best? Impossible to say. But it's damn good and it went quick. The store (which honors not America's Eagle, but Poland's) has been around since the 1930s. People go there for the homemade stuff and the massive domestic and imported beer selection. They don't go for the sad produce section, the high prices and the borderline rude service. This last part doesn't bother me that much. Sorry to traffic in national stereotypes, but, after spending many years in the City, and patronized every sort of ethnic establishment, one thing I've come not to expect from Polish establishments is charm and friendliness. Might as well expect a cat to pitch in with the housework.

Lost City Asks "Who Goes to Fedora?"

For the second in my new running feature at Eater.com, "Who Goes There?," I visited Fedora, one of the last untouched vestiges of post-War Greenwich Village. The door to that place is a time portal. I felt I was in another world entirely once inside, away from all the cares the world had produced over the last 40 years. Had a light snow been falling outside, the place couldn't have felt more protective and cozy. I was also lucky enough to witness the nightly entrance of Fedora herself, the event coming earlier—around 6 PM—than is usually the case. The woman is very motherly; it's probably no mistake that I ordered Manicotti and banana cream pie—the menu I often requested on my birthday when I was a child. (Sorry. Too much information, perhaps.) I do believe I will truly mourn when and if this restaurant ever closes.

Well Whaddaya Know?!

Quote from the New York Sun via Curbed:

New York City is struggling more and more to house the students, researchers, professors, and medical residents at its worldclass education and health care centers, and the shortage of professional housing could threaten the quality of the institutions they serve, institutional leaders and real estate executives familiar with the industry say.

Gosh. I guess catering only to rich people and their housing needs actually doesn't work that well for the City in the long run! "

What's that honey? Choking on your foie gras sandwich with white truffles and need medical attention right away? Sorry—the hospitals have all shut down and moved to Pennsylvania. No, Junior can't help you. He doesn't know how to do anything but use his credit cards and watch television because no teachers can afford to live in New York anymore. Sure I can call the police. They should be here in 45 minutes; the nearest cop lives in Paterson. But cheer up! Mayor Bloomberg just called. He wanted to let us know that Con Ed, the DOB and the MTA are doing a great job. Hey—what happened to the lights?"

Waverly Restaurant to Get New Sign

Those who know Greenwich Village know the old Waverly Diner, at the corner of Sixth Avenue and Waverly Place. And those that know the Waverly Diner, known its iconic neon sign, which hangs out at a diagonal at the intersection of aforementioned streets.

Well, no sign lasts forever, I guess. I was passing down Waverly Place when I saw the diner's famous neon beacon lying grounded on the sidewalk, its tubes and lettering twisted and falling apart. Little of the neon that read "Steaks Chops Seafood" was left. It was a huge chunk of metal and glass, about three feet by six. I went into the diner to ask what's up. They said the restaurant would be getting a new neon sign, but that it would be very similar in appearance to the old one. Good to known they've got a healthy respect for their own history.

Donut House Says It's Staying Put

I was startled by a report yesterday that the Donut House of Court Street might be picking up and packing out, so I walked straight to the age-old diner, sat myself down at the counter and ordered me some lunch.

I asked the counter man if it was true that they were closing. He said no. "Where would we go?" So I ate my cheeseburger deluxe, which was, frankly, excellent. Things were tranquil and friendly at the joint, which must have the most undemonstrative color scheme in diner history—off-white and tan. The old Greek man in the toupee who seems to run the place was serving folks with an extra toothy smile.

To get a second opinion, I went next door to a deli and asked if they had heard anything about the Donut House going bye-bye. They adamantly said it was not closing. Take it for what it's worth, but that's what I found out.

Bigelow Unbound

When last visited by Lost City, the grand and tall neon sign for the C.O. Bigelow Pharmacy in the Village was wrapped up in ugly scaffolding. It is now free from all encumberments and looking better than ever. That's some good neon action

Life Stands Still at Farrell's

At some longstanding taverns in New York City, there is such an adherence to tradition and an abhorrence to changing anything physically about the place, that it can seem as if time has stood still. Except at Farrell's Bar & Grill in Windsor Terrace. At Farrell's, time has actually stood still.

A recent afternoon scene at the circa-1933 watering hole needed no airbrushing or updated to have taken place in 1966. Tough-talking Irishmen swore a blue streak. The stoic young bartender blinked at nothing he saw and spoke with a undiluted Brooklyn accent. There was a ballgame on the television, but no music whatsoever; no jukebox. A man gawked at a long-haired guy across the street and joked he couldn't tell if it was a guy or a girl. Patrons characterized people they knew by their ethnicity. And no women were on the premises.

Many old bars show their credentials by posting framed newspaper articles and old photographs on the walls. Farrell's is not interested in boasting, or, very likely, what anybody thinks about the bar. Its walls are all but bare. The few things that are on the wall are there only to remind patrons that Farrell's supports our troops overseas. The joint is remarkably streamlined. Tables, chairs, a bar, mirrors, a men's room, a women's room (for show), a wooden phone booth and no kitchen (never mind the "grill" part of the sign). There are stools at the bar, but I am told they are recent additions. In the past, real men—like Pete Hamill's father, who used to frequent the saloon—stood on their own two feet as they got hammered.

There is no fancy drinking here. Heineken is as exotic as it gets, beer-wise. In this vodka-made age, Farrell's carries only two brands. I find it difficult to believe cocktails are ordered here. Beer and straight liquor is the game.

There was some sentiment on evidence. One man marveled that they were actually going to tear down Yankee Stadium. "I'm not Yankees fan," he said, "But that's like tearing down the Vatican."

A Good Sign: Regio Bakery

Regio, on Fifth Avenue in the South Slope, looks to be closed forever. The sign's a peach, though.

Who Loves Benjamin Harrison?

The Waldorf=Astoria, that's who.

At the center of the lobby of the palatial old hotel is ridiculous grand, and probably horrendously heavy, four-sided clock. It's old enough that it once graced the Rose Room of the previous Waldolf=Astoria down at Fifth and 34th. The hotel bought it after it was exhibited at the Chicago World's Fair of 1893. It was made by the Goldsmiths' Company on London.

The base of the thing is octagonal, each face adorned with the sculpted metal likeness of a famed personage. Since the clock was English-made, I guess there was no getting out of one of the faces being that of Queen Victoria. Benjamin Franklin is the only American non-President. Five other sides feature folks you've probably heard of: Andrew Jackson, Abraham Lincoln, Ulysses S. Grant, George Washington and (I'm assuming a lot here) Grover Cleveland. The eighth and final panel goes to Benjamin Harrison, our forgotten 23rd President, who is probably best remembered today (if he is remembered at all) for breaking up Cleveland's two terms. He is safely the face on the clock that most often provokes a "Huh?"

Harrison was one of those guys who won the office by way the electoral collage, failing to win the popular vote. He possessed a weird number of connections to other Presidents and politicians. His grandfather was William Henry Harrison. His granddaughter later married a descendant of James Garfield. His daughter married a grandnephew of Harrison's other Secretary of State, James Blaine (whom Harrison had hated.)

My favorite thing that Harrison did was make it impossible for us to determine whether North Dakota or South Dakota was admitted to the Union first. Before he signed the legislation for the two states, he shuffled the bills so he could only see the bottom of each.

Wonder Wall

One of the more depressing aspects about recent developments in the City is the uniformity of their windows. All the same shape, all the same cut, all boring two-paned affairs. And don't get me started on lintels.

That's why, more and more, I enjoy facades like this one, with its chaotic assortment of portals, each probably installed at a different time over the course of a hundred years or so. A scene from a Feydeau farce or Jacques Tati film could be played out in such a building. And it makes for an amusing pastime to imagine how the rooms are laid out inside based on the positioning and size of the windows.

A Future Rat-Squirrel House?

There's no saving the Rat-Squirrel House of 149 Kane Street. That seems pretty clear now. Either it will fall down or be torn down, but it gravity-bound either way. What can be down to avert such tragedies? Well, catch them in time, I guess.

With that in mind, what is going on at 88 2nd Place in Carroll Gardens? A thin, three-story brownstone that's gone a ghostly white, it's in deplorable condition. The top windows are boarded over. The whole facade is weather-beaten. The front gate has an intact post on one side, a decapitated one on the other. Similarly, one newel post at the foot of the stoop is adorned with a piece of statuary, while the other is bereft of such adornment. There is detritus all over the lawn and an abandoned wooden door that has been pried from its former place. There is a chipped, leaning shrine to the Blessed Virgin that looks none too happy. And no sign that anybody's home.

The house hasn't racked up nearly as many violations at the Rat-Squirrel House, but a recent complaint, investigated on Jan. 16, found that 88 2nd Place was "vacant, open and unguarded." A previous 2007 investigation reported that a caller had stated that the "building has been vacant for 10 years but someone comes to collect mail." I think I actually saw that guy. He entered the yard, took the mail out of the box and then left.

A Good Sign: Harry Chong

Nice and simple. In Greenwich Village, on Waverly Place. Harry Chong, a laundry man, actually closed up his shop on Dec. 31, 2005, after 60 years in the biz. (Think of the beatnik laundry he had to sort through.) But the sign remains, at least part of it. Used to also say "Laundry" and "Dry Cleaning."

Some Stuff That's Interesting

A roller rink opens in Coney Island in a former Childs restaurant. Gee, Childs has been in the news a lot for a defunct chow chain.

The Landmarks Commission seems seems to think tearing landmarks down may be appropriate.

More evidence that the Department of Building's ineptitude and corruption leads to deaths.

An old-style newsstand survived on the Upper East Side despite an assassination attempt from the self-appointed eyesore police.

The Peek-a-Boo Cornice

Some brownstone owner in Carroll Gardens apparently feels they need an extra set of windows. And so they installed a row of three small sliding openings in the cornice of their home. They look like those little open-and-shut peepholes you see on speakeasy doors in the movies. Could some sort of espionage work be going on up there? A police sting operation aimed at the brownstone across the street? Is an unwanted, possibly crazy relative locked up there, "Jane Eyre"-like.

The same style is in evidence in the brownstone next door. Strange.

Thing That Was Never Gonna Happen Isn't Going to Happen

Like many of my fellow Brooklyn bloggers, I never liked Bruce Ratner's Atlantic Yards project. Too big, too overreaching, too contemptuous of the rest of the surrounding Brownstone Brooklyn, too ill-thought-out, too subsidized, too abusive of Eminent Domain, too obviously a sweetheart deal for money-mad, back-room dealer Ratner.

But, unlike many of my fellow Brooklyn bloggers, I could never get too upset about the development, because I figured it didn't a chance in hell of happening. It was so ambitious, so expensive, it just seemed like pure fantasy to me. A stadium, a bunch of towers, a freakin' Frank Gehry tower? Who thought up this new, shiny, futuristic Brooklyn, Albert Speer? Whenever people asked my opinion of the enterprise, I always prefaced my responses by saying "Well, if it ever happens..."

New York City has always had its economic ups and downs, and we've been due a recession for some time now. And recessions kill big projects like this. So, here's our recession, and, right on schedule, here's Ratner stunning us with news that the stalled economy could force him to curtail his grand plan. No Miss Brooklyn office tower (always hated that name; embarrassing); many fewer residential skyscrapers. Wow. You mean all that non-building we've seen going on downtown for a year actually meant something—meant that nothing is getting built. Wow. I mean, Wow.

Ratner is still pretty certain that we'll see a new stadium for the Nets. Construction will start by the end of the year, he said. But, I don't know. It's still a recession and it doesn't look like it's going away anytime soon. And a $950 million stadium costs $950 million, last time I checked. Reader, if you and I are still here in 10 years and there's a stadium in downtown Brooklyn, I'll buy you a coke.

(Photo courtesy of Brownstoner)

The History of 379 Henry Street

A few weeks ago, I posted an item about the lovely, three-story corner building at 379 Henry Street, at the corner of Verandah Place, in Cobble Hill, asking if anyone knew anything about its history. I'd always admired the building and it seemed evident to me that it had been a store of some kind in the past.

Today I received a wonderful comment from Pam McCarthy. She said her family had run a grocery store out of the space for 40 years until 1975. Here's the full message. It makes for a nice little footnote in South Brooklyn history.

My family, the Marescas, had a grocery store on the ground floor of 379 Henry St., at Verandah Place, for forty years, until 1975. My great-grandfather, John Maresca, who immigrated to NY from Italy in the 1880s, started the business at 46 Atlantic Ave., a block east of Columbia, where the BQE is now; I don't know when the move to Henry St. was, but we do know that John and his wife, Mary, bought two houses on Warren St. in 1914. John died in 1921; his son Charlie (1891-1973), who had joined him in the business, took it over with his brother Frank (1905-1996); their brothers Mike and Louis worked there for a bit before decamping to Long Island and Maine.

The door at 379 Henry was where the window on the diagonal is now. Maresca's Grocery Store had regular customers to whom they made deliveries; in a 1987 issue of the Heights Press, Frank talked about the business:

"Everybody called it Charlie's. It was a friendly neighborhood store where people would send their children to ask for things they needed. We also got a lot of business from St. Peter's Hospital, across the street (now the Cobble Hill Nursing Home). The entire freshman class from Long Island College Hospital would come in for lunch. We used to charge them 35 cents for a ham sandwich, and that was with Boar's Head ham.... The war gave us a break. We'd be open to 10, 11 at night, but during the war we'd close at 8 or 9.... We used to sell Christmas trees. The customers would go down to the basement with my brother Charlie. I'd hear them laughing as he'd untie every bundle. Then he'd sell them a $5 tree for $3. 'I gave it to them for $3 because they were good customers all year,' he'd say."

Frank was a kind of unofficial mayor of Cobble Hill; until his death in 1996 he lived where he had been born and raised (and raised his own family), at 177-179 Warren St., and in the last years of his life he had coffee each morning with Patrick at the Verandah Deli (which is in the mirror-image location from the Maresca store, at the opposite end of Verandah Place), telling him about the old days and no doubt advising on how to cut meat. He was also a golf partner of Barry Brockway, of the Cafe on Clinton; in fact, Frank's golf shoe and picture hung just inside the Cafe on Clinton's front window until the recent renovation.

Department of Building Official Is Corrupt, Lies, Gets Arrested

Remember the repeated claims from the Department of Building that the crane that sliced through Turtle Bay last weekend, killing seven people, has been inspected several times before the accident?

Well, late today, the Buildings Department inspector who claimed to have made an inspection on March 4, Edward J. Marquette, was arrested and charged with lying to New York City authorities. Turns out he didn't actually inspect that crane on March 4. Turns out he made entries on a Buildings Department inspector’s route sheet indicating that he did make the inspection. Turns out that he lied to everyone about it over the past week. And turns out he hasn't shaved in a few days.

Marquette, who is only paid $48 grand a year for his very vital work, was arraigned in Criminal Court in Manhattan on one count of falsifying business records in the first degree and one count of offering a false instrument for filing in the first degree, "both felonies that can be punished by up to four years in prison," according to City Room.

DOB commish Patricia Lancaster—who's still reporting for work—insisted Marquette's dishonesty and failure to inspect the crane had nothing whatsoever to do with the accident, and banged her desk with her fist, saying she wouldn't stand for such rank corruption. Next we'll hear how Marquette was a renegade inspector and completely out of keeping with the department's other staff members. Perhaps he was a loner, kept to himself.

Meanwhile, Stuart Loeser, the flack who speaks for Mayor Bloomberg, and earlier this week defended Ms. Lancaster and called Council Member Tony Avella call for her resignation "foolishness," told the New York Sun his opinion of the situation had not changed. That the City has side with rich developers and not with its citizens is so transparent at this point. I find it interesting that our billionaire Mayor, whose wealth is supposed to protect him from undue influence by money-mongering outside influence, should still be so beholden to the development and real estate interests.

Some Stuff About Landmarks in Distress

The City, in an unusual pro-preservation move, took the landlord of the landmarked, but ailing, 1881, Hell's Kitchen apartment complex The Windermere to court for failing to keep the buildings in good repair. Scumlord Masako Yamagata didn't show (no surprise, since he's 89, ailing and lives in Japan), but sent his scumlord lawyer Steven S. Sieratzki, who said he hadn't read all the materials.

More untended landmarks. 287 Broadway is now leaning eight inches to the south. The villain in this case also lives out of town: John Buck Company of Chicago, which ripped down the building that surrounded the landmark, so it could erect a 20-story condo tower, thus removing the landmark's support system. So far, no one at Buck has said "sorry."


170 Smith Street is a-comin' down. Another red-letter day for the DOB.

The Kosciuszko Bridge is a-comin' down, too, but on purpose.

Part of a Childs restaurant mosaic is still visible on lower Broadway.

Welcome to Carroll Gardens' Pastel District

Most blocks in South Brooklyn stick to the usual variations of brownstone and red brick buildings. On Summit Street, between Henry and Hicks, however, you'll find a veritable Easter egg basket of pastel paint jobs. Baby blue, pale yellow, light green, lavender, candy-apple red—they're all here (along, of course, with plenty of plain red brick).

You won't find this assortment of house colors anywhere else in Carroll Gardens. Not sure what brought it about. It reminds me of a trip I once took to the Isle of Skye in the Scottish Highlands. The houses facing the harbor in the port town of Portree were similarly colored. (See below.)

Anyway, it will make for an appropriate array of Easter season colors as people stroll down the block this Sunday on their way to Sacred Heart/St. Stephen's Church, which sit next to the BQE.




This is Portree:

Bullshit Quotes of the Day

From today's Newsday article about the Manhattan East Side crane accident:

Bloomberg said critics were unfairly characterizing the site's history.

"The violations had nothing to do with this," Bloomberg said at a news conference Saturday evening. "Every large construction site has violations. They were not serious."

Six construction workers and one woman visiting from Miami were killed, and 10 people were injured.

Yesterday, the Buildings Department began inspecting crane sites citywide -- 253 in all -- but it was not clear when the reviews would be completed, said agency spokeswoman Kate Lindquist.

Lancaster was not available for comment Wednesday, but during the weekend, she issued a statement saying the safety sweep of all cranes was not prompted by fears of unsafe conditions elsewhere.

"We have no reason to believe that Saturday's tragic accident is indicative of a larger problem with similar equipment being used around the city," she said. Lancaster has said that the increase in accidents is due, in part, to the city's construction boom. The number of construction permits issued in New York City went up 36 percent between 2002 and May 2007. And the number of safety violations has nearly doubled over the past year.

Mark my words, readers, this man will never accept criticism or admit he's wrong on any of his policies, whether they be the smoking ban, trans fat ban, congestion pricing, public education, the Olympics bid, the West Side stadium, his pretense of using the subways, his refusal to say when he is not in town and a deputy is in charge, the need for development or this accident. Think about it: When has he ever admitted fault? He's too used to being in charge and not being countermanded.

Assuring the Palm Beach Crowd

The King of NYCabbies alerted me this article in the current issue of the Palm Beach Daily News ("The Shiny Sheet"), in which, as the KOC aptly put it, Department of City Planning commissioner Amanda Burden speaks to her true constituency.

I'm just going to reprint the article in all its astouding lack of irony, boldfacing lines that particularly give me the chills in their implied meaning. My totally measured and reasonable observations are in brackets. Please note that this article about New York's future is written by paper's FASHION EDITOR!

Planner Amanda Burden explains future of New York City to Preservation Foundation of Palm Beach

By ROBERT JANJIGIAN
Daily News Fashion Editor

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Community planning, zoning and development issues are at the fore in town this season.

To reflect — and perhaps encourage ["perhaps" indeed; Burden doesn't want any dialog] — the ongoing dialog and to educate the public about the principles and goals of sensible growth strategies, the Preservation Foundation asked Amanda Burden, director of the New York City Department of City Planning and chairwoman of the City Planning Commission, to deliver the March 14 Gruss master architect lecture, traditionally presented by a distinguished practitioner of design.

Burden works for Mayor Michael Bloomberg, whom she calls a great figure "who wants to make a difference." [My God. He's a Svengali figure to his various commissioners.] She is charged with devising development strategies for New York City, with an eye toward improving economic conditions and quality of life. [Quality of life for whom? Folks of her tax bracket?]

An important part of her job is maintaining the city's position as a city of global stature, [Are we in danger of losing our position at a city of global stature? Will only overdevelopment save us?] able to compete with economic and cultural capitals around the world while creating and maintaining vibrant and diverse neighborhoods [Her plans, of course, quash diversity, not encourage it; what they create is homogeneity], waterfront sites and public spaces — and encouraging top level, sustainable design. [I'm not aware that much of the jerrybuilt crapitecture she engenders with her rezonings is sustainable or top level. I've always considered it bottom-run development never meant to last the ages.]

"We're trying to shape the city," said Burden, noting that 79 rezoning plans have been passed, with more than one-sixth of the city targeted for redevelopment.
[Holy shit! One sixth of the City's in Bloomberg's image. Hello, Atlanta!]
She discussed several projects, some nearing completion, each reflecting the goals that she and the city administration consider essential:

* Restoration and enhancement of Lower Manhattan.

"It was suffering even before 9/11," Burden said. "The area was all business and went to bed promptly at 5 p.m."

Burden's office has induced an increase in residential development downtown, with a potential to draw 10,000 families to new apartments and condominiums and, with them, an influx of a variety of restaurants and shops.

* Implementation of Manhattan's Hudson Yards district.

"There are no sites in midtown Manhattan for office towers," Burden said. "Zoning, which allowed only low-density buildings, on the far west side of midtown had killed the area." [Oh, ick! Low-density buildings! The work of the Devil, they are! They kill neighborhoods. Only tall buildings revive areas.]

She intends to redesignate 59 blocks on the West Side, extending the dense midtown skyline west toward the Hudson River. [Just what anyone would want, an extension of that suffocating skyline] The change would allow a potential 24 million square feet of office space, as well as a supply of homes.

"Yes, it's dense, but it's very key to maintain New York's competitive edge in the world, and this will address that aim," she said. [This represents a rare bit of questioning from the reporter in this article. Again, Burden is blinkered. She can see no other solution for improving New York than overdevelopment. Competitive edge=tall, shiny towers. How can someone so limited in imagination be in charge of city planning?]

Part of the plan includes parks along a new boulevard spine and extension of a subway line.

"Transportation access is very important," she said. "Weaving parks and open spaces into the plan creates real estate value."

* Developing regional business districts.

Burden's office envisions an office district in downtown Brooklyn, which she describes as having fabulous assets, including access to surrounding low-scale residential neighborhoods, superior transportation and the potential for plenty of residential development alongside commercial properties, with mixed-use development a priority.

Within that context, Burden advises town planners to "invest in public open space and transportation."

* For Long Island City, Burden envisions an office district [She sure likes office districts.] that combines preservation of the area's low-density character with growth. New buildings, some quite large, built in strategic locations will "give an identification to Long Island City," she said. [Long Island City residents already feel they have an identity, lady.]

* The city is rezoning the entire South Bronx to encourage residential and retail development in conjunction with the new Yankee Stadium.

Manhattan's 125th Street corridor "needs new zoning that will catalyze development," Burden said.

The historic street, home of the Apollo Theater, was described as a dull succession of one-story buildings [Again: small buildings=neighborhood killers] with no cultural center [WTF!], no residential development and no restaurants. [There it is again! Restaurants! She's obsessed with getting fois gras in Harlem!] Burden's plan offers developers a bonus for the inclusion of arts, entertainment, dining and retail elements, which are required to gain the necessary approvals from the city.

"Banks can deaden an environment, closing their doors at 3 p.m.," she said. "We've zoned for limited bank exposure on the street level, positioning the banking floors on the second floor to encourage more vitality." [This is the only good idea you've got, Burden! Make it citywide!]

Burden believes 8,800 new jobs and thousands of needed apartments will result from the 125th Street redevelopment plan.

She went on to detail plans for a waterfront residential development along the "completely abandoned" East River shoreline in the Greenpoint and Williamsburg neighborhoods of Brooklyn.

The High Line elevated railway park in Manhattan's West Chelsea district is intended to add value to the existing real estate, preserve the gallery district and create housing on the perimeter.

And rezoning Brooklyn's Coney Island will save it as a year-round community and amusement park site. [What? It was dead? I know lots of people who go there every summer. Sorry it it's too gritty for your clean white suit, Amanda.]

In the sustainability arena, Burden outlined plans for "greening" open spaces: parking lots will be required to include planted medians and shade trees, and 75 percent of residential front yards in the outer boroughs will be required to be planted, not paved over.

Ladies and gentelmen, this is what she actually thinks. Of course, they're not really her thoughts, any more than DOB head Patricia Lancaster's are hers. They're fed to them by Mayor Mike.

Only 651 days until he's gone, people.

Lost City in the News

AM New York reporter David Freedlander has done admirable work for some time now covering the New York scene, particularly those parts of it that are in danger of vanishing. I am fortunate enough to be the subject of his latest story. I met with David a couple times over the past month, talking and taking miniature walking tours of Manhattan. No tape recorder, only a notepad; old-school reporting. One such travelogue can be found on AMNY's website here. (Nice atmospheric music; very Gershwin.) There's also a nice array of envy-inducing photos from those trips. Why can't I make these places look this good?



Here's the story in full:

Blog Testifies to Disappearing New York History

By David Freedlander

New York is a city of the things unnoticed until it's too late.

The faded wall advertisement that one day gets covered up by billboards, the odd dimly lit bar that closes to make way for a health food store, the shoeshine stand that suddenly disappears.

That vanishing world is documented in the blog Lost City, a Web site that is part archaeology of New York and part screed against rapacious developers and the politicians who enable them.

Its author is a freelance writer, who requests anonymity for fear of upsetting editors or sources with his screeds against the "new" New York, but who agreed to talk to amNewYork as long as we used his "nom de blogosphere," "Brooks of Sheffield."

"I would always plead to my editors and say, 'this bar is disappearing, this restaurant is closing, and we need to write about it,'" he said one recent afternoon over a bowl of matzah ball soup at the Edison Cafe, one of the oldest cafes in Times Square and one of the few places where it's still possible to dine on the cheap under big, bright chandeliers.

"And they would always tell me that's the nature of the city, and you can't get sentimental about New York."

Brooks began the blog in January 2006 after the abrupt shutdown of McHale's, a legendary Times Square watering hole where all the old theater hands used to go.

"I keep wondering where all the stagehands go now," he said. "Theater people need to drink."

As the pace of change in a city already known for rapid turnover accelerated, the tone of Lost City changed as well, growing more insistent and placing more blame at the feet of the Bloomberg administration.

"New York has always been fueled by money, but never so baldly as right now," he said. "It adds no value to the city or to history, but only to the people building them. I think we can add housing and jobs and all of that to the city and still put up buildings that people are happy with and proud of,"

He added, "I really wish I could close the blog down. The sad thing is though there are more and more things to write about all the time."

Lost City is now just one star in a constellation of sites devoted to documenting the idiosyncratic corners of the city. Forgotten NY, Jeremiah's Vanishing New York, and a host of others contribute to the choir, and they have begun to get the notice of the city's professional preservationists.

"It's indicative of the lightening pace in which development is going through in this city," said Andrew Berman, president of the Greenwich Village Society for Historic Preservation. "They focus less on architectural pedigree, and more on the things that capture people's eye, which are harder to advocate for in front of the Landmarks Preservation Commission, but they allow people to connect who are troubled by the losses of the city's history."

Brooks divides the great spaces of the city into four categories. There are those that are gone, like the Moondance Diner or CBGB; those soon to be lost, like Astroland; those, like Katz's or the Ear Inn that own the building and so are safe; and finally those that, through a miracle or landlord's generosity, are holding on.

"A place like Katz's, it tells the story of the history of New York," he said. "I don't think its Pollyannaish or unrealistic to say that those kind of places enrich the city. We have a lived history here that tells why New York is great, and why it has been many things for many people over the centuries."

Brooks bristles at the notion, though, that he is only engaged in a romantic reverie for a gone world.

"These things are still a part of the city, they are not nostalgia, not yet anyway," he said.

"I guess you could call it overly romantic but the people who wanted to save Grand Central were also overly romantic, but they were also right."

Works Continues at Chumley's

Not much of an update here, except to say that work continues on the restoration of Chumley's. As of yesterday, the back door was open, various dumpsters were in evidence, work lights were on and people were inside. Construction commenced on Feb. 25. So that's nearly a month's worth of labor. Still plenty of work to do, but this tiny flame of hope is not yet snuffed out.

A Good Sign: Casa Oliveira Wines & Liquors

Been there since 1936, just south of Sheridan Square in Greenwich Village. The sign seems to indicate original owners of Portuguese origin. I do know that, for an average wine store, they have a more than decent selection of Spanish and Portuguese wines. Note the "98" on the "Wines Liquors" sign—the store's address.

Why?

In case you don't like the look of the people who use the Chase bank branch at the northwest corner of Fifth and 14th Street, you will soon have the option of using the Chase ATMs at the northeast corner of Fifth and 14th Street.

Why? Why, why, why, why, why, why, WHY do they need two branches at the same goddam intersection? Where are the Dept. of City Planning police that outlawed these breeding-like-rabbits, Bear Stearns-buying bastards from spreading their seed over the newly zoned Harlem? Where? Why are they allowed to do this in the Village? It reminds me of that Lewis Black routine about being in a mall and seeing two Starbucks situated exactly opposite each other. He considered it a sign of the coming apocalypse.

I wonder—if enough people got together and began taking money out of one branch, then crossing the street and depositing it in the other branch, and thenn started doing the exact opposite, and just continued like that for several hours, would the two banks' computer brains become confused and explode?

What if we started a whispering campaign and told the tellers at either bank branch that the workers across the way though they were pussies and were likely the product of inbreeding? Would a grudge match in the middle of Sixth Avenue commence, with one workforce fighting the other to the death?

Let's keep thinking. Must be a way to get rid of one of these branches.

Easter is Coming...

...the marzipan lambs are getting fat.

These hyper-religious (and patriotic—check out the American and Italian flags) treats are piled high in the window of the venerable Court Street Bakery in Carroll Gardens. No need to order ahead. They're there for the grabbing.

Hole in Carroll Gardens

The continued existence of the teeny-tiny Hole in the Wall Video store on Court street, near the former Key Food, was always living proof to me that booming Carroll Gardens still had room for a mom-and-pop mercantile culture.

Today, it is closing for good, after 20 years service to the community. That tenure would have the business arriving just before the neighborhood started to change from a sleepy Brooklyn backwater to a hot nabe for Manhattan exiles. The place was what it said it was: a hole in the wall. One room, low ceilings. The management folded up the VHS tape boxes so they were flat, in order to use the space on the shelves more efficiently. The selection was decent, the service good; I had an account there for some years.

No mention of the reason they're closing in their goodbye note posted in the window. The place is too small for most businesses. Wonder what's up. The building's owned by none other that the area's famous Scotto clan, and there's an application in with the DOB to renovate the storefront.

Landmarks Commission Found in a Giving Mood

The Real Deal reports that today's meeting of the Landmarks Commission went well for the following properties and proposals:

*The East Village music venue Webster Hall.

*The synagogue Beth Hamedrash Hagadol Anshe on E. 7th Street.

*Elizabeth Home for Girls on E. 12th Street.

*The Free Public Baths of the City of New York on E. 11th Street.

*The Allerton House on E. 39th Street.

*1 Chase Manhattan Plaza, including both the tower and the plaza, will be considered for landmark designation.

*The Fiske Terrace-Midwood Park historic district in Flatbush, which "includes about 250 houses, most of which were developed in 1914 by two prominent builders, the T.B. Ackerson Company and John R. Corbin Company."

Ridgewood Theatre Goes Dark

BushwickBK reports that the Ridgewood Theater, the only movie house left that served Bushwick and Ridgewood—and one that has done so continuously since 1916, when the Great War was on, but we weren't yet involved, and a professor from Princeton was in White House—has closed for good.

The great theatre architect, Thomas W. Lamb, built the Ridgewood. It opened two days before Christmas 92 years ago. It could seat 3,100 people. In it's early years, it hosted vaudeville as well as movies. Reports of more recent time indicate the inside was sorely in need of a renovation.

Old Lamb. He got around and designed a ton of theatres, but he hasn't had much luck in keeping them open.

Bye Bye Beauty

The news that this building in Long Island City is soon to be destroyed hit me particularly hard because, well, the thing is so goddamn beautiful. I mean, for an everyday apartment building, it's pretty amazing. Particularly the gracefully curved red-and-white-brick patterning at the corner, and the connecting lintel work on the first and second stories. The cornice rocks. Even the fire escape it in harmony.

liQcity says the building, at the corner of 44th Rd and Crescent St, must bow to the Philistine wishes of Rockrose, which is tearing it down to make way for a 42-story, 704-unit tower made of super-sucky glass and steel, which you can have a studio in for the low, low price of $2,100 a month. Rockrose is responsible for a lot of crapitecture that's due to go up in LIC in the coming months and years. Rockrose loves LIC so much, it would sooner destroy it that have it fall into some other unworthy's arms.

Landmarks Commission Keeping Busy

The Landmarks Commission is hearing out a big batch of cases today, including bid for landmark status for Webster Hall, the Free Public Baths on E. 11th Street, as well as proposed landmark districts for Fiske Terrace-Midwood Park, West Chelsea, and extensions of the historic districts in Noho and Douglaston. Stay tuned.

How Much Are Construction Deaths Worth?

I've found myself disturbed by Mayor Michael Bloomberg and Department of Building Commissioner Patricia Lancaster's smooth reactions to the deaths caused by the East Side Manhattan crane accident of this past weekend.

The death toll from the accident, in which a huge crane plummeted to the ground and sliced through several buildings, demolishing one, had risen from four to seven yesterday. The additional victims were Santino Gallone and Clifford Canzona, and Odin Torres, who lived in South Florida and was visiting for the St. Patrick’s Day weekend.
The other victims were Wayne Bleidner, 51, of Pelham, N.Y., the crane’s operator; Anthony C. Mazza, 40, a rigger, of Staten Island; and Brad Cohen, a rigger; and Aaron Stephens. A nylon sling, perhaps dangerously overloaded, is now suspected as the cause of the disaster.

Our City's leader's reaction? Mumblings about how it's tragic, that accidents will happen and construction is a dangerous job. Virtually no intimation that someone, or some department or some system is at fault here. Just lame comments on how investigations are continuing. It's as if Bloomberg were talking about a tornado that ripped through town, not a catastrophe brought on by his heedless advocacy of heedless overdevelopment. This was not a freak accident, as City Hall is characterizing it. It was an inevitability.

If a New York City police officer caused the unwarranted death of a citizen, there would be hue and cry, protests, raging editorials, and politicians on the ropes. Why are these deaths—also caused by the deficient performance of a City-employed official (Lancaster and her criminally ineffective department)—any different? Why are construction deaths shrugged off by City Hall as part and parcel with the the business of running the City? The victims are hardly mentioned and never lamented, aside from pat comments that Mike's and Patty's thoughts are with the families. How does Lancaster imagine she is being respectful of these families' great losses by steadfastly remaining in her post?

The Daily Kos suggests that Bloomberg should attend each funeral and I see nothing amiss in that proposal. The deaths are ultimately the result of his policies. (The way many construction workers gathered to pay their respects to their fallen colleagues reminded me of the way policemen and firemen show similar respect for those in their ranks who have died in the line of duty.)

"That crane came within feet of taking out a 12-story building full of people," one fire commander told The Daily News. Would Bloomberg and Lancaster be more contrite if dozens of people had died instead of "just" seven? Would they change course in their attitude toward rampant construction and City Hall's big bear hug of all developers? Would anything cause Bloomberg to change course? Or is he as blinkered, closed-off and pig-headed as our President?

In a column in the New York Post, Manhattan Borough President Scott Stringer compared the accident to the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory, a bellwether of the last century the brought on sweeping changes in corrupy citywide labor laws. He invoked the disaster as a way of indicating that vast changes at the DOB are called for in the wake of the crane accident. Will such changes occur? Sadly, tragically, criminally, another crane accident is probably more likely.

Armando's 3/17/2008

Sad sight. The neon sign for Armando's of Brooklyn Heights was off for good on March 17. The seven-decade old Italian restaurant rolled up the floors on Sunday. Inside, staff were taking things apart and rounding up the many, many leftover bottles of liquor. Wonder where they're going. One less location fans can physically connect to the old Dodgers has disappeared.

Some Stuff That's Interesting, and One That's Repellent

The New Apollo Restaurant on Livingston in downtown Brooklyn is getting a new sign. The old one was great. Let's hope they don't screw it up.

Coney Island was neat, and really crowded, in the '40s.

Central Park South dining mainstay San Domenico is moving to Midtown because of a rent dispute with its landlord.

The East Side Manhattan Crane crash has claimed a total of nine lives. Mayor Bloomberg says we shouldn't "rush to judgment" about the accident. DOB commish Patricia Lancaster still has her job.

Queens Crap reveals a particularly revolting example of the kind of philistine behavior encouraged by Bloomberg and Lancaster's current stance on development.

Lost City Asks "Who Goes There?"

Beginning today, I will be contributing an occasional feature to Eater.com called "Who Goes There?"

As the site puts it, in the feature I "crack the doors on mysteriously enduring Gotham restaurants—unsung, curious neighborhood mainstays with the dusty, forgotten, determined look—to learn secrets of longevity and find out, who goes there?"

My first inspection looks at Tout Va Bien, an ancient French bistro in the theatre district. The best part of this new gig is it will lead me to finally experience old New York restaurants that have perplexed and intrigued me for years.

I'm Not the Only One...

...calling for DOB Commissioner Patricia Lancaster's resignation after the horrific Midtown crane accident over the weekend.

The New York Sun reported a similar cry from Queens City Council member Tony Avella:

"This is just the latest incident," Mr. Avella, who called for Ms. Lancaster's resignation previously after a fatal accident at the Trump SoHo construction site, said yesterday. "How many people have to die before the mayor realizes that the Department of Building, which is ultimately responsible for construction in this city, is in total chaos?"

The City response? Typical:

A spokesman for Mayor Bloomberg, Stu Loeser, said Mr. Avella's resignation call was off base. "Such comments indicate a total lack of understanding of the situation, and we're not going to dignify such foolishness with a response," Mr. Loeser said.

It's as if Lancaster has become the Bloomberg administration's Rumsfeld. No matter how badly she screws up, Mayor Mike will defend her and say she's doing a great job.

By the way, I completely concur with this analysis of the DOB's problems and how to fix them on Gowanus Lounge.

Department of Disaster

Now, let's look at the Department of Building's 2008 track record:

*March 15: A large crane fell away from a tower under construction at 303 East 51st Street, hurtling down to smash buildings blocks away and kill at least four people and injure 17. Fully 39 complaints had been filed against the site. A complaint on March 4 by a former contractor had warned that the crane was not properly attached. A DOB inspector concluded "No violation warranted for complaint at time of inspection." "Enough is enough," said Manhattan Borough President Scott Stringer. "We've closed restaurants that have fruit flies, but we don't close construction sites that have major safety violations. We have to revamp the construction protocols.We have failed this borough and the people of the city. It is unacceptable and it has to be stopped." (Picture courtesy of Curbed.)

*March 8-9: The Trump Soho tower was closed after a chain attached to equipment swung about, smashing a bunch of windows.

*March 4: A Jared Kushner building, which had been failing for months, completely collapsed near 124th Street and Park Avenue. Metro-North Hudson, Harlem and New Haven Line train service was temporarily suspended. The DOB actually admitted to screwing up on this one.

*Feb. 1: A crane collapsed at a construction site at Washington Street and Watts Streets in TriBeCa.

*Jan. 30: A worker at a 13-story building in Clinton Hill was reportedly blown from a window on the top floor due to "a wind-tunnel effect" and fell to his death.

*Jan 14: A man fell from the 42nd floor of the rising Trump Soho to his death. The wooden scaffolding he was standing on had collapses.

Is It Time for DOB Commissioner Patricia Lancaster's resignation?

Two Messages for Spitzer

The Old Town Bar, which usually goes for one long hand-written message of urban wisdom for its street-side window, had opted for two short messages this week, both aimed at New York State's fallen governor.

Just to Look At

No reason to post this old picture of Luchow's, the German eating hall that once dominated 14th Street near Broadway. It's just one of the losses to New York culture that I've always felt most keenly. It lasted 100 years exactly, from 1882 to 1982. I came to town to late to eat there, but soon enough to observe the empty, Victorian-style building (which should have been landmarked) for a few years before they finally tore it down.

Luchow's was truly a cultural landmark. During its heyday, Union Square was New York's theatre district. The beer hall was forever jammed with singers, actors and songwriters. William Steinway, a big deal in his day, ate there (his concert hall was right down the block). So did John Barrymore, Victor Herbert (who founded the ASCAP there), Arturo Caruso, Sigmund Romberg, Gus Kahn (who wrote "Yes Sir, That's My Baby" on a Luchow's tablecloth) Lillian Russell, and Weber and Fields, as well as writers O. Henry, Theodore Dreiser, O. O. McIntyre, Thomas Wolfe, and Edgar Lee Masters. Few restaurants in New York history have such a wealth of artistic associations.

There is an NYU dorm there now, and a P.C. Richards next door (on the site of the former Gramercy Gym). No artistic associations there. However, the company (still family owned) was founded in 1909, and I'd say it's a pretty good guess that the original P.C. Richards himself ate at Luchow's more than once.

Market Diner May Return

The death of Manhattan's classic diners will be stemmed a bit in a couple months when the owners of the Cosmic Diner (at Eighth and 52nd) take over the Market Diner at 43rd and 11th. The Market, a neighborhood staple since 1962, shut down in 2006, causing many a cabbie to cry. (The place had parking.)

The new owner, James Athanasopoulos, told the New York Times, "We’re making it a little bit more upscale, and will maybe have a little bar on site. We’ll probably get rid of the parking, unfortunately." Instead, he'll put in outdoor seating. Seems like an acceptable compromise to keep the place alive.

Pictures courtesy of New York Architectural Images, including the cool one below of the way it looked back in the day.

A Reminder

Montague Street's oldest restaurant and only neon sign disappear on March 16. Go have a meal and a drink or say thanks. (Don't get the house red, though—trust me.) And tip your hat to the oil portrait of Marilyn Monroe. She ate there once.

An Awkard Stage

What to do about the Stage Deli.

Typically, when the Department of Health shuts down a classic New York restaurant these days—as the DOH did today with the Midtown matzo ball soup mecca—I suspect overzealous grandstanding. The City department has been trying to prove itself worthy ever since the Village KFC-rat debacle.

But this time I shake my head over the behavior of the deli's owners. The Stage was similarly shut down in March 2006, you remember, so they're repeat offenders. This time, the City appears to have bent over backwards to help the institution. It inspected the deli on March 12, found vermin and such, but gave the restaurant two days to clear up the problem. Returning on Friday, the problem was just as bad. So, El-Shuttero.

In my book, a living public landmark is a public trust. The Stage Deli doesn't just belong to its owners; it belongs to the city. And it's the owners responsibility to keep it in good working order, so that it may flourish and continue for many years to come. If the owners can't manage that, they should sell it to someone who can. It's not like New York has so many classic delis left that it can afford to have one be killed by ineptitude.

OK, So the IS Something Good About the Harlem Rezoning

So, there is a silver lining to the could that descended on Harlem this week in the form of a rezoning that usher in a big-shiny-building area in the old Manhattan neighborhood. City Room reports that "the new zoning restricts banks. They cannot occupy the ground floor of new buildings along 125th Street, between Broadway and Second Avenue, or the ground floor of new enlargements to existing buildings. They may, however, have an entranceway or lobby on the ground floor that leads to banking space on another floor. A limited amount of ground-floor space may be devoted to automated teller machines."

Well, that's a big ol' thumbing of the nose to the banking world, which has slathered our City streets with its garish branches in recent years. Richard Barth, executive director of the City Planning Department, told City Room: “Banks can have have a deadening effect on those goals. They can take away from pedestrian activity. They’re not 24-hour uses. In many cases, they’re no more than 9-to-5 uses. And they can potentially take up space” that could be occupied for arts, entertainment or retail purposes." To that, I would add: they're ugly, and they suck.

Now, how about a big-box drug store clause...

DOB Has No Plans for Rat-Squirrel House

The Department of Building, showing its usual alertness, has said it has no plans for the Rat Squirrel House of Cobble Hill beyond the ramshackle scaffolding it had put in place a couple weeks back.

New York 1—which did a report on the long-in-decay modern ruin in February, after Lost City began to write about the fascinated disaster (in which the owner lived, until recently)—returned to the scene of the crime recently for a follow-up. According to the March 11 account:

...at present the city has no plans to conduct further emergency work on the decaying structure, which is a major concern for parents who walk their children along this block on their way to and from school every day.

Guess that building that recently fell down in Harlem taught them nothing.

Too Funny

From Eater. New Yorkers read the news, roll with the punches, and then sit down and eat a sandwich.

History in a Starbucks: 1841 Broadway

Did you ever hear of the Automobile District? Me neither, but apparently it was along Broadway in the west 50s and 60s during the early part of the 20th century, including 1841 Broadway, now home to a Columbus Circle Starbucks. If you were in the auto game and didn't own a building along this stretch, you were nobody! In 1921, a company leased 1841, the then eight-story building that stood at the northwest corner of Broadway and 60th, to devote it "to the automobile trade." Don't know which company.

Had this Starbucks existed anytime between 1901 and 1935, coffee drinkers would have looked across the street at the long-slung Circle Theatre, a vaudeville house that was one of the most northerly Broadway theatres every built. During a theatre labor dispute in 1935, the lobby was blown up. Now that's entertainment! After that the theatre was sold and remodeled as a roller rink.

Can't be sure from an old photo I have, but it looks like, during the early years of the Circle, and presumedly before the auto era, 1841 was a restaurant. Would make sense. Even back then, I'm sure folks wanted to eat before and/or after the show.

Some Stuff That's Interesting

These photos of the inside of Admirals' Row are not to be missed. Ruins have rarely been so romantic.

The City tells Clarett to stop whatever it is they're doing at 340 Court Street.

There is no such thing as good Brooklyn mail service.

This pompous jerk , for giving $100 mil to the New York Public Library, will get his stupid name chiseled on the flagship Fifth Avenue building.

Banking on Summer

While the Two Trees development on Atlantic Avenue next to the old Independence Bank has shot up like the proverbial weed, and is nearly done, the bank itself, trumpeted to be home to Brooklyn's first Trader Joe's, has been the quietest address in town. Nary a nail pounded in for months.

But hope remains, apparently. Wondering what was going on, I wrote directly to Trader Joe's headquarters, and got a pleasant response the same day from a regional vice president. He said the build out could begin as soon as next week and work would take from four to five months. That would mean summer shopping for Brooklynites. Hey, it's better than a kick in the teeth.

Three Classic Eateries in the News

Two cherished old Manhattan restaurants and one cherished Brooklyn eatery made news today—bad for two, and potentially good for the other.

Florent, the cherished Meatpacking District late-night haunt that has a scummy, greedy landlord ("Me want 50 grand a month or I murderize you"), has named June 29 as its last day on Earth. I talked to my lawyer and [the restaurant] will stay open for two or three months. I'd like to end on a high note and I think Gay Pride Day would be perfect," Florent Morellet told the New York Post.

The restaurant that will supplant Brooklyn Heights mainstay Armando's has been revealed to be, uh, Spicy Pickle. This is apparently the unfortunate name of a Denver-based sandwich chain with franchises in 14 states. It's website says it's a leader in the "fast-casual" concept of dining, which is sort of like saying one's leader in the "good-bad" food movement.

Meanwhile, restauranteur Keith McNally's purchase of the immortal Minetta Tavern in Greenwich Village has been confirmed. He appeared before Community Board 2 to outline his plans (that's him above), according to Eater:

The menu will be French, (shocker), but the interior will remain unchanged.
2) The plan is to have 83 seats, with a capacity of 95, but due to a technicality, only a 75 person capacity was approved as of last night.

There was some minor opposition from neighbors concerned about noise and the possibility of "idling limos," but in the end, the motion passed unanimously, and the license is off to the SLA.

Since he's respecting the interior of the place, I'm fairly content. The food could use a kick in the pants, so let him at it. And there's nothing wrong with drawing a new, fresh crowd to a great, historic address.

Where's Amy Ruth's?

Where's Amy Ruth's of Brooklyn?

Last we heard, the Harlem-born soul-food joint was to have a grand opening in the Gage & Tollner space on Valentine's Day. I meant to be there, but couldn't make it. And then, yesterday, I walked by the address and the restaurant's not even open.

A call to the Harlem Amy Ruth's confirmed the eatery did not make its Feb. 14 target. They said they're still coming to Fulton Mall, but have no definite date, only "spring." Maybe Arbor Day?

Peering in the windows, I caught sight of the old "Gage & Tollner" lettering etched into the front windows and got a little misty.

Nice Work on Henry and Degraw

I don't know who's behind the work on the building at the Cobble Hill corner of Degraw and Henry Streets (northeast corner), but I'd like to say I'm generally impressed so far at the imagination and thoughtfulness as work.

The structure, as I've pointing out before, was previously a boxy, white-brick thing that resembled nothing so much a branch of DMV. The new owners have been busy shearing the walls of the ugly white brick, recovering the red brick underneath (or possibly adding new red brick). In addition, they've added some welcome dimension to the Degraw Street wall by constructing a couple faux-chimneys, giving it a charming, castle-like facade. And it appears the Henry Street roof is to get three, spanking new dormer windows. I love me some dormer windows.

It's a prominent building, and the changes will give neighborhood citizens something far more pleasant to look at than was previously the case.

Some Stuff That's About Harlem

The City Fathers pushed through the rezoning of 125th Street yesterday, and, as Curbed points out, the furor began this morning. Did we expect anything else?

The Daily News charted the unpleasant reaction when the Planning Commission revealed their vote, with one resident saying "They want it to look like 86th St.," which has evolved into a serious epithet in recent months. Nobody wants to look like 86th Street.

The conservative New York Post also gave the negative reaction good coverage, helping to make an anti-development celebrity out of Michael Henry Adams, an architectural historian and author of "Harlem Lost & Found." Adam blew a gasket at the meet, screaming at the commission's chairwoman, Amanda "Park Avenue" Burden, "You're a rich, rich, rich horrible person. You're destroying our communities. You're a rich, rich socialite. You're a rich, rich socialite. How dare you! You're destroying Harlem. You're getting rid of all the black people." Let me buy that man a drink. And a sedative.

The New York Sun didn't mention Mssr. Adams and gave the whole vote a fairly positive twist.

I didn't see anything in the Times.

What So Hard About Lintels?

What the neo-con progress-mavens out there don't seem to get about anti-overdevelopment kvetchers like me is I'm not against development in New York City per se; I'm against the kind of development that is taking place. What's wrong with it, you ask impatiently through clenched teeth? Aside from it being, on the whole, too big? (Actually, the neo-cons would ask that last part—I just added it on.)

I think I can nail the problem in one word: lintels. What's so hard about lintels? Decorative lintels, I mean. Attractive, contributing lintels. Are they so hard to make? Are they so god-awful expensive that they can't be crowbarred into your construction budget? Do you hate them because they're beautiful? What is it? Why won't developers feature them in their designs?

OK, first a little Architecture 101, just in case folks are scratching their heads, thinking I'm talking about beans or something. Lintels are those horizontal features that cap windows and doors. In classical times, they serves a practical, load-bearing function, but for many centuries since they've been put to mainly ornamental use. Along with cornices and stoops, they're what make well-preserved brownstones look so great and make people want to live in them. Just look out your window. You'll see lintels everywhere, carved and molded in just about any shape.

Modern developers and architects can't be bothered with lintels. They cut out an unadorned rectangle for each window, stick a pane of glass in there, and leave it at that. Sometimes they make the barest of efforts, placing a simple strip of white stone above the window. The lack of lintels, I am convinced, is the primary reason that most new condo complexes and apartment houses are such eyesores. They are composed of flat, featureless sheets of brick or cement. A lack of cornices, pilasters, grand entranceways and attractive window panes certainly hurt the cause, but lintels are mainly what you're missing when you gaze on a new structure and feel empty inside.

See the picture above, of two similarly sized buildings side by side? On the left, you have an old structure with old lintels. On the right, a new work with zero lintels. Where would you want to live? More importantly, which address would you rather look at as you pass down the street?

Everything looks better framed, and windows are no exception. Here's a building in Tribeca. Not bad. At least the builder is trying to mix up the brickface a bit.

But here's an older building across the street. Look at the lively, handsome detail of those arching lintels, and the unusual shape that the lintels insist the windows be. There's no contest.

One can find illustrations of the visual value imparted by lintels throughout the City. Here's one on the Upper West Side. On the left, graceful, garlanded austerity. On the right, slapdash angled crap avec vents.

And when you get lintelless building next to lintelless building, you start to enter Soviet Bloc territory. This wall of air-conditioned, four-square crapitecture in Brooklyn just about makes you want to take your own life.

That is, until you walk a few yards down and are saved by this vision. What an interesting and individual facade. Someone must have actually given a damn.

If I wanted to do today's developers a favor (and I don't, I really, really don't), I'd tell them to start incorporating lintels into their designs. They'd have so much the easier time with community boards.

Doctor, My Eyes

Oh, this is insufferable.

Seemingly overnight, Capital One is no longer a credit card in many New Yorkers' wallets. It's a bank, with branches friggin' everywhere!

The moneylending giant took over North Fork Bank, I have now learned. On March 10. But I began to see the signs March 9. The workmen must have brought them in under cover of darkness. Funny, I never really used to notice those forest-green North Fork signs much. But the Capital One signs stand out like beacons. They look just like the logo on the credit cards—which, if you get a monthly bill from these guys, is enough to make you flinch. So, great. Now, not only does the company regularly screw me on fees and finances charges, but they deface my surroundings.

This also leads us to another important question. In 21st century America, must all major banks begin with a "C"? Chase, Citibank, Commerce, Capital One. Watch your back, Bank of America!

Oh Happy Day! The Vendors Previal!

This is certainly strange timing. One day after I complained about the smoke screen the Parks Department was putting out about the Red Hook Park concessions competition, the office sent out this happy and surprising news (I'm reprinting the whole press release because, well, it's not often you want to reprint a whole press release):

Parks Commissioner Adrian Benepe today announced the awarding of a permit to the Food Vendors Committee of Red Hook Park, the same organization synonymous with Latin American delicacies in Red Hook. The permit is effective for a six-year term and will allow them to operate an ethnic and specialty food market in Red Hook Park, Brooklyn.

"One of the great New York City pleasures is enjoying tacos, huaraches and other fine Latin American cuisine at Red Hook Park," said Commissioner Benepe. "The Parks Department is happy to keep this longstanding tradition in place by awarding a permit to the Food Vendors Committee of Red Hook Park."

"These vendors have made the Red Hook ball fields a destination for soccer fans and foodies alike, and I applaud the Parks Department for recognizing the value they bring both to Brooklyn and the New York culinary scene," said U.S. Senator Charles Schumer. "Over the past fifteen years, the vendors have been at the vanguard of the Red Hook Renaissance, and now they have another six years to continue their delectable work. I look forward to visiting the ball fields again soon and supporting this Brooklyn treasure."

"On behalf of the Red Hook food vendors, we are thrilled to be able to continue our 33-year-old tradition," said Cesar Fuentes, Executive Director of the Food Vendors Committee of Red Hook Park Inc. "We have the best intentions to create an even better food market with the assistance of New York City Parks and the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene. It is a beautiful thing to be able to combine culture, cuisine and recreation together to enhance the park’s experience which is so vital to an urban center. To be able to get in the city what you would get in a rural area, fresh wholesome food, is really fantastic. Thanks to New York City Parks for being proactive in supporting this type of small affair of artisan vendors.'

The Parks Department issued a Request for Proposals (RFP) for food vending at Red Hook Park earlier this year. When making a determination, Parks looked at factors including planned operations, variety of cuisine, prior operating experience, fee offer and financial capacity. Any required permits or licenses from the NYC Department of Health and Mental Hygiene must be obtained separately.

In recent years, vendors have drawn New Yorkers to Red Hook Park, through selling Mexican, Central American, South American and Caribbean specialties. Originally, temporary permits were issued but as the vendors gradually became a permanent fixture, it became clear that a permanent permit was required to best comply with city concession regulations.

The Parks Department also acknowledges the efforts of Senator Schumer, Congress Member Nydia Velasquez, Borough President Marty Markowitz, Council Member Sara Gonzalez, Assembly Member Felix Ortiz, Borough Commissioner Julius Spiegel and Assistant Commissioner Betsy Smith for all of their work on behalf of the vendors and the park.

I put that one phrase in bold because it just gives me pause. It reads like an back door excuse for the City to shut down the vendors anyway. The DOH has been such a Puritanical pain lately. That aside, I am overjoyed that the tacos, huaraches and other delicacies that Benepe and I so enjoy will be back again this summer. And for six years! By that time, we'll have another administration, one that doesn't bully creators of good food and urban tradition. Andre, the first ear of grilled corn slathered in cheese is on me.

P.S.—I still want to know who those masked competitors for the vendors' spot were.

A Pleasant Exchange

It's fairly common to find ancient store signs in New York City that feature the old-style phone numbers, with the two-letter exchange preceding the five-digit number. To see such a phone number in neon—as is the case with this small liquor store on upper Broadway—is more unusual.

The TR exchange stood for Trafalgar, I believe. It's a pretty solid phone number, easy to remember. Perhaps that's why the shop has kept it. Or maybe they saw no need to replace a perfectly functioning neon sign.

A Survivor

Cemusa hasn't gotten this newsstand yet, on the Upper West Side in the lower 90s.

A Good Sign: Barney Greengrass

The classic appetizing store and luncheon place at Amsterdam and 86th. Everything about this place screams New York and it is justifiably packed every weekend. May it never fade from view.

Parks Department Sends Back Weasley Response

OK, back in mid-February, when I learned (through The Village Voice) that the Red Hook Ballfields food vendors would be competing for their long-held turf against "two unidentified groups [who] will also bid to run the thriving weekend food market," I sent the Parks Department an e-mail. Who were the anonymous bidders, I asked, thinking I was well within my rights as a citizen to ask.

Today, a speedy three weeks later, I got my reply. Here it is:

Dear Mr. Sheffield:

Thank you for your letter regarding the Red Hook vendors.

We cannot confirm the report in the Village Voice and confidentiality rules prohibit us from saying who responded to the RFP.

We appreciate your interest in Parks.

Sincerely,

Phil Abramson
Office of Public Affairs

That was it.

Now, I'm not playing dumb here. Would someone please explain this to me? Why should they be anonymous? Why should they wish to be anonymous? And, furthermore, why should the Park Department want to protect their anonymity? Red Hook Park is a public park, right? It belongs to the City, which is to say it belongs to the people. Maybe the people don't dictate what goes on in the park, per se—that's what elected and appointed officials are for—but isn't there a certain right to know? Shouldn't the process of running the parks be laid out in the open for all to see and comment on?

If McDonald's or Dunkin' Donuts has an interest in selling its stuff in Red Hook Park, why should their interest be kept a secret from those who use the park? How, by any stretch of the imagination, is that a fair or decent way to conduct park business?

Wanting to learn more, I went to the Parks Dept. website are found this:

In 1989, the Revised City Charter established the City's Franchise and Concession Review Committee (FCRC) and required that all concessions be awarded through a public solicitation process outlined by the FCRC rules.

FCRC rules. Whazzat? So I looked it up. It stands for Franchise and Concession Review Committee. And this is what I learned about that committee:

The City grants franchises and concessions in accordance with Chapter 14 of the City Charter and the rules proscribed by the Franchise and Concession Review Committee (FCRC). Awards are made in a manner similar to the procurement process, i.e., by using RFPs or competitive sealed bids. MOCS oversees and certifies agency compliance with the applicable laws and regulations for franchises and concessions...

FCRC is comprised of six members - two appointees representing the Mayor, one representing the Law Department, one representing the Office of Management and Budget (OMB), one representing the Comptroller, and one representative from each of the five Borough Presidents, who as a group cast one vote in accord with the location of the franchise or concession at issue.

To award a franchise, the FCRC must conduct a public hearing and approve the franchisee with at least five votes. Concessions, depending on their award method, may or may not require FCRC approval. Awards solicited through competitive sealed bids never require FCRC approval.

Public hearings are held for all "significant" concessions, i.e., those awarded via a method other than competitive sealed bid that either have a term of 10 years or more, or will result in projected annual income to the City of more than $100,000. Concessions awarded via sole source or any other non-competitive method require two FCRC approvals, each with at least four votes. Preliminary approval is required to allow the agency to enter into negotiations. If the concession is significant, a hearing is required. Regardless of the necessity of a hearing a vote is required to finalize the award.

The boldface lines are mine. Now, I don't pretend to understand all the legalese above, but, it would seem the Red Hook Ballfields bidding is a "competitive sealed bid" matter. Also, it is not "significant," since I've heard nothing about any kind of public hearing. So, if I get what I'm reading, the decision about who gets to vend in Red Hook Park will be made without FCRC approval, and without a hearing. The Parks Dept. can just hand it down from on high to whomever it wants.

So, the system is obviously rigged in this case. Big surprise. Still, I have a few questions. I understand the bids are sealed. But does that necessarily mean that the identity of the people who make the bids should also remain a secret? And is this competition really not "significant"?; surely the City stands to make more than $100,000 off whoever wins the right to sell in Red Hook Park.

Before I am accused of being hopelessly naive about the governmental process concerning public parks, let me just say I am no Robert Moses; I don't know how to decipher opaque government language in the wink of an eye. I am aware I may not be fully grasping the meaning behind all this verbiage. If so, please speak up; I welcome anyone out there to explain how this whole bidding system works. But I will be very surprised if anyone gives me an explanation that justifies the bidders for Red Hook Park's need to hide behind masks.

Some Stuff That's Interesting

The Water View Diner in Howard Beach, there for more than 30 years, gave up the ghost this week.

Department of Building admits it's fallible.

The system has finally fucked up one the last refuges of the City's poor and middle class: Pizza. An average slice will now set you back $2.50 to $3! And I used to get steamed at paying more than a $1.25.

Queens waits on Burden.

What's Weird and Old about Visiting the Bathroom at the Belasco

<
Many of the Broadway theatres are musty, fusty affairs, with all sorts of arcane, antique details in every corner, particularly as you make your way to the often antiquated bathrooms. Nothing, however, beats the Belasco Theatre for quaint queerness.

The men's bathroom is down a flight from the orchestra seats. You reach the stairs through a dark wooden door with a round window in it and "Gentleman" written in gold script at the top. Inside in an arch of similar dark wood and gold script, just in case you didn't believe the designation on the door.


You walk downstairs past some murky murals and an ancient fire alarm installed by the National District Telegraph Co. It's open to inspect. Bunch of aging wires inside. Let's hope this isn't still the Belasco fire-protection plan.


Downstairs, in front of the bathroom entrance (labeled "Lavatory") is an odd, flat chandelier, completely out of proportion for the small room. To the left is a working phone booth and a small, wooden grandfather clock of mysterious origin. Supposedly, there's a legend attached to it, but I've never been able to find out what it is. There is also an ice-maker. What? Are we in a motel?



Inside the bathroom is a huge porcelain sink with double basins—surely the original item from when the theatre was built. There may be a more eccentric public bathroom in Manhattan, but I doubt it. Makes me wonder what the ladies room is like.

People Who Build Glass Houses...

I usually don't post rendering of coming crapitecture on this site. There's just too much ground to cover, so I leave it to the capable folks at Curbed and Brownstoner. But every now and then, there's a proposal so horrendously awful I must single it out and risk offending my readers' eyes.

Look at this thing. Look at this big glass box that's supposed to rise on Fulton Mall. Isn't that the prism thing General Zod and those bad Krypton outlaws were trapped in at the end of "Superman II" when they were hurled back into space? Will the public be allowed to grow their orchids inside? Can we show movies on the walls on warm summer nights? Have the developers set aside an significant budget for window-washers?

The builder, United American Land (what kind of mindfuck Nazi name is that?) said the building will have retail on the bottom two floors and luxury condos up top. It's part of their plan to revitalized Fulton Street. I've got a better idea for improving the street: don't build it.

Bye Bye Bistro

Le Madeleine, the well-established and well-loved French bistro on W. 43rd in the Theatre District which has been fighting for its life for a year or so, may have finally lost the battle.

A source cited on Eater says the restaurant, founded in 1979, has "lost their appeal to be evicted and they could be closing on a days notice once the landlord serves the eviction notice."

"It could be one week or two weeks until we close," the restaurant told Eater. "We are just waiting for the ball to drop." Reps for the restaurant say they are looking for a new space.

It's sad to lose such a civilized place which has kept up its standards and charm without fail for 30 years. 1979! Can you imagine what the area must have been like back then? Taxi Driver time. Le Madeleine must have seemed like port in a storm.

Joe Gould's Watching You

Whoever is getting their grubby mitts on the Minetta Tavern better know how to take care of it.

Eater reports that the landmark watering hole—one of the few genuine vestiges of old Greenwich Village left—may be changing hands. The buyer may be Keith McNally, who owns about 100 restaurants in town. Reports Eater:

...there is this interesting item on the upcoming agenda for the CB2 Business Committee: Minetta Lane, LLC at 111-113 MacDougal St. is applying for a liquor license transfer. This by no means confirms any involvement of one Sir McNally, nor does it unconfirm it certainly, but it does look like someone, something, sometime, soon, is happening the 71-year-old West Villager.

The Minetta has been on the corner of Macdougal and Minetta Lane since 1937. It has long been a haunt of writers and artists, the pictures and caricatures of many of whom are on the tavern walls. The place is perhaps best known for its association with Joe Gould, the quintessential Village eccentric and bohemian who was lionized by New York writer Joseph Mitchell. Gould used to cadge drinks off strangers with bits of his writing and his famous "seagull" imitation, and talk endlessly of his open, "An Oral History of Our Time," which he never finished, and probably never began. There's an oil portrait of old Joe on one of the walls.

Lost City in the News

Recently, I was interviewed by George Bodarky, an intrepid and friendly reporter (and assistant news director) at WFUV 90.7 FM, the Public Radio station that's run out of Fordham University in the Bronx. We stood outside the closed doors of the Brooklyn Inn in Boerum Hill and I yammered on quite a bit about the City, what I cherished about it and what I thought it was losing in the current development boom.

I don't remember much what I said, so I'm probably going to tune in on Saturday morning at 7:30 AM to listen in on the interview. You're welcome to, too. The piece will be part of a weekly program they have there called "Cityscape," which runs a half hour until 8 AM.

Now Find Out What Realtors Really Mean

The Angry New York blog has taken my recent Developspeak-to-English translation one step further and composed a Realtor-to-English translation. It begins with:

Statement: "I have a cozy studio apartment you’d love"
Translation: "A landlord just made a storage closet into an apartment and is looking for suckers"

Take a look to read the rest.

Office-Holding Truthteller Spotted in Carroll Gardens

Who is Tony Avella? I didn't know until reading a post on Brownstoner about the March 3 community meeting at Carroll Gardens' St. Mary’s Star of the Sea Residences about the Toll Brothers proposal to develop 577 housing units alongside the lovely Gowanus Canal.

Avella, a Queens City Councilman, was there. And I like the way this guy talks. He says things we're all thinking, but no one in power will admit. "Development projects will always be put on the front burner," he said, according to Brownstoner. "It has nothing to do with a project’s merit. It has to do with the mayor thinking that’s what the city needs. The real estate industry controls the agenda in this city."

Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Say it, Tony! Goddam, it's good to hear someone with knowledge of the inside workings of City Hall to confirm what we all suspect. I understand this man wants to be mayor in 2009. (Forgive me for not have tracked this fact to date.) I will be following his progress with interest.

DOB Gives Rats and Squirrels a Leg Up

The decrepit Rat Squirrel House in Cobble Hill, which is now encased in scaffolding, thanks for the Department of Building, has long had a permanently open window on its top floor. Now, however, it has an open window on the third floor as well.

The bottom pane of the far left window has been pushed in. I think it's pretty safe to say this is the work of a rat or squirrel or other varmint who, due to the new scaffolding, was now able to reach that floor. Just jump onto the plywood, lean against the window and presto—you're a critter who's bunking down landmark-style tonight!

Meanwhile, I found out a couple more things about the place. The house was built in 1901. And and in January, the address lost more than a third of its value, according to Department of Finance records, plummeting from a $1,313,000 valuation to $884,000, which is described as "tentative." Ha! I'll bet it's tentative.

A Good Sign: Jeanette's Cards and Gifts

I saw something about this recently uncovered old sign at Madison and 33rd on the AM New York website. It looked so enchanting I decided to check it out and take a few pictures before it's covered up again. Below is another extant Barton's candy sign I found last year at 64th and Second. That candy sure got around.

What Winter Was in Brooklyn

I came across this illustration in the Brooklyn Eagle archives of Borough Hall during the Great Blizzard on 1899. This was the enormous, country-wide snowstorm that plunged the nation into unprecented cold and snow for several days. I find the drawing quite touching in its simplicity.

The Ghost Horses of Verandah Place

In keeping with today's Verandah Place them, let my hereby relate the tragic tale that I recently learned is connected to Nos. 22 and 24 of that peaceful passageway.

Like many of the addresses on this street, 22 and 24 operated as a livery stable in the 19th century. This particular one, according to a story in the New York Times published back in 1873, was owned by one Patrick McIntyre. The building was set up like this: five horses on the basement floor, carriages on the first, 12 horses on the second and coachman John Jackson and family at the top.

On May 25, 1873, the basement caught on fire in the early hours of the morning. The people up top got out all right, but citizens and firefighters could find no way to free the horses. All 17 animals died from burns and suffocation. It was thought the fire was started by a drunken stable man who returned to the building a half hour before the blaze began and lit his pipe among the straw in the basement.

An Idle Concern

I have always had an interest in this lovely old three-story building at 379 Henry Street, at the corner of the sweet alley known as Verandah Place. It has an understated eminence that I like. I've tried to find out something about its history. City records indicate it used to be a store of some kind—something you might guess by the positioning of the corner, ground-floor window, which obviously used to be a door. Otherwise, I can discover nothing.

Is there anyone out there who might be able to furnish some information on the history of this building?

The Language of Developers, and How to Understand It

Gotham Developers sound so unfailingly positive and cheery when they talk about their plans. Whatever they're doing, it's for the good of the people, for the good of the City. There's no downside. Everyone will benefit. They've selflessly considered every constituency while devising their project before ever once thinking of themselves.

Having listened my a good share of Utopian bullshit over the past few years, I've learned how to decrypt the real estate man and pro-developer pol's special brand of Pollyanna-ish doublespeak. Here, for your guidance, is a brief primer:

Statement: "Our design is meant to respect the historical and architectural context of the neighborhood."
Translation: "This building is not as big and ugly as we'd like it to be."

Statement: "We support the approval process."
Translation: "We promised City Hall we'd go through the motions."

Statement: "Community support is very important to us."
Translation: "We'd much prefer it if you didn't complain about what we're doing."

Statement: "What makes this city so vibrant is its capacity to change."
Translation: "Let me do what I want to do."

Statement: "We are interested in the future of the neighborhood."
Translation: "You won't recognize the place when we're through with it."

Statement: "Not every building can be preserved."
Translation: "That old thing that's in the way of our development has to come down."

Statement: "We want to expand opportunities for the creation of housing."
Translation: "We want to build luxury condos."

Statement: "This neighborhood desperately needs affordable housing."
Translation: "We want to build luxury condos."

Statement: "New York is a city rich with history."
Translation: "Go visit the museum."

Statement: "We value feedback from the community."
Translation: "Shut up already! We'll change it!"

A Good Sign: Sunny's Bar

I thought, since Sunny's Bar, the legendary Flying Dutchman of Red Hook bars, is open so seldomly, I'd post this photo. This is the unique neon sign that light in the front window whenever the maritime watering hole is in operation.

Some Stuff That's Interesting

The New York Times pays a little attention to the great JJ Hat Center. (Smashing photograph above.)

Citizens participated in a rally at St. Savoir's; local politicians did not.

A coffee tree grows in Brooklyn.

Bloomberg can't get past the idea that he belongs in The White House.

Wikipedia is fatalistic about Chumley's. According to its entry, the speakeasy has closed "forever."

"The Nature of New York Is Change"

People say this to me a lot whenever I start bitching about this development or that condo tower or a lost landmark. Not sure why they say it, or what immovable truth they think the comment contains. Perhaps they think its a nugget of insoluble wisdom which can't be shaken by any fact or argument. Perhaps they just don't want to think about what I've just said and want the bat away my grievances, because the line at Starbucks is getting long and they've gotta go.

Gentle readers: I know that change is a part of life in New York City and ever was. I embrace the idea. It has given us the varied, endlessly fascinated jigsaw of a metropolis we have today. It has made Gotham the greatest urban archaeological site in the nation.

But the people who like to employ this phrase are not thinking about that. Neither are they looking for a discussion or argument. And this is one of the reasons why I object to the comment. It's meant as a shut-down switch, as a brick wall against which the preservationist must flatten his nose. It says "There is no greater validity to any other civic idea than that of change, so don't even try."

The phrase seems to stop the people who say it from thinking further, or thinking at all. If they did, they might consider a few things. For one: Yes, the nature (or one of the natures) of New York City is change. But does that mean it is always good? Should we accept each proposal or development that comes along simply because it represents "change"? Or should we look at who's putting forth the idea and what they plan to change? Is the thing being looked at better changed or better left unchanged?

The statement is often presented in a revised version that goes, "Change is inevitable in New York." This wording is more objectionable because it seems to indicate that whatever the change that is coming, we shouldn't even try to resist it. We should behave ourselves, accept our fate and let the forces of power and influence roll right over us. I just don't understand this. Moses' Mid-Manhattan freeway wasn't inevitable. The destruction of Grand Central Terminal wasn't inevitable. They were ideas for change, and bad ideas, too. The people was right to reject them.

Another thing: I've long suspected that when people trot out this retort, the word "change" is used only as a euphemism for "money." For most of the changes that occur in the City and are argued in the press and on the sidewalks are motivated by money. Developments that will make the builders money. New chain store branches that will make their corporations money. Landlords who jack up the rent, forcing out valuable businesses, so they can make more money. And people don't like it when you get in the way of their cash flow, whether you be an individual, a neighborhood, a community board, an activist, a mayor or a mere blogger. "You object to my new development? Why, you dunderhead, don't you know that the Nature of New York is Money, er, Change?"

This phrase needs to be retired for good. The statement does not confer an air of wisdom on the speaker. It is a gigantic and insulting shrug that shows you don't care a whit for the City, and aren't willing to lift a finger on its behalf. You've got a proposal to change some part of New York? Fine. Change is welcome here. We're all about change. But tell us why your change is good, why it will profit the City (and not just you). Don't just tell us it is good because it is change.