The Price Is Right

Really, in my heart of hearts, what I feel every slice of pizza should cost in NYC.

Butcher Chic

The other night, I passed by the storefront at 168 Bedford in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and found it occupied by a self-conscious eatery called Peter's Since 1969. Obviously, Peter's hasn't been here since 1969. The name of the place is a reference to the butcher it replaced: Peter Kuper of B&B Meat Market. So is the decor, which retains the meat market's white tile walls and many of the business' accoutrements, like the cutting table that once stood behind the counter.

I tend to like this sort of historically referencing retro decor. It's better than having the entire previous history of the space wiped off the map. But the contrivance is becoming so common, it's beginning to irritate me. It's as if the owners what me to congratulate them for being cool with the fact that their place used to be a blue collar enterprise. They're New Worlders hip to the Old World. Fine. I guess. I just would rather have the butcher back.

Comings and Goings on Union

Restaurant change is coming to the block of Union Street between Hicks and Columbia. The long-awaited Calexico, announced way back as the new tenant in the old Schnack space, has painted a hopeful, and succinct, message near its door. Might there be burritos in May?

On a sadder note, a couple doors down, it looks like the long-suffering Korhogo 126 has decided to throw in the towel. The space used to be Bouillabaisse 126 and never quite caught on in its new incarnation. Too bad.

Ye Olde Sign to Ye Olde Chop House

For decades, until it died in the 1970s, Ye Olde Chop Shop on Cedar Street was the oldest restaurant in New York City. It was founded in 1800 as Old Tom's Chop Shop. No eatery ever came close in age.

Nothing remains of the place—not even that many memories. Or so I thought, until yesterday. A reader wrote in saying a friend of his, Billy Ahearn, the owner of the downtown bar Suspenders Restaurant and Bar, was in possession of the original sign for Ye Olde Chop Shop.

What? Could this be true? The way the reader told the story, Ahearn, a retired NYC fire lieutenant, was beginning construction on Suspenders, which is located at 111 Broadway, nearly opposite the end of Pine Street, when he discovered the wooden sign, along with an old Chop House menu. I asked the reader if she could convince Ahearn to take a photo of the sign, which now hangs in his basement. He did. There it is above.


The story would seem to pan out. Ye Olde Chop House began life at 108 Cedar, then moved to 118 Cedar. But the last leg of its life was spent at 111 Broadway. And what other sign is going to say "Established 1800"? It's hard to tell how old the sign is. It could have been made as recently as 40 years ago, and fashioned to look old. But I don't know—it looks damned old to me. And whatever it's age, it's a bonafide artifact of one of the most famous restaurants to ever grace New York.

More on Manny's Music

AMNY has an article on the fate of Manny's Music today, quoting yours truly. Here it is:

Manny's May Be Saved

By Emily Hulme

For weeks, it looked like Manny’s Music was singing its swan song, but the midtown staple might keep selling guitars for years to come.

The landlord of the Music Row business, the Rockefeller Group, said yesterday it has been in negotiations with Sam Ash Music, the owner of Manny’s, for up to a year to extend the lease for the shop, a staple on 48th Street since 1935.

Manny’s did not respond to calls for comment.

Earlier this month, Manny’s owner Paul Ash retracted a statement he made to the New York Post saying that the Rockefeller Group failed to renew the lease.

“We were surprised and disappointed by Paul Ash’s statements in the NY Post on April 6 saying that the landlord has chosen not to renew the lease for the property occupied by Manny’s Music,” said Sandra Manley, Rockefeller Group spokeswoman. “As the landlord, we would be happy to have Manny’s Music continue as a tenant in the building.”

In his retraction to the Post, Ash said: “We have not made a final decision regarding whether to continue the Manny’s business or to use the location for a Sam Ash store. Any decision regarding the future of the Manny’s business will be solely our own.”

Regardless of Manny’s fate, other owners on Music Row fear the strip, where stars as big as The Beatles and U2 shopped, fear the stores will one day be gone.

“There was nothing but music when I opened,” said Rudy Pensa, who opened Rudy’s Music in 1978. “It was 15 music stores, now we are four.”

The culprit, of course, has been rising rents in around Times Square.

Pensa hasn’t been pressured to move yet, but expects it any day.

“I think it’s getting close to the end of an era, not just for Manny’s but for all of 48th, which is really, really bad, for the heart of the city.” He said. “But what are we going to do? I’ll be here until I can be here.”

The blogger on Lost City, who writes under the name Brooks of Sheffield, first reported on Manny’s troubles, and agreed that Music Row is on life support.

“It’s fairly inevitable, since Manny's and much of the other music-related stores on the street are owned by Sam Ash,” he said. “And Ash management, in their comments, have been pretty fatalistic about Music Row's future. If Ash won't
fight for Music Row's survival, who will?”

But not everyone is predicting the worst.

“Obviously [Manny’s is] an institution so people are curious as to why it’s closing,” said Mike Rock, a manager at the Sam Ash guitar store said before the latest news of Manny’s possible survival. “But as far as I know, we’re not going anywhere.”

I'm sorry, but every time I read something new about Manny's, I get more confused. Now, who actually holds the fate of Manny's in their hands? Sam Ash or Rockefeller Center?

Chez Brigette Still Empty After Nearly a Year

One of the more frustrating aspects of the Great Recession is that it bitterly highlights of o'er-hasty actions that rapacious landlords took prior to September 2008, when they were still confident that kicking a steady tenant to the curb was a good idea, because there was bound to be someone around the corner just itching to take the space at twice the rent.

In June 2008, the tiny, endearing Chez Brigitte was forced to vacate its Greenwich Avenue space after half a century, because its lease was up and the rent had doubled. Here it is, nearly May 2009, and the address is still empty and looking mighty sad, too.

Does anyone at the brokerage firm learn, though? No. It's was listed at Walker Malloy $7,500 a month then, and it's listed at $7,500 a month now.

Blues in the Night

That awful blue finger building in the Lower East Side, at dusk. Almost makes you hate it a bit less, what with the blue background, etc. Almost.

3 Roses Bar 1986

Aonghais MacInnes, a member of the Lost City Flickr Pool, recently sent in this fascinating, absolutely wonderful photo of the 3 Roses Bar, a dive that used to exist on Canal Street. I never experienced the 3 Roses, I'm sad to say. It appears to have disappeared by the mid-90s. But it's hard to imagine a more perfect image of a dive, what with the obscuring shadows of the fire escape and the three fantastically seedy signs.

Aonghais MacInnes, who took the shot in 1986, has this to say about the joint: "This bar was across from the Post Office on Canal Street, and it was the kind of place where you could walk in, throw up on the bar and the bartender would hand you a towel to clean it up and then pour you a drink. And I am totally serious."

IKEA's Erie Basin Park Unlettered

In the past, I've praised the maritime-themed Erie Basin Park that IKEA built in Red Hook as a sop to the surrounding community. It's spacious, well-groomed, brings you close to the waterside and incorporates a lot of interesting detritus from Red Hook's shipping days.

Perhaps I was to hasty in my accolades, because parts of the park also appear to be damn cheaply made.


One of the aspects of the park I had liked best were rows on large cement chocks ("A heavy fitting of metal or wood with two jaws curving inward, through which a rope or cable may be run"), on which, in metal letters, are the the names of 24 vessels that were once put in dry dock on the site. It seemed a nice, and informative, nod to Red Hook's history.


Well, that tribute lasted less than a year. Visiting the park this weekend, I found that a good number of the chocks had been vandalized. Letters had been pulled out of the chocks, perverting the names of the mighty ships. The "President Van Buren" is now the "President Van Ure." The "Esso Brooklyn" is now the "Es O Br Klyn." Easily, 20 ship names have been defaced.


I would place blame squarely at the feet of the vandals—who, I'm guessing, tossed the letters into the bay once they had yanked them out, and who appear to have been lazy scofflaws, since they only vandalized the chocks near the entrance to the park, leaving the chocks further in untouched.

And, indeed, I do blame them. Red Hook has few pristine green areas. Why ruin one out of boredom, idleness and spite? But I also blame IKEA. When I first saw the metal letters, I thought them pretty securely installed. But seeing an upsidedown "U" on the sign for the Resolute, I went up to see if I could pull it out. I did so with ease. I tried a few other letters. They were all wobbly, and with a good tug I could have removed any of them. What's more, the the letters themselves are junk, made of the lightest, flimsiest metal imaginable. They were made to fall to pieces.

When, and if, IKEA gets around to replacing the letters, I hope they use qualities materials.

Another Targeted Wall

Target's getting around. Just a week after watching a painted Target ad take over a wall on Hicks Street near Union, in Brooklyn, I chanced upon this similar ad in the Village, on Christopher near Bleecker. They're both in support of the Loomstate line of organic clothing Target carries. Oh, I get it. Organic clothing, hand-painted signs. Clever.

Chumley's Grinds to a Halt Again

Six weeks ago the blogosphere was cheerfully reporting that, after months, nay years, of sitting idle, the Greenwich Village site that once held the legendary speakeasy Chumley's was showing signs of rebirth. Walls were rising. The skeletons of dormer windows were being built.

The world suddenly looked a little less bleak.

So I popped by old 86 Bedford today, expecting progress on the building to have doubled over again. And....nothing.

It looks just like it did in early March. Why? Well, a Stop Work Order might have something to do with it. The DOB issued one on March 19—less than a week after the news cycle that heralded the progress at Chumley's. Said the report: "EGRESS - LOCKED/BLOCKED/IMPROPER/NO SECONDARY MEANS. NO FDNY PERMIT PROVIDED FOR STORAGE & USE OF COMBUSTIBLE COMPRESSED GAS."

Work appears to have resumed late in March, but two more complaints of illegal work were issued on March 27 and April 16. Whatever's going on, there's not much to show for it on the outside. C'mon, guys. The weather's good. It's time to work!

Spooky-Wooky Bed-Stuy House's History Revealed

The New York Times possibly-soon-to-be-extinct City Section has a good story today about an 1860s wood-frame house with a mansard roof in Bedford-Stuyvesant that has a very strange and varied history.

You have to read the article to believe all the stuff that went down in this house. I can't decide what my favorite chapter of its history is: Its days as the residence of Hugo Toller, the party-giving, society swell scion of Eugene Tollner, co-founder of Gage & Tollner (there were pool tables on the third floor); or as the center of superfly 1970s R&B bashes frequented by the cream of the soul scene.

There's also a spooky tunnel that runs under the house that no one can explain.

Recipes of the Lost City: Tavern on the Green's Tavern Chestnut Dressing

This is the first Recipes of the Lost City to feature a restaurant that still exists. But I figure the Tavern on the Green of 1950—well before the Warner LeRoy era—was a very different beast than the one we know today. It was owned by the management of the Claremont Inn on Riverside Drive at that point.

This is a recipe for the restaurant's signature Tavern Chestnet Dressing. It's a pretty straightforward formula. Might be worth a try next Thanksgiving.

Tavern Chestnut Dressing

1 pound chestnuts, chopped
1/2 loaf white bread
3 cups water
1/2 cup chopped Virginia ham
1/2 stalk celery, chopped
2 medium onions, chopped
1 tablespoon parsley

Soak bread in 3 cups water. Add chopped ham. Brown celery and onions lightly; add bread and ham together with chestnuts, freshly boiled. Stir throughly. Bake at 300 degrees F for 15 minutes. Serve with your holiday turkey which has been roasted separately after having been stuffed with a stalk of celery and chopped onions and carrots. Top with parsley.

Previous "Recipes of the Lost City"

Lost City Asks "Who Goes to Isle of Capri?"

Typically, the restaurants I profile in the Eater feature "Who Goes There?" have long been on my radar; I just have never eaten the places in question. The Isle of Capri, however, is different. I didn't even know this restaurant existed until a month ago, when I passed it by chance and was attracted by the overall oddness of its appearance. In doing some research, I found precious few accounts of it in guides or on the internet. I was stunned to fine out it has been founded in 1955. It's funny I never saw it before, since its just down the block from Gino, Le Veau d'Or and Subway Inn—all favorites of mine. Something the East Side in the lower 60s makes time stand still.

Who Goes There? Isle of Capri

Going to the Isle of Capri, an Italian joint that has held down the southwest corner of 61st Street and Third Avenue since 1955, is like intruding on someone’s suburban house on the occasion of a large family gathering of moderate significance. I was greeted by at least four members of the owning Lamanna family within a minute after passing through the door, each with a kindly but inquiring face that seemed to say, “Who are you, and what are you doing in my home?” During my dinner there, the various clan members never ceased crossing the room, talking with friends, checking on things and generally hovering.

Some acquaintance of the family enters the eatery roughly every ten minutes, it seems. “Wine?” asked a waiter straight out of central casting (dignified air, romantic accent, pencil-thin moustache) of a beefy businessman regular. “Surprise me,” said the eater. “Are you begin taken care of?” asked another employee minutes later. “I’m always taken care of here,” said the businessman. “It’s like being at home. Maybe, it’s better.”

The living-room-like air extends to the odd, musty smell of cats that hits you when you come in. The main, red dining room is full of arches and alcoves, metalwork, cheesy statuary and family photos. If you wish to dine in private, there are many cubby holes in which to do so. The clientele is aged and loyal. (“Best Italian food in New York!” barked a diner, unsolicited, as I examined a menu while still outside. I had the veal medallions with mozzarella and prosciutto and it was perfectly fine.) The men had lived-in faces, while an alarming number of the women vaguely resembled Sylvia Miles.

The Isle of Capri has a superfluity of help. No one goes unattended to for long. The business, I was informed, began as a café, founded by Vincenzo and Maria Lamanna. Over time, they began selling cheese and prosciutto, until finally converting into a full restaurant. People still refer to a major renovation that occurred more than three decades ago. It appears to currently be run by Vincenzo’s two middle-aged daughters. The place once had a loftier reputation. Craig Claiborne praised it in the Times as “the best small Italian restaurant in New York,” and 1975 and 1976 seals of approval from Cue magazine (!) remain in the window. The family owns the building, ensuring that the Isle of Capri will remain an incongruous oddity on slick, anonymous Third Avenue as long as the Lamanna clan are desirous of a public forum in which to entertain their friends and relatives.
—Brooks of Sheffield

Amanda Burden Pisses on Brooklyn Bridge; Walentases Make Reservations in Hell

Who will City Planning debutante Amanda Burden listen to, beside herself, Mayor Bloomberg and maybe Charlie Rose? Well, not internationally respected historian and author David McCollough, that's for sure. The usually private, grey-haired eminence took an extraordinary step recently by speaking out publicly against a proposed, god-awful, 18-story DUMBO tower that will block views of the Brooklyn Bridge.

But Amanda and her City Planning Commission voted for the tower anyway on April 21. Oh, but there was a great compromise that made everything better. The tower will now be only 17 stories. Whew! That's a relief. Burden, a past master at unfeeling bullshit, said "We think we have a achieved a balanced resolution to this issue but most importantly respected this historic site and the importance of the Brooklyn Bridge." She then uncrossed her fingers and winked.

It should come as no surprise that Burden has no regard for the Brooklyn Bridge, and does not consider that the structure belongs to the people of New York and that they, and not a few selected rich tenants, have a right to unobstructed views of the majestic span. She's Bloomberg's Gal Friday, and Mike has never shown any respect for anything in this City other than his position in it, and the ideas he wishes to impose upon it.

The tower is the work of the Walentases of Two Trees, who are now permanently on my shit list. They could donate their wealth to charity, adopt 49 orphans, pat every dog in town and spend the rest of their lives eradicating poverty in the Indian subcontinent, and—if they continued to let this tower go forward—I would still consider then utterly worthless sub-humans who deserve every evil mentioned in the Old Testament to be visited on their heads. They are enemies of the people, pure and simple.

Think I'm overreacting? Actually, I'm restraining myself.

The project will still have to go before the City Council for review next month. Anyone recall that body doing anything for the good of the people and the City in recent memory?

What Your Mayor Is Up To, Part IV

Cutting ribbons at new Home Depots (WTF!), and refusing to put on safety goggles. [Gothamist]

Buying out the Democratic Party on NYC with bribes of future jobs and bonuses. [NY Observer via Queens Crap]

Helping push the number of homeless people to record levels. [NY Times]

Already spending $7.5 million on his campaign to be New York's King. And it's only April. [City Room]

Not standing up to block the tower that will defile the view of the Brooklyn Bridge, because there's no such thing as bad development. [NY1]

Columbia and the Great Glass Elevator

Work has begun anew on the Belltower of Columbia Street, the bizarrely towered new apartment complex on Columbia Street near Summit. Either the developers got the go-ahead from the DOB, or it's just more the illegal work that's been common at the address in the past.

But Lost City learned a few things by talking to some of the workers. For one, that's not a belltower there at the top. Well, OK, we knew that already. But we still couldn't figure out what it actually was—until now. Friends, it's an elevator shaft. Apparently, this four-story building is to be filled by lazy people, because they need an elevator to get where they're going.

And it won't be just any elevator. It will be a Willie Wonka-ish glass elevator, so that when they get to that tippy-top, the tenants are going to enjoy some super-nice views. It will also be nice going up, because the inside of the elevator shaft will be lined by reclaimed old brick—you know, the kind of quality brick they used to use all the time before they started putting up pieces of crapitecture like this.

So, to review: in order for the residents of this new building to be afforded great views of the neighborhood, the rest of the neighborhood must be afflicted with a lousy view. Of that building. Hm. Seems fair.

Target Targets Hicks Street With Painted Ad

Target is getting all old-timey out on Hick Street near the BQE. A local artist, for the last couple days, has been constructed a hand-painted sign for the corporate giant. The billboard will stand about eight feet tall, and cover a good section of a brick wall on Hicks near the corner of Union Street. It's the same wall shared, on the inside, by the Coffee Den, a local indy java joint. (The owner of the building has been after some advertising for some time now.)

Inside the Coffee Den, people are already bitching at the ad. "It's great a local artist gets work, but Target?" said one. That's generally how I feel. I pass by that wall pretty often, and I don't relish having to look upon some vague representation of the kind of lifestyle I might lead if I only shopped at huge, enervating, big-box stores more often.

The Lenox Hill Eyesore

What goes on with the prominent, and prominently ugly, building at the corner of 76th and Lexington? Number 1080 Lexington, it has been owned by Lenox Hill Hospital since 1937, but that august landlord does not appear to be doing anything with it, and hasn't for some time. It was the hospital's Health Education Center in the 1970s and 1980s. But now it's ground-floor storefront windows are covered over with white paper and a few posters. Nothing seems to be happening in the second floor space, which is reached by an oddly placed, stoop-like staircase on the 76th Street side, either.

Moreover, this set of cream-colored townhouses—which, by the looks of them, date from the 19th century—appear to have been worked over daily with an ugly stick by Lenox Hill. The state of the facade is simply ruinous. Not just stained and cracked, as many old facades become over the years if not maintained, but battered and chipped. The lintels around the windows are in horrendous condition. It's as if Lenox Hill has a whack at tearing the thing down every now and then, but then loses interest.

The whole structure is a terrible eyesore, one everyone has to endure given the highly visible location of the buildings. What is it with hospitals and real estate? I've seen it again and again. Hospitals buy up nice old buildings surrounding their main headquarters, for office space or whatever, and then let them go to pot until they're in such bad shape they must be shut up.

That Latest Katz's Rumor: Not True

I was handing in my ticket at Katz's Delicatessen last night when the woman in front of me nervously asked the cashier if it were true that the immortal deli was closing. "That's a rumor," growled the lady at the counter.

Lord knows prediction of Katz's death come along about as often as Angelina Jolie acquires another child, but I hadn't heard this one. So I asked about it. "Someone's always starting a rumor," the cashier said. "You think if they were going to sell, they'd sell now?! The time was last year." The intimation was that the tanked economy is keeping Katz's safe for the time being. I expressed my wish that any such sale wouldn't happen for a long while. "Or ever," returned the cashier.

Old Homestead Finds the Beef

The folks over at the Old Homestead steakhouse recently invited me to take a tour of the 141-year-old Meatpacking Distict chowhouse. I hadn't seen it since the recent renovation, so I happily took them up on the offer.

I had been sad to see the old place cut in half last fall when the owners gave up the lease on the southern half of the restaurant, after their landlords raised the rent. They now operate out of a comparatively narrow space, three levels high. But they own the building, so they won't have to worry about the whims of landlords anymore. And it's the building that has the famous Old Homestead vertical neon sign on it, as well as large cow figure, beloved symbols of New York-iana.


If you didn't pass that sign and that cow, you might not know you're in a restaurant that began serving right after the Civil War. Inside, architect and designer Glen Coben has made everything smooth and sleek. The floor is original, I was told, and the tin ceilings. But otherwise, everything's pretty new. It's that prototypical steakhouse look: dark wood, leather, white tablecloths, mirrors, dim lighting. The template hasn't change much since the days of Diamond Jim Brady. Very nice in its way. It's all quite handsome and understated, if a tad anonymous. I wouldn't mind a bit more fusty old bric-a-brac and memorabilia on the wall. If you're 140 years old, why not show it off?


My favorite part of the renovation by far is a private room on the second floor that used to be a closet. When they cleared out the space, I was told, workers uncovered an old painted sign that had long ago adorned the northern wall of the building just to the south (the same building that the Old Homestead used to lease). It reads in big, bold letters, "Prime Beef." It's beautiful and in fine condition, considering its age. And it gives the room a particular character, as does the fine view out the window—a close up of the bottom half of the neon sign. I could only imagine how the sign would illuminate the room at night with a cool noir air.


The owners say they had no idea that sign was there all these years. It presented a conundrum, though. It was obviously an outdoor sign. But the only way it could have been seen is if the building that houses the Old Homestead didn't exist. When I queried the Old Homestead people, however, they said the building they occupied was older than the building to the south. Mysterious. And impossible.


I told them of my confusion and asked if they were sure of their dates. Sure enough, they came back with reverse information. The building to the south was indeed older than the Old Homestead building. Thus, the northern brick wall of the southern building was once visible to to all who wished to gaze at the Prime Beef advertisement.

Given the age of the Old Homestead, one would then assume that the painted sign is at least 150 years old. Amazing. What was paint made of in the old days? Based on the innumerable old painted signs that are uncovered every year in New York, 19th century paint seems to last forever.

Wall Coming Down in Cobble Hill

It looks like something's finally happening with 364 Henry Street, the long-troubled brownstone at the northwest, Cobble Hill corner of Henry and Congress street. There's a bulldozer parked outside the cracked and crumpling building, and construction workers hacking away at the inside.

Asked whether the dilapidated structure will be demolished or fixed, they said "fixed." But they also said the long southern wall (pictured below) will have to come down in order to do so. It's hard for me to believe that any part of this old building is salvageable, it's been standing derelict for so long. The place has had 12 DOB complaints against it just since the beginning of 2009. The lady who lives next door was surveying the activity and expressed the belief that the whole thing should come down. She also said the owner, one John Q. Quadrozzi, Jr., according to DOB records, also owns the almost-equally derelict brownstone on the other side of her building (which is in fine condition.)

A Good Sign: Dapper Dan

Curbed ran this picture of a piece of vintage signage recently revealed on 14th Street. Dapper Dan, featuring Imperial Clothes. Hey, I'd shop there!

Spring Among the Graves

From Lost City Flickr Pool member lostinbrooklyn. Taken in Green-wood Cemetery.

Lost City's Guide to Red Hook

The once-bustling waterfront community of Red Hook has lost a great deal of its original life. Nearly all, really. Van Brunt, Conover, and Richards Streets are lined with the ghosts of formally vital storefronts. If you want to know what life was like in the shipping days, when work was plentiful for Irish, Italian and Swedish laborers, and street life teemed with pushcarts and stickball, you'll have to talk to the old-timers still hanging on, because there's not much evidence of it on the streets themselves. Unlike other nearby neighborhoods, the recent gentrification has not been hung on a few enduring businesses and institutions, but built from the ground up. If I wished to tell you what used to be in Red Hook, this guide could go on and on. As it is, the tracing of Red Hook's living history is a much short affair.

DEFONTE'S: This sandwich outpost at Columbia and Luquer Streets, near the north end of Red Hook, is about as old as surviving businesses get in Red Hook, to my reckoning. Somehow, the 1922 eatery has survived in the middle of absolutely nowhere for decades. The mint-green building with all the upper windows boarded over is pure Hopper, sitting lonely on its blighted corner. It's family-owned, founded by a immigrant from Mori di Bari (the hometown of so many of the local Italian families). The sandwiches are big, good and cheap. They recently opened a Manhattan branch, so they must be doing well.

ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH OF THE VISITATION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY: Walk south down Columbia and then Dwight Street to Verona. Turn right along the north side of COFFEY PARK. The dark forboding Roman Catholic Church of the Visitation dominates this central green of Red Hook. The church was established in 1954. This building is the second to stand on the site. A former structure, erected in 1878, was destroyed by fire on July 12, 1896. The present Gothic affair was built in 1896.

THE "R" SIGN: Look above at the abandoned billboard atop the building at Richards and Venona. This used to belong to paper goods manufacturer named E.J. Trum. When John Turano & Sons Furniture took over the address in 1978, they tried to tear down the Trum letters. All but the stubborn "R," and a period, were removed. There they remain. Let's just say it stands for Red Hook.


RED HOOK POOL: Walk back to Dwight, turn right, walk down to Lorraine. Turn left and walk to Clinton. Turn right to Bay Street. The Red Hook Pool, officially know as the Sol Goldman Recreation Center and Pool, is a gem of a relic from the WPA area, a gloriously huge pool and in great condition. It's an attraction of constant popularity in the summer, fostering a wonderfully democratic picture of community summertime fun.

RED HOOK BALLFIELD VENDORS: Kitty-corner from the pool, in Red Hook Park, during the summer months, are a gathering of Latin food purveyors collectively known as the Red Hook Ballfield Vendors. From these carts, offering the best local versions of delicacies from El Salvador, Mexico, Honduras, Guatemala, Ecuador and the Dominican Republic, you will receive some of the best street food in all of New York. The vendors have been working their magic for 20 years or so, and though they are singularly unappreciated by the City or the Parks Department, they are beloved of New Yorkers.


ERIE BASIN PARK: Walk west on Bay to Otsego. As you go, look south to the rusted-out behemoth of the PORT OF NEW YORK GRAIN ELEVATOR TERMINAL, standing starkly again the horizon like some accursed post-industrial City of Oz. Turn left on Otsego to Beard Street. I haven't brought you here to admire the new IKEA, but Erie Basin Park, which IKEA built as a sort of olive branch to the community for tearing down the historic Todd Shipyards. They did a fairly excellent job, and the expansive collection of piers, greenery, walkways, bike paths and maritime paraphernalia nicely captures the spirit and air of old Red Hook.

BEARD STREET: As you walk west on Beard toward Van Brunt, take note of he Belgian Blocks on the road. These can be found all over Red Hook, as well as remnants of old trolley tracks.

FAIRWAY: Again, I didn't bring you hear to appreciate the produce, but to take a look at the pre-Civil War coffee warehouse Fairway renovated as its Brooklyn home. It's an undeniably handsome object. Inside, head to the back patio. There, you can enjoy unadulterated views of Staten Island, the Statue of Liberty and the water traffic in New York Harbor. To the left are three old TROLLEY CARS, the sad testimony of Brooklynite Bob Diamond's doomed effort to bring trolley service back to Red Hook.

BEARD STREET WAREHOUSES: Across Van Brunt from Fairway, and continues south along Erie Basin are the long, red-brick Beard Street Warehouse, simply one of the most beautiful and beautifully situated industrial structures in America. Catch the Civil-War-era buildings at sunset for an unmatchable sight.

WEIRD MARITIME BUILDING: Walk west on Reed Street, just in front of Fairway, to No. 20, a curious two-story black building that looks like it's auditioning for the part of Old Maritime Building, covered as it is with plastic fish, life preservers, ship wheels and flags. It's actually just a building some guy uses to work on his old cars and have a few beers with his buds. Adds local character, though.

SUNNY'S BAR: Walk to Conover and turn right. Sunny's Bar is one of the few holdouts from the old days. In the Balzano family since the 1930s, it is now opened only occasionally, whenever Sunny feels like it. The well-preserved interior is well worth a looksee.

Previous Lost City Neighborhood Guides

Lucky Duck

Not all my thoughts are of the gloom and doom variety. Every now and then—fairly often, actually—I stop and consider how lucky I am to be living where I do.

Today was such a day. Beautiful weather, so I took to my battered old black bike to run some errands. I rode down Hicks, turned right at the bike lane on Kane and then left on Court, to Jim & Andy's green grocer. There are now quite a few bike lanes in South Brooklyn. Clinton, Bergen, Kane, Congress, 3rd Street, Union, Fourth Avenue. More are to come. My son has asked for pie tonight. Rhubarb is in season, so I grabbed a few stalks and a carton of strawberries, as well as some pears that looked good. My purchases were bagged and paid for, without the benefit of an actual cash register.

I went outside to my bike and noticed a good-sized crowd in Coffee Peddler, the new coffee place that purveys Stumptown Coffee. I went in, had an exchange with a tattooed barista who thought she knew me from Gimme! coffee in Williamsburg (she didn't) and another exchange with a tattooed cashier who was curious what I had in the bag. (The idea of pie-making made him smile.)

I ordered an espresso and sat down to drink it, and thought, this coffee was roasted in Red Hook. It's local coffee. If I walked further down Court to Court Street Pastry, I could buy some cookies made on the premises. At Mazzola Bakery, I could get locally produced bread. Esposito Pork Store could give me some house-manufactured sausage, and Mazzola Fine Foods makes its own Mozzerella. At Prime Meats, I could have an Old Fashioned with pear bitters made from a pear tree in the bar's back yard, or a Manhattan made with homemade Buddha's Hand bitters. Soon, the place will be curing it's own meats and making its own sausages.

At any number of bars in the area, I could get a Six Point brew made a stone's throw away in Red Hook, which will soon be producing its own wine label, via Angel's Share (just across the street from Six Point). On Clinton, at One For the Pot, I could acquire some locally contrived honey. Soon, the Carroll Gardens and Park Slope and Borough Hall farmer's markets would be back in full swing.

As I traced all these criss-crossing connections across South Brooklyn in my mind, I felt very grateful to be living in such creative, industrious, thoughtful, quasi-self-sustaining urban micro-universe. A neighborhood's a neighborhood here, not some corporate-sponsored simulacrum of community

34th and Lex, Then and Now

Paul Sahner, and the blog NYC Grid, has an obsession with the past that I can only kinda, sorta, maybe, partially relate to. He recently tookcame a handful of slides taken by his grandfather in New York City in 1961, and tracked down each photo location and took a contemporary shot, to see how much things have changed in the City.

It's worth looking at the entire collection, but my favorite shot it above on the corner of 34th and Lex, looking west, as compared with the contemporary shot below. The Empire State still anchors the scene, of course, and that shorter, flat-topped building in front of it (the former Vanderbilt Hotel, built in 1913, I believe) is still there. The building in the right foreground has been replaced with something far uglier, the the bishop's crook lamppost is gone. I wonder what that sort of campanile is, just in front of the Vanderbilt. Looks like an Armory of sorts.

Love the Rexall drug store.

What Your Mayor Is Up To, Part III

Betting impatient with disabled people. [City Room]

Maintaining that the press don't need to have a presence at police headquarters, because, you know, nothing newsworthy ever happens there, and it's not like the police will become corrupt or anything if the press aren't watching them. [NY Post]

Showing unstinting support for the financial titans who have brought the City, nation and world low. [NY Times]

Opposing money from the EPA that would clean up the Gowanus Canal, because such a project would slow development in the area. [NYT via Queens Crap]

Hogging all the party lines at the ballot box, even though he's supposedly independent and above politics. [NY Observer]

Now, just imagine you're a disabled, poor Democrat reporter who wants the Gowanus cleaned up—oooh, how Bloomberg would hate you.

Small Buildings, Big Loss

I was recently led by the ever useful AIA Guide to New York City to a quiet block of E. 82nd Street between First and Second. I wanted to see Nos. 306 and 306A, a teeny tiny brick row house and an even smaller row house situated just behind it, down an alley. "Early residents at a smaller scale," the guide mused. The accompanying picture (below) made the buildings look positively quaint.

When I got there, though, both structures, built in 1855, were gone, leveled. They're weren't landmarked or protected in any way. In their place is this handiwork of hideousness, pictured above. It's still under construction. No chance of it getting into future editions of the AIA.

A Sign or Two

A helpful reader recently alerted me to a large painted sign that, with the destruction of a building, was revealed at the southeast corner of 76th and Broadway. I hurried up there with my camera to see what I could see. The tipster, as it turns out, was right and wasn't right. The leveling of the building had indeed given all traipsing up and down upper Broadway a good gander at a long-ago sign for Livingston Rad Automobile Radiators.

However, that sign hadn't been completely hidden from the public all this time. If you strolled down 75th Street, you could get a peek at it, just above an old former carriage house, along with its brother in hand-painted signage: an ad for the something-or-other Square Motors Corp. Nice pair.

Where to Eat in New York, Circa 1934

"Suggestions About Restaurants In New York City"

Here is a list of New York restaurant suggestions from a guide published in 1934. I have published like this before, but I just love this stuff, so here's another one. Also, this is a much earlier line-up than I've posted before:

Restaurants Specializing in American Foods

ALEXANDRA, 8 E. 49th St., serves a champagne cocktail with dinner; price $1.10 to $1.50.

BARBOUR RESTAURANT, 1 W. 52d St. Southern home cooking. Dinner 75 cents to $1.25.

BILLY THE OYSTERMAN, 7 E. 20th St. and 10 W. 47th St. internationally famous for sea food, steaks, chops.

CAVANAGH'S, 258 W. 23d St., famous for over 50 years for its Irish stew, steaks, chops. Don't miss it; it's real `old New York'! Dinner from $1.75.

FRAUNCES' TAVERN, 101 Broad St., where Washington took leave of his officers, in December, 1783.

JACK DEMPSEY'S, Eighth Ave. at 50th St., opposite Madison Square Garden. Superlative foods, simple or fancy; but you can get fancy foods many places, and only in a few can you get simple foods such as are served here. Roast beef such as one seldom meets; steaks, chops, fish, etc.

JACK LYON'S CHOP HOUSE, 102 W. 50th St., just west of Sixth Ave., is in the tradition made famous by old New York restaurants like Jack's and Shanley's. A la carte only. Excellent bar.

LOBSTER, fish and chop house, 145 W. 45th St. `Shore dinner,' every day, $1.50. Other dinners $1.10 to $1.50.

LONGCHAMPS RESTAURANTS are numerous, excellent, very many of the favorites, not only with visitors but with New York residents, are in hotels. Among these are:

THE TRIANON ROOM of the Hotel Ambassador (Park Ave. at 51st St.) Lunch from $1.50, dinner about $3.

BOWMAN ROOM at the Biltmore, Madison at 43d St. Similar prices.

THE GLASS HAT at the Belmont Plaza, Lexington at 49th St. Entertainment, dancing. Dinner from $1.25.

PALM ROOM at the Commodore, Lexington at 42d St. Dinner from $2.

CASINO-ON-THE-PARK, Essex House, 160 Central Park South. Dinner from $1.75. Also the Omar Room.

HAMPSHIRE HOUSE, 50 Central Park South. Distinguished food and service. Dinner from $2.50.

HAWAIIAN ROOM, Lexington Hotel, Lexington Ave. at 48th St. Dinner from $1.75.

TERRACE ROOM, Hotel New Yorker, Eighth Ave. at 34th St. Floor show. Dinner from $2.

COCOANUT GROVE, Park Central Hotel, Seventh Ave. at 55th St. Dinner from $1.25.

QUEEN ELIZABETH ROOM, Park Lane Hotel, 299 Park Ave. Dinner from $2.50.

MANHATTAN ROOM, Hotel Pennsylvania, Seventh Ave. at 33d St. Dinner from $2.

PERSIAN ROOM at the Plaza, Fifth Ave. at 59th St. Very smart. Dinner from $3.50 to $4. Famous music.

THE RITZ, always, of course! Madison at 46th St. Dancing in the Crystal Gardens.

THE TAPESTRY ROOM at the Ritz Tower, Park Ave. at 57th St., is a small, intimate, charming place to lunch or dine. Dinner $2.50 to $3.

ROOSEVELT GRILL, Madison at 45th St. Dinner from $2.50. Dancing.

RESTAURANT DE LA PAIX, Hotel St. Moritz, 50 Central Park South. Dinner $2.

IRIDIUM ROOM and MAISONETTE RUSSE, Hotel St. Regis, Fifth Ave. at 55th St. High-class entertainment. Dinner $3.50 to $4.

SCHRAFFT'S have 38 restaurants in the metropolitan area. Fine corned beef hash, chicken pie, sandwiches, salads, cakes, etc. Moderate prices.

SUSAN PALMER, 4 W. 49th St. Good `home-y' cooking — very popular — Dinner $1 to $1.50. Frequented by theatre and radio folk.

MANNY WOLF, Third Ave. at 49th St. is an old-fashioned New York restaurant with a devoted clientele. It used to be far downtown. Excellent food and drink, friendly service.

MARY ELIZABETH'S, LTD., for many years at the corner of 36th St. and Fifth Ave., is now at 6 E. 37th St. Delicious food such as is served in the best American homes.

YE OLDE CHOP HOUSE, 118 Cedar St. (2d block north of Wall St.), almost exactly as it was in 1800. Game, terrapin, turtle soup, steaks and chops grilled on open charcoal fire. A. la carte only.

THE BRASS RAIL, 745 Seventh Ave. (south of 50th St.), is big, bustling, and caters to a typical Broadway crowd; but the food is excellent and not expensive. Fine roast beef, noted Welsh rarebit. Convenient to Radio City and to many theatres.

BILLY'S, 1020 First Ave., serves lamb chops, hamburgers, and a few other things, in a gas-lit place reminiscent of other days.

SWEET'S, 2 Fulton St. (Fulton Fish Market), on the 2d floor of the oldest hotel in New York. Old-times-y. Excellent fish.

OYSTER BAY RESTAURANT, 674 Eighth Ave. Oldest sea-food and chop house in New York.

French Restaurants

These are legion in New York; among the best are:

MONTE CARLO, 49 E. 54th St. Dinner, supper, dancing, entertainment. Superb French food, ultra-smart clientele (evening dress imperative), very expensive, but you get your money's worth. Gene Cavallero, formerly of the Colony, is there, associated with Felix Ferry, formerly of Monte Carlo, Paris, London.

EL MOROCCO, 154 E. 54th St., also has dinner, supper, dancing, is `dressy,' 'smart,' has fine food.

ROBERT, 33 W. 55th St. Try the terrapin.

CHAMBORD, Third Ave. between 49th and 50th Sts., east side of street. Delicious food, notable wines, clientele of persons who `really know.' Glass partition between restaurant and kitchen, so you can watch preparation of food. Dinner $2 to $3.50.

COLONY RESTAURANT, 667 Madison Ave. Smart, expensive, excellent.

VOISIN, 375 Park Ave. (in basement); superlative French food, fine service, smart clientele. Try duck with orange.

CAFE LOUIS XIV, 15 W. 49th St. (Rockefeller Center). Very, very good, and not expensive. Entertainment; charming `setting.'

CAFE SAINT DENIS, 11 E. 53d St. Onion soup, crepes Suzette, etc. Dinner from $1.25.

CHARLES A LA POMME SOUFFLE, 157 E. 55th St. Superb wines, excellent food. Fairly expensive.

CRILLON, 277 Park Ave. French, and also Viennese. Fine cooking, choice wines. Dinners from $2.

HENRI, 40 W. 46th St. Delicious food. Dinner from $1.50 to $2.25.

GASTON A LA BONNE SOUPE, 44 W. 55th St. Good. Dinner $1.

HOTEL LAFAYETTE, 9th St. and University Place. Celebrated these many years for delicious French food. Dinner $2 to $2.25.

LARUE, 45 E. 58th St. Finest French food, all a la carte. Dancing, tip-top entertainment.

LA SALLE Du Bois, 30 E. 60th St. Excellent dinner from $1.50.

LE MoNT D'OR, 255 E. 48th St., serves what some consider the best $1 table d'hôte dinner among French restaurants in New York.

MAISON DE WINTER, 36 W. 48th St. Excellent food, genial atmosphere, luncheon from 65 cents, dinner from 85 cents.

JANET OF FRANCE, 237 West 52d St., is famous for onion soup. Interesting clientele. Dinner $1 to $1.50.

BONAT, 330 W. 31st St. serves a good bourgeois French dinner, with lots of local color, for 75 cents.

PASSY, 28 E. 63d St. Quiet, luxurious, expensive, elegant. CANARI D'OR, 132 E. 61st St. Small, distinguished, every-thing cooked to order. Dinner from $1.75 up.

CAFE CONTINENTAL, 10 E. 52d St. Dinner (with soft music) $2.50.

COQ ROUGE, 65 E. 56th St. Orchestra, entertainment; dinner from $2.50.

PENTHOUSE CLUB, 30 Central Park South, sky-high with splendid view north over Central Park. Dancing; entertainment. Dinner from $2.

MON PARIS, 142 E. 53d St. Dancing, entertainment. Dinner from $2.50.

THEODORE'S, 4 E. 56th St. Smart; good food. Dinner from $1.75. '

MARGUERY, 270 Park Ave. Excellent food, fine clientele. Dinner $2.75.

Italian Restaurants

MONETA, 32 Mulberry St. Very expensive, very, very good. ARMANDO's, 54 E. 55th St. Orchestra. Dinner from $2. Fine for luncheon.

MARIO's, 58 E. 53d St. Dinner from $1.50. Excellent. BARBETTA's, 321 W: 46th St. A la carte only: good cellar. GUFFANTI, 274 Seventh Ave. Excellent Italian table d'hôte, in a place known to thousands, during nearly 50 years. MOTHER BERTOLOTTI'S, 147 W. 4th St. In `the Village.'

Dinner $1 to $1.50.

PETER'S BACK YARD, 64 W. 10th St. In `the Village,' and long famous. Dinner $1 to $1.75.

ZUCCA'S ITALIAN GARDENS, 118 W. 49th St. Excellent table d'hôte dinner $1.50 to $2.50.

LUIGINO, 115 W. 48th St. Good Italian food and wine, interesting Italian clientele.

CARUSO RESTAURANTS, numerous in New York, serve good Italian meals at moderate prices. There's one at 17 E. 59th St. One at 130 W. 42d St. Another at 125 W. 45th St. One at 40 W. 33d St. One at 228 W. 34th St. And so on.

FIRENZE, 6 W. 46th St. 'Setting' is an Italian street scene — in papier mache! Dinner $1 to $1.50.

German Restaurants

LUCHOW, 10 E. 14th St., is one of the best-known, long-established restaurants in New York. Food that's hard to beat. Good old German atmosphere. Dinner $1.50.

GERMAN-AMERICAN RATHSKELLER, 190 Third Ave. (at 17th St.). Famous and frequented by famous people for more than 50 years. O. Henry loved it. Music and song. Imported beer. Good food. Moderate prices.

HANS JAEGER'S, Lexington Ave. at 85th St. Excellent beer, wine, food, and music. Dinner $1 to $1.50.

Hungarian Restaurants

ZIMMERMAN'S BUDAPEST, 117 W. 48th St. Dinner from $1. Little HUNGARY, 257 E. Houston St.

TOKAY, 806 Seventh Ave. Gypsy Orchestra. Dinner from $1.

Japanese

MIYAKO, 340 W. 58th St. Famous for its sukiyaki. Dinner $1 to $1.75.

Russian N

CASINO RUSSE, 157 W. 56th St. The Russia of other days.

English

KEEN'S CHOP HOUSE, 72 W. 36th St. One of New York's landmarks, visited by celebrities from every corner of the globe. There they smoke their 'churchwarden' pipes, which are kept as long as they live and broken when they die. Many old play-bills, including the one Lincoln was holding when he was assassinated. Real 'Old English' atmosphere. Good food and drink. Dinner $1.25 to $2.50.

Austrian

HAPSBURG HOUSE, 313 E. 55th St. A little old New York house 'done over' in the manner of old Vienna as Schubert

knew it. At the door to greet you, a dear little old man the image of Emperor Franz Joseph. Austrian food. Dinner $2. TESSIE's OLD VIENNA, 133 E. 54th. Dinner from $1.35.

Swedish

STOCKHOLM, 27 W. 51st St., in a famous mansion of the `gay nineties.' Perfect Swedish food and drink. Dinner $1.50. GRIPSHOLM, 324 E. 57th St. Dinner $1.50.

QUEEN MARY, 40 E. 58th St. Especially on Sunday night. Popular with the younger crowd. Dinner $1.25 to $2. SWEDISH RESTAURANT, 22 W. 56th St. Dinner $1 to $1.25.

Now, a number of places — widely different — that are hard to classify.

THE RAINBOW ROOM and the RAINBOW GRILL, high up (65th floor) near the top of the R.C.A. building in Rockefeller Center, and as near the top of nearly every visitor's list of places he must see if possible. Distinguished entertainment, delicious food. Dinner in the Rainbow Room $3.50. Superb views. Grill is informal. Dinner $2.

THE STORK CLUB, 3 E. 53d St., is another place most visitors want to be able to tell about when they get back home. Fashionable, gay. Dinner from $2.50; lunch from $1.50.

TWENTY-ONE WEST 52D ST. has been much publicized. You may want to go there in search of what the chatter-boys call `cafe society.'

ALGONQUIN HOTEL, 59 W. 44th St. Much written about; frequented by well-known writers, actors.

CHILD'S RESTAURANTS are nearly everywhere in New York. Many visitors want to try at least one. Their `Spanish Garden' at 12 E. 59th St., with gay music for dancing, may be the one you'll find most intriguing.

INTERNATIONAL CASINO, Broadway at 44th St. has been called `a Hollywood dream in theatre restaurants.' Elaborate musical revue at 7.30 and 11.30 P.M. Minimum charge $2.50 — Saturdays $3.50.

CHEZ FIREHOUSE, 141 E. 55th St. been a great success with those who delight in the novel. Best time is the midnight floor show.

THE VILLAGE BARN, 52 W. 8th St., offers square dances, country games, and other old-fashioned fun, along with good old-fashioned food — like fried chicken. Sometimes gets a bit rowdy.

VITAL INTERESTS, 56 E. 56th St., is for people who watch their diet, like fruit salads, vegetable plate, etc. But other things are served also. Inexpensive. No liquor.

FIRESIDE INN, 411 W. 24th St. Cape Cod come to town. Provincetown proprietors. Dinner from 75 cents.

CASA MARANA, Seventh Ave. at 50th St. Billy Rose's theatre restaurant. Shows at 8 and 11.45. Dinner from $2.

EL CHICO, 80 Grove St., in `the Village.' Authentically Spanish. Three shows nightly. Dinner from $1.50.

EL Rio, 128 E. 58th St. Brazilian atmosphere. Revues at 9.30, 12.30, 2.30. Dinner from $2.25.

HORN AND HARDART'S AUTOMAT RESTAURANTS, of which there are 45 in Greater New York, feed 300,000 New Yorkers daily

Which ones are still around? Not many. "21," Keen's, and, as buildings, Fraunces Tavern and the Algonquin.

Don't Let's Change the Name of Tavern on the Green

It's cheesy. It's touristy. We only go there when our mothers make us. But, goddammit, it's a landmark, a one of kind thing only found in one location in one city: New York. So, please, let's not fuck around with Tavern on the Green.

The money-making Central Park restaurant has been much in the news lately, if you haven't noticed, since everyone and their brother is setting themselves up to big on its lease. The LeRoy family has operated it for 25 years, but their license expires at the end of this year, and the City (which owns the property) is fishing around for more money that the 3.5% of their gross receipts it's been getting from the Leroys. So, everyone's jumped into the fray, including all the muy-importante, big-deal restaurateurs who alway jump into the fray when something big comes along.

But City Room dropped the bomb this week that if the LeRoys exit the game, they're going to take their ball with them. They will tip down all the twinkly decor, which they own, AND the name of the place. They apparently own the rights to the name "Tavern on the Green." So basically what the City is offering the new bidders is a bare, stripped, old wooden hull of a building that has no name. Huh.

Stop me if I'm wrong, but the reason tourists love the joint—and the reason it rakes in millions every year and is the location of so many private parties—is because it looks like a fantasy landscape, with mirrors and lights and chandeliers everywhere. Right? And the reason tourists know to go to it is due to its world-famous name: Tavern on the Green.

If it doesn't look like a Christmas tree and isn't called Tavern on the Green, will it make nearly as much money for a restaurateur?

Now, why is the City expected to get more money, now?

Recipes of the Lost City: Braised Striped Bass Pavillon

Le Pavillon was the first restaurant to bring haute French cuisine to Manhattan after World War II, and sparked a culinary revolution in the city that really hasn't ceased since (though heavy French food is no longer its focus). It was on 55th opposite the St. Regis. The place was overseen by the autocratic Henri Soule, and patronized by everyone from Presidents to high society to Hollywood royalty. Soule (that's him above, at the right), a Frenchman who settled in New York just before the war, was the most famous restaurant in the metropolis, and he knew it, treating almost everyone, from chef to waiter to guest, with barely disguised disdain.

Jacques Pepin was hired there in 1959 (and eventually led a labor revolt that temporarily led to the closing of the restaurant), and he included a Le Pavillon recipe in his memoir "The Apprentice." Here it is. It may seem a bit daunting at first glance, but the ingredients are all easily acquired, and the instructions, while detailed, are quite simple. I'm betting this was one of the most straightforward things served at La Pavillon.

Braised Striped Bass Pavillon

1 striped bass, gutted, with head on (about three pounds)
2 cups thinly sliced mushrooms
1/4 cup chopped shallots
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper, plus more to taste
1 tablespoon good olive oil
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
2 bay leaves
1 cup dry, fruity white wine (Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc)
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon minced fresh chives

Preheat the over to 400 degrees. Place the fish in a gratin dish or stainless steel baking dish that is narrow enough to prevent the garnishes and the wine from spreading out too much. Sprinkle with the mushrooms, shallots, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper, olive oil, thyme, bay leaves, and wine. Cover tightly with piece of aluminum foil so the fish will cook in its own steam.

Bake for 35 to 45 minutes, or until the fish is cooked through. Check by inserting the point of a small knife into the flesh. It should be tender, and the flesh should separate from the central bone when pierced with the knife. Reduce the hear to 150 degrees. Using a large spatula, transfer the whole fish to an overproof serving platter, and set aside in the warm oven while you complete the recipe.

Pour the fish's cooking juices and vegetable solids into a small saucepan, and discard the bay leaves. You should have 3/4 to 1 cup of liquid; cook down the liquid or add water to adjust the yield to this amount. Bring to a boil on top of the stove, and add the butter spoonful by spoonful, incorporating each piece into the mixture with a whisk before you add another. Remove the saucepan from the heat, and add the lemon juice, chives, and additional salt and pepper to taste.

At serving time, pull or scrape off the skin on top of the fish with a small paring knife. Coat the fish with the sauce, and sprinkle the chives on top.

Previous Recipes of the Lost City

A Rare Occurance

Not in general. Just for me. 15 years living in the South Brooklyn area and today was the first time I was present when one of the bridges over the Gowanus Canal was going up to let a vessel pass through. It was the 3rd Street Bridge. I got to see official bridge personnel in action!

Anselmo Brings $6 Pizza to Red Hook

Anselmo's, the new brick-oven pizza joint on Van Brunt in Red Hook, is up and running and already attracted a big lunch crowd. A couple dozen of the nabe's hard-working laborers were already feasting on a bevy of 10" pizzas by noon today.

The place is nicely unassuming, decor-wise. Brick walls, some pressed tin backsplashes on the bar, simple tables and the brick oven tucked back in the right hand corner as you walk in. In a sunken back room, visible through a window, pizza dough is constantly being prepared. Anselmo himself was doing some homemade p.r., greeting every customer personally.

I had the special: goat cheese, red peppers and fresh basil. The 10" is a true individual-sized pie; four filling slices. Very fresh tasting, with the pepper taste dominating, though the goat cheese was possibly a tad too gooey. But it's hard to complain. The 10" pizzas are a mere $6! If you move up to 14", you pay $14. It's these prices—and its location in the heart of decent-pizza-bereft Red Hook—that will likely give Anselmo's an edge in a world where nearby Lucali's pizza is probably better, but goes for $24 a pie. (Makes you wonder: how does Anselmo's manage to get around the supposedly exorbitant prices of flour and cheese, when other pizzerias continue to charge the higher prices they installed last year?)

With Anselmo's, Lucali's, South Brooklyn Pizza, and such standbys at the House of Pizza and Calzone and Sam's, I wonder—could South Brooklyn actually be a better place for pizza that it was even back in the old days, when Italian-Americans were more thick upon the ground?

Stone Numbers

There are some nice carved address numbers above the entry doors on the Baltic Street side of the grand old Home Buildings in Cobble Hill. Unfortunately, quite a few of the stone numbers have been worn or chipped away. Still, those that remain are a treat for the eye.

People Bloomberg Likes

From the NY Times:

Much Vilified, Financial Titans Find a Friend in Bloomberg

By DAVID W. CHEN


Gov. Jon S. Corzine is suing Lehman Brothers, saying the firm shortchanged New Jersey’s pension funds. Most members of New York’s Congressional delegation pushed for a 90 percent tax on American International Group bonuses. Politicians in Albany and beyond have pushed through income tax increases on the wealthy.

But Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg is having none of that.

Declaring that “we love the rich people,” Mr. Bloomberg has opposed capping executive pay, increasing the capital gains tax or raising income taxes on the wealthy. He has gushed about Treasury Secretary Timothy F. Geithner, saying he “walks on water,” and praised Henry M. Paulson Jr.’s Goldman Sachs résumé.

Mr. Bloomberg, a billionaire many times over, has also vouched for vilified Wall Street titans like Richard S. Fuld Jr., the former chief executive of Lehman Brothers.

“There’s Lehman Brothers, who I feel very sorry for,” he said during a news conference. “Dick Fuld, I’ve known for 40 years, who’s a competent guy, and people are criticizing him. They didn’t criticize him when things were going well for an awful lot of years.”

Mr. Bloomberg has emerged as perhaps the foremost defender of the financial industry in the political world, while other elected leaders seize on the populist anger over the economy and executive compensation...

“When the economy is bad, people are angry, and they look to politicians to mirror that anger, and it creates a problem for Bloomberg because he cannot be an ‘I feel your pain’ candidate,” said Kenneth Sherrill, a political science professor at Hunter College. “I think he’s gentler on people in the private sector on whom, in his view, the city is dependent. He just holds his tongue.”...

And, exercising a reflex that he most notably displayed in 2006, when he defended Con Edison’s embattled chief executive, Kevin M. Burke, after a series of blackouts, Mr. Bloomberg has routinely applauded top management. His signature expression of approval is to call an executive a “competent guy.”

When asked in September about the A.I.G. bailout, he mentioned that he had talked to Robert B. Willumstad, the company’s former chief executive. “I feel sorry for him,” Mr. Bloomberg said. “He didn’t have a chance to really make a difference. He’s a very competent guy.”

When asked last month about the fate of General Motors, Mr. Bloomberg hailed the man helping to shape White House policy, Steven Rattner, an investment banker whose firm, the Quadrangle Group, manages Mr. Bloomberg’s wealth. “One of the people is a friend of mine — Steve Rattner — he’s a phenomenally competent guy.”

Mr. Bloomberg has also declined to criticize federal officials who have overseen the markets — not Mr. Paulson, not Mr. Geithner, not Christopher Cox, the much-maligned former chairman of the Securities and Exchange Commission.

“I think Tim Geithner is exactly the guy that I would want there,” he said on “Meet the Press” last month. “He’s smart, he is a workaholic, he’s been there, he’s been part of the financial system for a long time, he understands how things work, how markets work, how people react.”...

“You know, the yelling and screaming about the rich, we want the rich from around this country to move here,” he said during his weekly radio program on March 6. “We love the rich people.”

He was one of the few politicians who questioned making the names of A.I.G. bonus recipients public, arguing that privacy was paramount. He criticized Congress for being rash in drafting the A.I.G. bonus tax bill, and suggested that members were hypocritical for taking money from the financial industry with one hand while slapping it with the other...

No one would ever accuse Mr. Bloomberg, who is drawing a token salary of $1 a year, of pursuing public office for personal gain. But Eduardo Castell, who is managing City Comptroller William C. Thompson Jr.’s mayoral campaign, noted that Mr. Bloomberg had an extra incentive, perhaps, to cheer on the financial services industry, since the fortunes of his own company, Bloomberg L.P., hinge in part on other companies’ staying healthy and subscribing to the firm’s financial data terminals.

Think the mayor supports you? Likes you?

Know what I think of Bloomberg? I think he's a real "competent guy."

Yes, You Can Go Inside the Washington Square Arch

I've known this since I first came to New York and read the story of "Ashcan School" painter John Sloan's "revolution" in 1916, when he and some like-minded artists forced open the door one cold January night, armed with beans, Japanese lanterns and, of course, wine, and climbed to the top of the arch. They read poems, fired cap pistols and declared themselves members of the republic of "New Bohemia."

All in all, one of the more bohemian events in the history of Bohemia.

Some mysterious folks recently repeated Sloan's journey, and sent the photos to Curbed. Would I were with them. Is there anyone out there with a key (or a crobar) who can hook up a poor blogger?

Lost City’s Guide to Yorkville

The key to enjoying Yorkville these days, it seems to me, is to keep to the sidestreets. The main thoroughfares (Third, Second and First Avenues, and 86th, 79th and 72nd Street), once packed with the color of teeming German, Hungarian and Czech populations, have been scrubbed clean of interest and lined with banks and chain stores. The blocks in between are infinitely more appealing and contain, if you squint, choice remnants of Yorkville’s living past.

GLASER'S BAKE SHOP: Let’s start with the good stuff, First Avenue near 87th. German pastries and cakes made from 102 years of experience. Glaser’s is one of the neighborhood’s strongest remaining ties to Yorkville’s Germanic history. Try the apple turnovers, black and white cookies or whoopee pies. And don’t fail to notice John Glaser’s name spelled in tile on the floor.


SCHALLER & WEBER: Walk over to Second Avenue, just south of 86th (which was once called German Broadway). Here is the epicenter of bygone Yorkville, a sausage purveyor supreme—though you can also get almost anything else of German pedigree here as well. Schaller & Weber meats are available in many groceries citywide now, but don’t spare yourself a visit to the actual place. Here since 1937. Family-owned.

HEIDELBERG RESTAURANT: To eat a hot Schaller & Weber bratwurst, walk two doors south to the sole remaining German restaurant in the area, in business since 1936 (one year before Schaller & Weber—whose sausages did they serve then?). Dark timber, frothy mugs of imported ale, waiters in leiderhosen. There used to many like it, places with wonderful names Die Lorelei, Cafe Mozart, Kleine Konditorei, and, my favorite, the Ideal Restaurant.

BRANDY'S SALOON: Walk to 84th Street and head west. Brandy's has lived many lives over its time. It a speakeasy back in the day. It is currently enjoying a considerably less romantic existence as a piano bar.


THE YORKVILLE CLOCK: Keep walking west on 84th and turn north on Third. This sidewalk clock is one of the few left in the city. It dates from 1898 and once stood in front of Adolph Stern’s jewelry store at 1508 Third Avenue. The E. Howard Clock Company built the clock. Stern moved it to 1501 Third Avenue in 1923 to sit in front of his pawn shop (and put three balls, the sign of pawn shops, on top of the clock). It was removed for a time in the 1980s, but howls of protest brought it back, fully restored. It had to be renovated again in 1998. It is landmarked and keeps proper time.



ZION ST. MARK'S CHURCH: Turn around and walk east on 84th. Between Second and First is what was christened in 1888 the Deutsche Evangelische Kirche von Yorkville. A pretty little house of worship with the old name still carved into the façade.

ST. ELIZABETH OF HUNGARY ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH: Go down to 83rd between Second and Third. Another religious relic of Yorkville’s ethnic past. Neo-Gothic with a great vaulted ceiling inside.


OTTOMANELLI BROTHERS: Walk back to Second, down to 82nd and over York Avenue. The Ottomanelli clan split a long time ago. One branch of the family (Onofrio) stayed in the Village, on Bleecker; the other (Joseph) went way the hell up here. It remains one of the oldest butchers in the city, and one of the best as well. Also one of the greatest family names around. It looks fine on a sign.


HUNGARIAN MEAT MARKET: Walk down to 81st and over to First. The remnants of Hungarian Yorkville, which was centered around 79th Street, are even harder to find that those of German Yorkville. The Hungarian Meat Market, a Schaller & Weber of its kind, traces its history back to the 1950s, though it doesn’t look very old. You can get your Tirol salami, Csabai smoked sausage, and Szekely Goulash here, as well as authentic Hungarian paprika.

ORWASHER'S BAKERY: Walk down to 78th between First and Second. At No. 308 used to be this old 1916 bakery, which still lives on, after a fashion, as Over Artisans, an outfit that bought the space from the third generation of Orwashers in 2007.


JAN HUS PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH: Walk down to 74th between First and Second. All the churches around here seem to have been built in the 1880s. This one served the Czech community. A weird story in connection to the church: In 1895, Pastor Vincent Pisek traveled to “Nebraska when a hunter killed a mother wolf and presented the new-born cub to Pisek who took it back to Jan Hus Church and raised it on a bottle. The wolf wandered freely around the church and was especially protective of children, who also appear to have had free reign of the place. All day in the pastor's study the wolf would sit at Pisek's feet. One day the wolf was missing and they searched everywhere until they found it curled up sound asleep inside the pulpit. Neighbors complained that the church was terrorizing the block with a wolf howling from the attic.” Jan Hus, a Czech Catholic priest, was burned at the stake in 1415 for his heretical views on the Church.


ST. JOHN THE MARTYR CATHOLIC CHURCH: Walk down to 72nd, near Second. This vest-pocket church used to be the Knox Presbyterian Church, a Bohemian congregation founded in 1888. Nicely located for the time, on what was Bohemian Broadway.

PAUL MOLE: Walk west to Lexington and up to 74th. They have been cutting hair at this second-floor barber for a century.

WILLIAM POLL: Further up, at 75th, is this oddball purveyor of fancy dips and other delicacies, which has stood here since 1921.



EISNER CHEMISTS: At 79th is this, another reminder of the area’s German past, here for many decades.

LASCOFF DRUGS: Walk up to 82nd. Of all the ancient pharmacies in the city, perhaps only Bigelow is older, and none is grander than this 1899 Gothic corner masterpiece, where the sale of dental floss is treated with the seriousness of a bank transaction, and conducted in like silence.


LEXINGTON CANDY SHOP: This 1925 soda fountain is a nice place to end your tour. Have a real malted milk shake, or a Coke made with genuine syrup, and rest your feet.

Joseph Patelson Music House to Last Until End of April

Joseph Patelson Music House in Manhattan—who imminent closing Lost City reported on April 9—will shutter by the end of April, an April 12 New York Times article stated.

Marsha Patelson, the daughter-in-law of the founder, said she planned to close the store and sell its home, an 1879 carriage house that sits a baton’s throw across 56th Street from the Carnegie Hall stage door. It is falling victim to a transfigured world, in which the power of digital retail has made places like used bookshops, record stores and sheet-music dealers little more than quaint relics.

Nowadays numerous Web sites offer sheet music for sale, either by mail or download. Publishers like G. Schirmer sell directly online. Other sites provide free downloads for works in the public domain.

Ms. Patelson said the store had been losing money for years. “I put everything into it, my heart and soul,” she said, as well as a large amount of her own money. “I feel badly, but on the other hand the reason this business is going is because people stopped buying much here.”

Ms. Patelson has no specific closing date, she said, but will shut the store by the end of April after selling off as much stock as she can. “It’s like trying to put a final date on your life,” she said.

A Good Sign: Glaser Bake Shop

The old Glaser Bake Shop on First Avenue near 87th Street. Founded in 1902. Family owned.

What Your Mayor Is Up To

Wearing shirtsleeves and pretending like he talks to Regular Joes all the time. [Queens Crap]

Launching mud-slinging telephone "surveys" about candidates who may not even be running against him. [NY Times]

Hosting fund-raisers for log-rolling City Councilmen who helped him roll back term limits. [NY Post, via Queens Crap]

Scaring off competition with a early $3 million ad blitz. [NY Times]

Flouting his own environmental causes by sending out wasteful mailings. [City Room]

Go Away Guys, You're Giving Me the Creeps

From MGNY903 of the Lost City Flickr Pool.

Lost City Asks "Who Goes to Heidelberg Restaurant"?

A trifle weary of eating French, Spanish and Italian in service of the Who Goes There? on Eater, Lost City found some culinary respite at Heidelberg, one of the few German restaurants in town that can call itself old. I was a surprised to see how corny the interior of this beer hall is; you'd think it was set up a few years ago with the intention of capturing the quintessential beer garden "feel." I guess the pursuit of kitsch is an older one than is commonly imagined. Still, there's plenty of genuine Germanic feeling to the place, deriving from the rare German beers on tap, German help and overheard German conversations.

Here's the piece:

Who Goes There? Heidelberg Restaurant

The next time I have $100 in my pocket that’s not doing anything, I’m going to head back to the Heidelberg Restaurant in Yorkville and drink beer out of a glass boot. It’s not so much the beer that’ll set you back at this 72-year-old UES relic (though that will cost you roughly $30). It’s the boot-shaped steins, which are lined up being the bar like so many of Kaiser Wilhelm’s footsoldiers. You have to plunk down a $60 deposit just to use one. Hey, I can’t blame management. If I had just drunk two liters of beer, I might be liable to drop my glass, too.

Most of old German Yorkville died out long ago. Restaurant-wise, the Heidelberg on Second Avenue is what remains. It’s part authentica (German beers, like Dinkel Acker and Erdinger Hefe Weizen, that you’d be hard pressed to get on tap elsewhere) and part kitsch (waiters in black lederhosen). The bar’s an experience in itself. You’re cautioned that beers are drawn the German way. That means a seven-minute wait for each draft. Your patience is rewarded with a head as big and frothy as the ones that beer commercials always promise you.

The bartendress was not just German-American, but GERMAN. And how. When I moved from the bar to a table in the dark-timbered dining area, she issued a friendly order along the lines of “You will pay for your beer now.” The menu has bratwurst, sauerbraten, wiener schnitzel, sauere nieren (sour kidneys) and eisbein (boiled pigs knuckles). A young regular at the bar who’d grown up in Yorkville, and called the Heidelberg Little Germany’s “last stand,” recommended the schnitzel. I went that way and wasn’t disappointed.

While eating, I ran into a friend who lives in the area and eats there regularly. He said the place is regularly packed with locals and loyal survivors of the once-strong German community. German conversations are not uncommon, and you’ll hear other languages as well, since a good number of European tourists seem to know about the Heidelberg. I don’t doubt my friend’s information, but mid-evening the night I ate there recently, I was one among maybe eight diners. All of us were entertained by a one-man band, who wore a Tyrolean hat, made accordion noises with his keyboard, and played “Edelweiss” and “Santa Lucia,” among other treasured Teutonic standards. Between his dreamy song stylings, the heavy food and the lager, and the overwarm temperature the room is kept at, Heidelberg could easily induce a midmeal nap. So be sure to get coffee at the end of your meal.
—Brooks of Sheffield

Previous "Who Goes There?" Features

Recipes of the Lost City: Klube's Bavarian Potatoes

I have written quite a bit about Klube's, the "Little Luchow's" on 23rd Street, lately, so it seems appropriate to print one of their recipes.

The German eatery was well-known and respected enough in the 1950s to be mentioned a few times in the New York Times. That paper is where I found the below recipe, which I have tried and can vouch for as a simple and satisfying side dish.

Mother Klube’s Bavarian Potatoes

1 quart large potato cubes
1 large onion, finely chopped
2 T. butter
1 T. vinegar

Boil potatoes in salted water, drain and place in a covered vegetable dish. Saute onion in butter till well browned. Add vinegar and pour over potatoes.

In other Klube's news, the descendant of the restaurant's founder who contacted me recently was kind enough to send me a picture of Agnes Klinger Klube, the wife of founder Carl August Klube. There she is above. What can you say but "Wow." That was one smart-looking, self-assure lady. One can just see her strolling around Madison Square Park.

Previous Recipes of the Lost City

Joseph Patelson Music House May Close in a Week

The Joseph Patelson Music House, which traces its history back 89 years, and has long had a place on W. 56th Street near Carnegie Hall, may close in a week's time.

The Philadelphia Inquirer, of all publications—taking a Philly Orchestra angle—reported recently that clerks are anxious and shelves are increasingly bare at the musicians' resource. Said one clerk, "There’s no definite timetable. If I had to say, the end of the year." Marsha Patelson, owner of the store and a cellist, did not return the paper's phone calls.

However, a well-placed source tells Lost City that the store will likely close in a week's time.

It's still a family business. It began as the Half-Price Music Shop on Cooper Square, run by one Ernest Cook. Cook hired a student named Joseph Patelson, and left the business to him when he died in 1939. Patelson died in 1992, leaving the store to son Dan Patelson. That Patelson died in 2004, and his widow, Marsha, took over. Over the years, the business has moved to W. 59th Street, then 57th, the 56th, then, in 1947, another building on 56th, where it's been ever since.

I needn't point out that this news come hot of the heels of dire warnings as to the future of Music Row and Tin Pan Alley. In it's time, New York City has created much of the world's most lasting music. Does anyone care about this heritage anymore? Does City Hall? It seems not.

Lost City's Guide to Gowanus

Gowanus always seemed to me a leftover neighborhood. It's composed of the blocks that Park Slope, Carroll Gardens and Boerum Hill don't want for themselves. Still, for those who like landscapes that evoke New York's bygone industrial era (that would be me), it has its share of architectural and cultural attractions.

LYCEUM THEATRE: This triumphant structure stands on Fourth Avenue, the eastern border of Gowanus, between President and Union Streets. It was built in 1906 as a public bath, though it actually looks more like a theatre. Now, it frequently is used as a theatre, among other things. Anyway, it's active.

TWO TOMS: Walk west down Union and turn left at Third. The downtrodden patch of Third Avenue below Union Street has always been a favorite area of mine, mainly due to its hints at the Italian enclave the once thrived here. The classic corner Italian-American Grocery is gone, but the Glory Social Club is still around, as is Two Toms, an old-school Italian restaurant that feels like a social club. Plain tables, no decor and no menu; the waiter will tell you what's available. It's often closed for private parties.


MONTE'S VENETIAN ROOM: Walk down to Carroll and turn right, heading toward the canal. Monte's, though much altered, may be the oldest Italian eatery in the City, having been founded in 1906. They let you know that Frank Sinatra used to frequent the place by pasting the Voice's portrait near the entrance. During Prohibition, it was a speakeasy. Inside there are curved red banquettes and a huge mural of Venice that dates back to the Depression. That such a place should survive a century on a nondescript side street next to a fetid canal is a miracle in itself.


THE CARROLL STREET BRIDGE: Walk a few paces closer to the canal. Here is one of my favorite landmarks in the entire city. The Carroll Street Bridge may not look like much at first gander, but it is one of a kind. Or, rather, one of four of a kind. Built in 1889, it is the oldest of four remaining retractable bridges in the country. It is still cranked back every time a ship comes through. The Belgian bricks of Carroll Street give way to the wooden planks of the bridge, making for a very pretty picture. Artists often choose the bridge as a place to paint.


SOUTH BROOKLYN CASKET COMPANY: Walk north up Nevins Street to Union and turn east to Third Avenue. Gowanus doesn't have much industry left, but this outfit stands firm, because there's never a dip in the death market. When people on the B71 bus see the name lettered across the low, red-brick building, they usually laugh or gape in awe, not certain of what they're seeing. The name is too classic; it's like something a novelist of screenwriter would come up with. The business is the subject of ghoulish fascination for many, and the workers do not appreciate the curious who hang around trying to get a peek of what goes on inside. Sometimes, however, if you're lucky, you'll catch the workers loading their cargo onto trucks idling on Union. Brooklyn at work! And rest.


DAILY NEWS BROOKLYN GARAGE: Turn north on Third and walk to the block between Degraw and Douglass. This forlorn area of Brooklyn seems to have been where the big newspapers kept their warehouses. The New York Times facility is just up the avenue a few. Here is the former Daily News haunt. The News decamped a while ago, but we can still enjoy the bold, mausoleum-like structure, particularly the detail used in carving out the tabloid's signature image of the camera.


THE GOWANUS WATER STATION: Proceed north to Butler and turn left until you get to Nevins Street. Finding living history in Gowanus is tough; so many of the historic things have closed or disappeared. This beautiful pumping station is a supreme example of how utilitarian civic structures can bring beauty and majesty to an otherwise rough area. Check out the insignia with the Dutch windmill up top.


AMERICAN SOCIETY FOR THE PREVENTION OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS BUILDING: Across the street from the pumping station, further down Butler, is a building erected in the 1920s by the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animal. It was the headquarters of all society activities in Brooklyn, and contained offices, an ambulance house and even shelters for animals. The words above the door say the building is the Rogers Memorial. Who Rogers was I have not learned.

ST. AGNES ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH: Turn left on Nevins, heading south. Turn right on Union and cross the UNION STREET BRIDGE—not as famous as the Carroll Street Bridge, but not an unenjoyable span. Walk to Hoyt Street and turn right to Sackett. As it so dominates the skyline around here, it's funny that the hulking St. Agnes doesn't get more attention. I think it's one of the more unappreciated churches in Brooklyn. It's the sole surviving creation of Thomas F. Houghton, the son-in-law of Brooklyn's most prolific church builder, Patrick Charles Keely.



MAGIC TOUCH RESTAURANT: To end, double back on Hoyt, walk south until you reach 3rd Street. Look up. Here is one of my favorite lost eateries in the city. The Magic Touch is long gone, but the swankarific sign hangs on for all to enjoy. I tip my top hat to it.

A Good Sign: Melody Lanes

In Sunset Park, Brooklyn. Picture courtesy of Lost Flickr Pool member lostinbrooklyn.

Big Sign, Small Store

The Catene Deli has been holding down a corner of Fourth Avenue and 9th Street in Brooklyn for 44 years. You'd think from the signage that the joint was a major affair. But walk in and you find the narrowest of spaces. Counter on the left, cold sodas in the back. It does not stretch the length of the Catene sign by any means. Instead, it's about as wide as the "Heroes" end of the awning.

There is no menu posted. The only way of telling what they've got is to browse through the take-out menu. Fried Calamari would seem to be a specialty, based on the sign, and certain testimonials on the blogosphere.

Landmarks Commision: Stupidity Incarnate

You knew it, but weren't quite 100% sure. But today, courtesy of the Brooklyn Paper, comes the final piece of evidence that the Landmarks Preservation Commission is run by dunderheaded idiots who wouldn't know a landmark if they lived on the top floor of the Tower of Pisa, and wouldn't know what's good for New York if they roomed with the spirit of Peter Stuyvesant.

You've heard about the imminent return of Armando's, the decades-old Brooklyn eatery that gave up its spice to something called Spicy Pickle last year, but, when the chain defaulted on its lease, decided to move on back into its Montague Street space? Hooray!—right?

Well, the Landmarks Commission is intent on spoiling that homecoming. When Armando's departed, it took its classic neon sign with it. (See above.) Now, the Commission isn't so sure the restaurant’s owner, Peter Byros, can rehang the sign, as he would like to. Wrote the Brooklyn Paper, "the city Landmark Preservation Commission must first rule if the sign is an appropriate addition — make that re-addition — to the streetscape of historic Montague Street."

The sign—with its wonderful neon lobster and colors of red, green and blue—was installed more than 70 years ago. When the area was given historic status in 1965, the neon sign was grandfathered in. By taking down the sign, Byros lost its protected status.

Byros is working with the city, but some Brooklynites are not working with him. "It may need to be smaller and it may need to be modernized," an ignoramus named Judy Stanton, who is somehow the executive director of the Brooklyn Heights Association, but would be better off as the recording secretary of the Bloomington, Indiana, BID, told Brooklyn Paper. Ms. Stanton, as my mother used to say, has her sense of taste in her mouth.

Now, let's be brutally honest here. The best thing about Armando's was the neon sign. The food was OK. The decor had been modernized over the years and didn't have a lot of remaining character. Armando's had two big pluses going for it: the fact that it was 72 years old; and that wonderful old sign. Christopher Gray recently wrote in the Times that "Armando’s Restaurant, at 143 Montague Street in Brooklyn Heights, had a rare green-red-blue-yellow combination for its restaurant, with a lobster in yellow."

What does faceless old Montague Street have anymore that's worth looking at? Garden of Eden? Starbuck's? Banana Republic? It's anonymous and personality-free. Only a fool would pass up the chance to rehang the Armando's sign. But fools is who you've got sitting on the Landmarks Commission and on the Brooklyn Heights Association.

Byros: if you need someone to speak on behalf of your sign, and think I could do any little bit of good, contact me.

The Brooklyn Corporation

I have been holding off on writing about Rupert Murdoch's New Corporation buying the 30-year-old Brooklyn Paper, mainly because I like the publication and its coverage, and I slightly know the publisher.

The acquisition was mentioned by a couple speakers at the recent memorial for Gowanus Lounge blogger Robert Guskind, and not in approving terms. I have to agree that I share their concern. Brooklyn has long lacked for strong editorial voices sounded on the borough's behalf. The big Manhattan dailies do not care overly much what happens in Brooklyn. So a lot depends on what is covered in the smaller-league publications based in Kings County.

News Corp. already owns the Courier Life Publications, which include such titles as the Carroll Gardens/Cobble Hill Courier, the Fort Greene/Clinton Hill Courier, the Bay Ridge Courier, Flatbush Life, the Park Slope Courier and Brooklyn Heights Courier. With the Brooklyn Paper, that's too much of Brooklyn news covered by one man (from Australia!) for my comfort.

It's quite obvious to me that the politically conservative Murdoch is intent on controlling news coverage in the politically liberal New York. He already owns the New York Post and Wall Street Journal, among the major dailies. In Queens, he owns the TimesLedger Newspapers and in the Bronx he has the Bronx Times Reporter. (All these smaller local papers work out of the same suite of office in the Metrotech complex.)

The people who edit these publications like to assert that Murdoch loves their publications and doesn't wish them to change. Anyone who believes that is afflicted with almost criminal-level credulity. The mogul is intent on a monopoly of media opinion and nothing short. So, Brooklyn bloggers, be on guard.

A Good Sign: Wash and Dry

Sent to the Lost City Flickr Pool by 12th Street David.

Old Media Faces the Music

Hey, that only took six weeks.

After consistently reporting on this blog that Manny's Music—the hallowed instrument store on W. 48th Street's Music Row—was closing for good in May, and that the rest of the block may soon fall into the hands of expanding Rockefeller Center, Old Media finally noticed.

Following my most recent, April 5 post—in which I reprinted a selection of the dozens of heartfelt comments I've have received from Manny's-loving readers—the dailies, radio and television spring into action.

In the New York Post:

"The 48th Street scene is changing drastically," said Paul Ash, president of guitar-store chain Sam Ash, which bought Manny's a decade ago and owns several other music stores on the block. "The whole industry is down."

But he said the biggest challenge has come from the Rockefeller Group, a real-estate developer that has bought up most of the small buildings housing the shops with the aim of tearing them down to build office towers. The company chose not to renew Manny's lease.

And in Crain's, a contradictory report:

The New York Post reported on Monday that the musical instruments retailer, a rock ‘n roll fixture at 156 W. 48th St. for 75 years, would be leaving its Big Apple digs because landlord Rockefeller Group Development Corp. would not renew the company’s lease.

But Rockefeller Group said in a statement that it has been in negotiations with Manny’s, which is owned by the Sam Ash chain, for over a year in order to extend the music store’s lease. In fact, the landlord has offered Sam Ash a lease extension through 2013.

“As the landlord, we would be happy to have Manny’s Music continue as a tenant in the building,” Rockefeller Group said in a statement.

What's going on here?

And, also from Crain's yikes!:

Real estate insiders speculate that the company will build an office tower or retail restaurant or superstore. Restaurants such as the Cheesecake Factory and Houston’s, and even the International House of Pancakes, have been looking for space in the neighborhood. Apparel tenants are also drawn to the bright lights near Times Square, hoping to follow in the footsteps of teen retailers American Eagle and Forever 21, both of which recently leased large spaces in the vicinity.

There was no mention of Lost City breaking the story in either of these accounts. I guess it would be too embarrassing to lead your April 6 story with, "The blog Lost city reported on Feb. 20...."

Apparently, there was also a story on Channel 11, and I know that CNN is working on something.

How to Identify Your Building With Style

Now, isn't this stylish and original? I found this old doorway on E. 84th Street the other day. It not only tells you the number of the building, but where you are in terms of the greater neighborhood, and informs you with style (check out that "6") and wit (the very New York abbreviation "Lex").

Convent of the Holy Debris

Last week, a wrote sometime about an ancient wall that lines the corner of Kane and Henry Streets in Cobble Hill. A reader did some detective work and informed me that it once surrounded a convent called the the Nursing Sisters of the Sick Poor/Congregation of the Infant Jesus, an order which began in France.

This made me even more curious about the crumbling, vine-covered wall, which was built in 1913—as did a comment that said now the wall sadly now hides a car park. So, the next time I passed, I scaled the wrought-iron fence that surrounds the stone wall and had a peek inside. No car park; that lot is further to the east. Just a backyard choked with tons of garbage, junk and debris. Flower pots, tarp, construction cones, cinder block, kids' toys, garbage cans, crates. A real Hillbilly's yard. All that was missing was the rusted-out hull of a car. Such a shame.

I did, however, also discover something encouraging. It seems that not all of the convent is gone. Take a look at that window over the back door. Nothing but a religious structure would incorporate a window that shape. That is clearly a remnant of the convent. I wonder what the building looks like inside.

What Your Mayor Is Up To

Pretending to be like Obama, so Democrats will like him.

Pretending to be a Republican so conservatives like him. [The Daily News]

Killing Harlem with his rezoning schemes. [NY Post]

Killing Willets Point with his rezoning schemes, not to mention abuse of eminent domain and the police department. [Daily News via Queens Crap]

Killing Coney Island with his city planning schemes and dickering over price. [NY Observer]

Killing trees with his vanity art projects. [Gothamist]

Paying out money to spread trash about his rivals. [NY Times]

DUMP this lying, scheming, autocratic megalomaniac in 2008. He's a toxin. He's a cancer. He's the new one-man political Mafia. He's not your friend. He's nobody's friend.

Has the Economy Decimated Your Tassel Budget?

Worry not?

Isn't New York great? There's a store for everything.

Balducci's to Close at End of April

Just days after it was reported that Bazzini might be abandoning its Tribeca store, another famous name in New York gourmet food has thrown in the towel.

The New York Post reveals that the 63-year-old Balducci's is closing its two Manhattan locations at the end of April. The local chain had already closed its famous Greenwich Village store in 2003. It will now shutter its stations at on West 66th Street near Lincoln Center, and the 17,000-square-foot store that opened in 2005 in a former bank at Eighth Avenue and 14th Street in Chelsea.

Also being closed by Sutton Place, the company that bought the former family biz in 2003, will be locations in Ridgefield, CT and one in D.C.

Garry's in the Light

Eugene Gannon sent this picture of Garry's Jewelers in Park Slope into Lost City's Flickr pool. You know, I don't think I've ever seen Garry's with it's neon sign on. I always assumed it was electronically dead.

A Sampling of Manny's Mourners

Though New York mainstream press continues to ignore the story of the Music Row legend Manny's coming closure this May, the many devotees of the W. 48th Street store continue to mourn the store's end on a daily basis. My original posting, on Feb. 20, has now logged dozens of comments, with one or two arriving each day as musicians around the nation awake to the unsettling news.

I thought, given the sincere regret which which many of these comments are invested, it might be worth spotlighting a few of the more remarkable. Quite a few stories here. Here follows a sampling:

Through the years, met Peter Frampton (before "... comes alive"), Chris Squire, Bo Diddley, Pete Townshend, Leslie West and more, at Manny's back in the 70's ... a thrill for a kid aspiring to play guitar! Very sad indeed!—Todd Wolfe

Very sad indeed. As a kid I worked for Buddah /Kama Sutra records just a few blocks away at 1650 Broadway at that time. I would go there with the Kelly Isley of the Isley Brothers. It was as much as a meeting place as it was the store to purchase an instrument.—Ian M. Marlowe

I grew up in Hackensack, NJ . We used to play hooky and take the bus to NYC and spend the better part of the day at Manny's. I can still visualize Henry walking around the store and calling out to one of the employees to bring down a guitar from upstairs. How about that beat up yellow Danelectro (?) solid body guitar that everyone would play when trying out different amps. I bought alot of equipment there in the 60's, my first wah wah pedal (Vox), a Maestro fuzz tone, after hearing Satisfaction on the radio. I remember buying a used 63' Gretsch Country Gentleman from Henry for $325 in 1967. The store is a musical landmark for sure. I met Elliot Randall and Gene Cornish there. One time I remember seeing a new set of drums up against a side wall with Ringo Starr's name stenciled across each case. I think we waited at least two hours hoping he might pick them up himself. I'm sorry to see it go. Hey, the Stones live in the city, maybe they could buy the building and preserve it as piece of musical history.—Rob Heinick

Ed Pomerant was at Manny's the day the Beatles Crew came in to pickup the Ludwig Drums and A Zilgan Cymbals for the Ed Sullivan show the next day. I decided to get the identical set of Gray Pearl but they only had the Blue Pearl left. Manny himself waited on me.—Ed

I was playing at the Lone Star Cafe in 1981...forgot a bag of guitar cables & stompboxes at our previous gig in Baltimore. One call to Manny's, and they set me right up, then wouldn't take back the gear afterwords...said it was their contribution to our band!!! Let's see a music store do something like that today!!! What a bummer!!!—Mike Armstrong

In 1972, my fiancée took me to Manny’s to buy me an engagement present, where this cool little Jazz Guitar playing dude sold me a Baldwin Ode Banjo. 18 years later I went there to find something special, and the same Jazz Guitar playing dude sold me a white Gibson J-200 guitar that I have never seen any other place.—Eric Hilton

Back as an early teen, my late brother and I would hop on the A- Train from the Heights and 'go aching' (a semi-rhyming slang thing for 'forty EIGHTH') meaning we were going down to 48th to 'ache' for the gear we couldn't actually afford in the windows of Manny's and the other music shops on the street. Topped off with an Orange Julius, it made for a fun afternoon.

The thing about Manny's was back then you couldn't actually touch the guitars. You'd come in the store, point to a guitar you wanted to see and say 'let me try that one'. Billy, the old jazz cat who worked the counter back then, would reply 'You gonna buy it today'? Of course you weren't, so that would be that. The policy got more relaxed in later years (or maybe we just got older and looked like we had some coin).

The old yellow Danelectro 'tester' guitar (which is now in pieces behind plexiglas in the store) should be donated to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Everyboy who is anybody in the business has touched that guitar; it's like the Blarney Stone of the music industry. —Glenn "G Man" Govier

In 1978, I met BB King at Manny's. I had seen him the night before at the Bottom Line. I was in the market for a guitar and was trying out the Gibson model that BB played (ES 355), when he walked in to buy a case. I got to say hello, shake his hand, tell him I much I loved the show. (Then I went down the block and bought a '63 ES 175 from Alex.)

That's the kind of place it was -- where you could see a show the night before, one that changed your life, and then run into the star buying a case. At Manny's. —Brendan

It's getting really bad as the other post states, CBGB'S , Roxy and on to the Studios. I started at The Record Plant on 44th in NYC then The Hit Factory on 48th st. As the trees fall now the last hold out goes away, MANNYS MUSIC its freaking bad. I bought my first Gibson ES-335 at Manny's in the early 70's. From the places to purchase to the places we made music in to the places to we had fun in. IT'S ALL GOING AWAY..SAD TIMES WE HAVE. What next US? As Frank Zappa said "here come the Brain Police" —Howie Lindeman

Guskind Remembered

I returned from the memorial for Gowanus Lounge creator and "Brooklyn Blogfather" Bob Guskind a few hours ago. It was held at the Brooklyn Lyceum on Fourth Avenue and I'm happy to state that there was a strong showing, with nearly every space filled in the rows of pews that were set up.

In my role of journalist, I have been sent by editors to cover a good number of memorials. Some have been more inspiring than others. Many have been rather perfunctory. I can honestly say, however, that I have never experienced a more genuine outpouring of sincere feeling that what was expressed for three straight hours today—some of the sentiments expressed by people who had—amazingly, considering their words—never met Bob in person.

I am hesitant to give a full accounting of what was said, or render my impression of the event, primarily because of the words that were imparted (with passion, with fervor, with compassion) by a man who was probably the oldest friend of Bob present at the memorial. This man, who met Guskind in college, communicated some well-intended indignation about some of what had been written on the blogosphere about Bob and his death, and reminded the collected crowd that few in attendance knew Guskind well, or, at least, beyond his function as the editor of GL. He was right, of course. When a man dies—particularly when he dies under ambiguous, seemingly sad circumstances, such as Bob did—they are inclined to speculate and to begin to seen the man's life through the prism of his death, ignoring the long life that preceded it. That sort of accounting rarely does a man justice.

A good representation of the Brooklyn, and greater, blog world was there. Among the speakers were the creators of Gothamist (Jake Dobkin), Curbed (Lockhart Steele), Flatbush Gardener (Chris Kreussling), Only the Blog Knows Brooklyn (Louise Crawford), Pardon Me for Asking (Katia Kelly), Best View in Brooklyn, Brooklyn 11211, the Atlantic Yards Report (Norman Oder), as well as Gowanus Lounge contributors Miss Heather, E.C. Stephens, Nate Kensinger and Deborah Matlack. Also on hand was Sheryl Imperati of The World According to Bitchcakes and Carolina Salguero of Portside New York.

Listening to everyone's descriptions of the gregarious, soulful, Falstaffian figure that Guskind seemed to have been, I was newly saddened that I had never met him in person. I was also struck that everyone felt, as I did, that there was now a great vacancy in the center of the Brookyn blogosphere and, indeed, the Brooklyn community—one that wouldn't easily be filled. Everyone spoke eloquently and from the heart. These are not the sort of journalists who write well but crumple when asked to speak in public. They are passionate and articulate in print and in person. Like Guskind.

Ridgewood Clock Saved

Queens Crap has a wonderful story about an anonymous citizen who saves an irreplaceable clock in Queens. I personally know nothing of this clock, but any fool who takes a look at the above picture can see its worth is great. It hung on a building at the corner of Forest and Metropolitan Avenues for decades and was "an unofficial neighborhood landmark."

Then along came Mr. P.D.Q. Developer who decreed, "This corner needs a Walgreen's. Now!" Down came the building. But, wrote one Anonymous, "Luckily, yours truly noticed the clock was still hanging around, made a phone call, and a friend procured it from the demo company. There are plans to restore it to working condition and install it on another local building. If anyone knows a good coppersmith or clockmaker, we'd welcome your referrals."

Anonymous, step forward, and collect your praise. And if you can't find another building to put the clock on, give me a call and hook it up to my brownstone.

A Reminder

The memorial for the late blogger Robert Guskind of Gowanus Lounge fame is tomorrow, Saturday, April 4, from 2 pm to 5 pm at the Brooklyn Lyceum, on Fourth Avenue between Union and President Streets in Park Slope.

In Bob's honor, enjoy the street couch pictured above.

A Good Sign: Nu-Look Cleaners

Need a new look? Or, better yet, a Nu-Look? Here's the dry cleaners for you. On E. 85th Street.

More About Klube’s Than You Need to Know

My favorite part of maintaining Lost City are the occasions when, while reaching out to New York’s past, New York’s past reaches out to me. After writing about their family’s long-gone businesses, I have been contacted by descendents of the founders of Krauser Hardware and Cafiero’s restaurant in Brooklyn and The Colony restaurant in Manhattan.

Recently, I posted something about the Grand Saloon on 23rd Street, a former brothel and speakeasy that spent a good deal of its existence (as an extant sign, above, attests) as Klube’s Restaurant. Soonafter, I received an e-mail from the great-grandchild of the Klube who founded the place! As I usually do in such situations, I pressed this person for information. After all, the information we have on Klube’s is sketchy at best.

The original Mr. Carl August Klube had worked in Germany as a waiter before he came to America and bought what would become Klube’s in 1911. In 1908, he married Agnes Klinger, who had also been born in Germany. Agnes’ brothers Henry and Joe had butcher shops on Third Avenue.

Klube’s was a restaurant and bar. It was actually originally called Klube & Klinger’s, which is, frankly, a mouthful. Since the Klube family owned it during Prohibition, it’s a pretty safe bet that they ran it as a speakeasy in the 1920s. In its day, it was known as the Little Luchow’s—a reference to the more famous German restaurant.

The family apparently did pretty well by the place. Old man Klube wore three-piece suits, a diamond stick pin and a pinky ring. His wife was an avid shopper with a driver and a personal maid. The couple had one son, Carl Henry Klube, who eventually assumed control of the place and ran it into the 1960s. Victor Borge was a regular guest. A 1950 Times account has a man named Hans Nitzsche as having been Klube’s chef for decades. The third-generation Klube worked there for a short time, but soon after it was sold.

I have also discovered some old recipes from Klube's, but I'll save them for a future day.

Bazzini's to Leave Tribeca Home

Bad news today for those clinging to the few remaining scraps of living history Tribeca has to offer. The Downtown Express reports that the age-old food-purveyor Bazzini is looking to close its shop for good. Nothing's solid right now, but owner Rocco D'Amato is fishing around for a tenant.

Bazzini's presence in Tribeca reminds us that the area used to be a huge food market, with warehouses full of nuts, fruit, eggs, cheese and whatever along every street. Bazzini stuck around by turning its former nut store and factory into a gourmet food market and cafe. Reports the Express, "The D’Amatos bought the Bazzini business and building at 339 Greenwich St. in 1983 from Teddy Bazzini, a nephew of the founder, A.L. Bazzini. Teddy told Rocco that the factory had a nuts store since the Depression. According to Bazzini’s Web site, A.L. started the wholesale business 119 years ago."

The real factory is now in Hunts Point in the Bronx and the Tribeca building was converted to (what else?) condos. I've never been a huge fan of Bazzini products (or their prices), but, jeez, if they leave, what does Tribeca have except fancy restaurants, condos and coops? A whole lot of beautiful industrial architecture without a soul.

Lost City's Guide to Boerum Hill

This is the eighth of Lost City's guides to the shards of living history and cultural potency that remain in various New York neighborhoods. The tours are published occasionally. Previous guides can be found along the right-hand navigation bar.

First off, let me say that I consider the western border of Boerum Hill to run straight down Smith Street. I know that there is some dispute about this. Some say it stretches to Court Street. But I suspect this is the work of real estate brokers who know the listing "Cobble Hill" will fetch them more money that "Boerum Hill." Furthermore, I don't know any merchant on the east side of Court who thinks they're part of Boerum Hill.

I am perfectly in accord with the other borders: State Street at the north end, Fourth Avenue to the east and Warren Street to the south. For many years, I considered the neighborhood a kind of Johnny-come-lately wannabe area, riding on the fast-gentrifying coattails of Cobble Hill and Carroll Gardens. In the last five years though, though many bike trips through its street, I've come to love the place and recognize it as having a distinct character of its own.

THE NEW ST. CLAIR RESTAURANT: This diner is as good a place as any to begin a Boerum Hill tour. Founded in 1920 at the corner of Smith and Atlantic, it's one of the oldest, consistently operating businesses in the area and has seen many waves of incomers, from Italians and Irish to Hispanic peoples to Yuppies. It's been through a few transformations in that time, the most recent being in 2008. So it doesn't look very old. But its spirit is.

THE STATE STREET HOUSES: Walk north to State Street. The block of State between Smith and Hoyt contains 23 beautifully preserved Renaissance Revival brownstones dating from the 1840s to the 1870s. The group is landmarked.

CHURCHES: Head back to Atlantic. At the north corner with Bond, there's the stark Byelorussian Autocephalic Orthodox Church, which is kind of simple and plain, but which I love because it's called the Byelorussian Autocephalic Orthodox Church. Down the block is the House of the Lord Pentecostal Church, a nice Romanesque Revival job. It used to be the Swedish Pilgrims' Evangelical Church, when there were tons of Swedes along Atlantic.


SYNAGOGUE: Look across the street at 368 Atlantic at what used to be Talmud Torah Beth Jacob Joseph. The slim 1917 structure was an antique store for a long time. Now it's something tacky called the Deity Lounge. You need an invitation to gain admittance. Eesh.

EX-LAX BUILDING: Walk down to 423-443 on the North side of Atlantic. Yes, Ex-Lax, the king of all laxatives, had its factory here. Even though the huge building was convented to co-ops in 1981, the doorway still proudly proclaims the address' former use. I wonder how it must feel to say you live in the Ex-Lax Building.

TWINS PIZZA: OK, here comes my favorite part of Boerum Hill, the remnants of what used to be "Downtown Caughnawaga." In the middle part of the 20th century, this area was settled by a large collection of Mohawk families, who had moved from a Quebec reservation in the 1920s to take jobs building New York's new skyscrapers. They were particularly adept at this task, as they were not afraid of the dizzying heights at which they had to work. Joseph Mitchell chronicled their lives in his essay "The Mohawks of High Steel." Turn a half-block north of Atlantic on Nevins to the Twins Pizza store. This address, 75 Nevins Street, used to be the Wigwam, a dark bar favored by the Mohawk workers. Over the door was the slogan "The Greatest Iron Workers in the World Pass Thru These Doors." Canadian beer could easily be had.


HANK'S SALOON: Head down Atlantic to Hank's Saloon, at Third Avenue. This rather scary-looking, low-slung dive bar has enough character on its own to merit a mention. It's of further interest, however, as another bar once popular with the Mohawks. It was called the Doray Tavern before it became Hank's, and some Indian workers lived upstairs, above the bar.



CUYLER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH: Walk down to Pacific Street to No. 358 between Hoyt and Bond. This former church—now a private residence with a landmarked facade—was where the Mohawks went to worship for decades. There was a yearly pow-wow, with traditional dances, prayers and smoke signals. It was built in the 1890s.



NEW YORK TIMES WAREHOUSE: On the block of Third Avenue between Dean and Pacific is a highly ornate, neo-Classical warehouse befitting the proud nature of its former owner: the New York Times. Notice the various noble friezes at various points on the building.

THE SIDE STREETS: As you roam around Boerum Hill, be sure to take note of the curious array of short and unusual brick structures that line Hoyt, Bond and Nevins Streets between State and Bergen. Unlike Cobble Hill, which tucked its carriage house and stables on the east-west streets, reserving the north-south veins like Clinton and Henry for grand brownstones, Boerum Hill seems to have employed its east-west thoroughfares such as Dean and Bergen for displaying the public face of its architecture. The workaday structure meant for storing stuff were put Nevins et al. Today, this makes for fun viewing as you turn corners and confront odd-job one-story and two-story structures, now converted into quaint homes.



THE BROOKLYN INN: Be sure to make time for a beer at the Brooklyn Inn, at the corner of Hoyt and Bergen. One of the oldest watering holes in the borough, it has retained much of its 19th-century architectural details and feel, and has an invitingly anonymous atmosphere.


108 WYCKOFF STREET: An impromptu piece of urban, outdoor art. Half the three-story home is caked with a near-decades worth of tiles, sequins, mirrors and do-dads, all applied one by one by artist Susan Gardner, who lives inside. It's a delight.


ZIAD'S DELI: Head back to Smith, just north of Bergen. For me, and many others, Boerum Hill is Jonathan Letham Land, an area depicted in colorful detail in the writer's novels "Motherless Brooklyn" and "The Fortress of Solitude." Ziad's is a nothing-special deli, except that it was the basis of the deli Zeod's, which the hero of "Motherless Brooklyn" frequently visited. The Brooklyn Inn also makes an appearance in the book.

Patois' "Rude Owners" Move Brooklyn Restaurant to Mulberry Street

Those rumors you heard about pioneering Smith Street eatery Patois moving from Brooklyn to Manhattan—they're not rumors anymore. It's there, at 177 Mulberry Street!

So says a big piece of paper in the window of the French restaurant's old Smith Street space, which it vacated last January. Titled "For Immediate Release," it says that "we are now open 7 days and feature the same great food and wine and are run by the same rude owners. We now have a full-bar so you can start your meal with a dirty, Ketel One martini straight up!"

Among the "bullet points" listed on a separate piece of paper are "virtually stress free parking after 7 PM" (who drives?) and "Hit Whole Foods on the way back!" (who wants to?) and "$12.95 unlimited mimosas" (uh, ick).

I'm sorry, did the owners lose their sense of taste on the trip over the East River? A dirty Ketel One martini, indeed. Good thing they beat it out of Smith Street before the Clover Club cocktail police came after them for shit like that.

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Mystery Door Gets More Mysterious

A couple weeks back, I posted an item about a mysterious doorway in Yorkville that looked like it had been padlocked by Father Time himself sometime back in the 19th century, so rusted over were the metal gates and locks.


I took special notice of an old metal thermometer, advertising an ancient product called Nature's Remedy Vegetable Laxatives, nailed the right side of the door jamb. It seemed proof positive that the door had been locked up ages ago. (A reader informed me that Nature's Remedy later became Tums.)


I happened to be in the neighborhood of 84th and York Avenue again last night, so I took the time to give the door another looksee. And Bammo!—the thermometer is gone! You can see the outlines where it was, and the nail it hung on is still there.

I have a couple theories as to what might have happened. My post might have excited the felonious tendencies of some lusting antique collector, who snuck out under cover of night and snatched the thing. A more likely possibility, however, is the owner of the deli of which the doorway is a part—George & Sons Gourmet Deli—took the thermometer down.

Here's why I suspect the owner. Not long after a posted the item, a reader who lives in the neighborhood wrote me to say he was so intrigued, he went and inspected the doorway. I, in turn, asked him if he had queried the deli owner about the door. He said, no, he hadn't, but he was willing to. So he paid another call and asked the deli owner if he knew anything about the weird old doorway. The crazy old merchant responded by giving the poor fellow a kind of third degree, asking where he lived, if he had ID, and then saying he knew all about the door, but refused to tell. Moreover, according to the reader, the deli owner seemed surprised to learn there was a thermometer hanging there.

After seeing that the thermometer was gone, I went into the deli and asked the workers if they knew what had happened to it. They didn't seem to know what I was talking about, and if the owner was among them, he didn't speak up. I went back outside, and saw a man exiting the door that led to the apartments above the deli. He was unaware of the thermometer as well. But he said, "I know the deli doesn't have a proper exhaust system. I live upstairs and it kills me every morning. I've called the EPA but nothing happens."

Given these hints into the deliman's character, I surmise that, alerted to the presence of an old and perhaps valuable thermometer attached to his building, he took it down and is presently trying to get the best price for it on eBay. A shame.

Progress on the Wyckoff Wonder

It was back in March 2007 that I first discovered the wild and wonderful bejeweled address of 108 Wyckoff Street in Boerum Hill, which artist Susan Gardner has been slowly covering with colorful tiles and beads since 2001. I thought that, two years later, it was time to reinspect the evolving mosaic.


The facade of the building remains pretty much the same as it was two years ago (though there are more posters of Obama in the window). But considerable work has been done on the wrought-iron fence that fronts the property. Half the fence is now encrusted with a swarm of colorful and mirrored chips and shards—flowers, grapes, leaves, vines, fruit, checkboards, and other less specifiable things. And on top of many of the posts's are delightful plastic butterflies and bits of fern. Nice touch.

The New F Trains Are Real!

I've heard many accounts from people who have seen them and ridden the, but tonight I finally experienced the new sleek F trains myself. I heard that smooth, female electronic R160 voice say "Next Stop: Second Avenue."

Why Bother?

OK, here you have a piece of friggin' Crapitecture as plain and flagrant as you could ask, on Third Avenue in Gowanus. Obviously, the architect made no attempt whatsoever to make the building distinctive or attractive. No lintels, no cornice, Plain-Jane windows, air-conditioners all over the place—just a boxy blight.

But then you peer inside the "lobby" (I'm being generous by using that term). And what do you find? A chandelier! I mean, what's the point? After the masterpiece in homeliness that is the apartment house, the developer thought he would class things up with this trashy trinket? To little, too late.

A Good Sign: Interborough Subway

Attached to the New York Life Building. Building that were so important they had their own private subway entrance (Bloomingdale's, the Knickerbocker Hotel, Rockefeller Center) are the coolest.

Young Sees the Light Once More

I never stepped foot in the Limelight while the Chelsea nightclub was in operation. I don't know. Drugs and dismemberment just aren't my scene. But the other day I was passing by the former church and noticed it was playing host to a sample sale that was open to the public. So I sauntered in to take a look at the interior.

Not much to see at this point, of course. But in the entranceway was a plaque from the building's holier days. "This porch," it read, "erected by his wife in loving memory commemorates the life and the service of Thomas Sears Young, a trustee of this church from 1897 to 1909. 'One day in Thy courts is better than a thousand.'"

Think old man Young, who was a director of the Equitable Life Insurance Company, was spinning in his grave all those years when club master Peter Gatien was having his way? Think Michael Alig ever gave this plaque a glance and wondered "How am I living my life?"?