Showing posts with label Howard Beach. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Howard Beach. Show all posts

14 November 2011

Auto Repair Center Returned to Nature


It's hard to tell just how long this auto repair shop in Howard Beach has been abandoned—10 years, 20 years—but nature has certainly had its way with it. It's so surrounded and covered by vines and brush that, if not for the chain link fence, one would barely notice it. Beautiful, in its haunted-house-Mayan-ruin way.

07 November 2011

Roadside Pie at New Park Pizza


I was walking to a wedding in Howard Beach when I passed by New Park Pizza at the corner of 157th Avenue and Crossbay Boulevard. I've heard of the old pizzeria over the years, but have never consciously sought it out. So the sight of the grand old neon sign, with its steaming pizza centerpiece, was a happy surprise.


New Park has been owned by the same family sing 1956. Given their look, I'd say the squat, square building and the signage date from that time. The interior, such as it is, sports a long counter with ordering windows and a row of picnic tables. The set-up reminded me of L & B Spumoni Gardens in Bensonhurst. This makes me think that New Park used to operate as a sort of roadside stand in the old days, something like a drive-in. I suspect the picnic tables were now covered and enclosed in the past.


New Park makes brick-oven pizza. I have read accounts that praise it for its smokey bite. The slice tasted more sweet than smoky to me, but I got it at the end of the day. The crust was soft and chewy. First impression: this is an easy-going version of the classic New York slice, but nothing more special or artisan than that. Lovely atmosphere, though. I'd go again.

My one question is: What park does the pizzeria's name refer to?

13 June 2011

Guy's on the Clock in Howard Beach


A reader forwarded me this image. It's one of the damnedest pieces of signage I've ever encountered.

A leather-jacketed tough, 1950s-style, biding his time leaning against a brick wall, standing on top of a...big yellow clock.

WTF? The clock—which has no hands and hasn't worked in years—obviously has nothing to do with the current tenants of the building, an Assemblywoman and some lawyers. The greaser is chained to the wall and a bit weatherbeaten. Any Howard Beachers out there who know the story?