Lost City Asks "Who Goes to Donovan's Pub"?

It's getting harder to cover the restaurants that belong in this column before they close. Lately, I've had to move some places up in the schedule after hearing that their death was imminent. Donovan's Pub in Woodside is one joint I thought I didn't have to hurry to. I expected it would be there forever. Alas, the owner, Joe Donovan, has put it up for sale. I've been there dozens of times. I went once more for this write-up. I hope it's not my last time.

Who Goes There? Donovan's Pub

Donovan's is, as far as I'm concerned, the heart of Woodside. In a neighborhood that once had hundreds of Irish pubs, and still holds on to a decent amount, it's the clear standout. Low-slung and sporting a faux-Tudor exterior, it sprawls over the corner of 58th Street and Roosevelt Avenue, just across from St. Sebastian's Church, presiding benevolently over the triangle known as Carl L. Sohncke Park. Of the two, I'd say the bar rates above the church in neighborhood influence. It has been there longer, after all.

A saloon has been on this corner at least since Prohibition was repealed, and probably before. It's been Donovan's since 1966, when Joe Donovan Sr. and his namesake son, Joe Jr., bought the business and turned it into a bustling success, serving nothing but beer, burgers, steaks and a bottomless tap of hospitality. Joe Jr. is still the owner, though he's rarely seen on the premises. The Donovan you will see at Donovan's is Jack, the general manager. Like Joe, Jack used to be a cop. He walked the mean streets of 1970s Harlem. You wouldn't peg him for a policeman. With his trim build, manicured silver hair and wire glasses, he looks more like an ex-stockbroker or news anchor.

Jack has no say over Joe's recent decision to put the iconic pub up for sale. Business hasn't been what it used to be, goes the lament. The Irish who once made up most of Woodside's population have moved away, and Joe's not getting any younger. Since word got out, however, trade has been up, with loyal regulars and newbies filing in for a well-poured Guinness and the joint's celebrated burger. Several years ago, Time Out New York named it the best burger in NYC. Since then, it's rarely been left off any list of top burgers in the city. It is, indeed, a good sandwich, and a bountiful one. Its virtue—and its drawback—is that the patty is not messed with. They just broil it. Don't touch it, don't flip it, don't season it. Just cook it. The result is satisfying, but I recommend a shake or salt and pepper before you launch in.

It's a good bet that the woman serving that burger will be blonde, have a thick Irish accent and will have worked at Donovan's for anywhere from ten to 30 years. A great number of New York eating institutions have career male waiters of the old school. Donovan's is one of the few I know of that have career female waitstaff.

The best room in the capacious tavern is the main dining hall, which is found at the end of the bar and down a few steps. It's the oldest of the several rooms, and has the character to show it. There's plenty of dark wood timbers, cozy booths, a high ceiling and a fireplace. Sitting by the fire on a chill winter evening is a lovely experience. Whether Donovan's will make it to this coming winter, and see that hearth lit again, is anyone's guess.

Wooden Phone Booth Sighting: Station Cafe

I've been inside Woodside's old Station Cafe dive bar many times over the years. I don't know how I missed that they had an old wooden phone booth tucked in the back. The phone has been removed, as is the case with such booths all over town since Verizon started bringing the hammer down, charge-wise, on keeping phone booth phones. But they haven't removed the booth, thank God, or filled it with junk. Sorry about the quality of the photo. I only had my cell phone with me that night. And the Station Cafe was, as always, dark as night.

Donovan's, Classic Irish Pub of Woodside, to Close

With all due respect to Woodside, Queens, there aren't many reasons to visit this unlovely neighborhood. The Stop Inn is one. The Station Cafe dive bar is another. Top of the list is Donovan's Pub, which could easily be called the most Irish Pub-y Irish pub in the five borough, and one of the best, too. It's got a great outside. It's got a great inside, with a sunken dining room and a working fireplace. And it may have the best burger in New York.

Bad news comes from Sunnyside Post that the site of Donovan’s Pub is up for sale for $3.2 million and "its future as a business is up in the air, according to a real estate firm that is listing the property." Joe Donovan, who is in his late 70s, is selling.

According to the ad, the buyer will be acquiring the property with two retail operations–a dress shop and Donovan’s. However, as part of the terms of the sale, the pub will be left vacant.

So, is Woodside without Donovan's worth visiting? I'm not so sure.

Lost City Asks "Who Goes to El Sitio?"

I was frustrated in trying to learn the backstory of El Sitio, a longstanding Cuban restaurant in Woodside. I could not discover the name of the founder, or if the place was still in the same family, or had changed hands. Hey, it's hard detective work when everyone speaks Spanish and you don't. I suspect many writers before me had the same experience, because whenever a reporter writes up this place, all they basically do is say "great Cuban sandwich" and leave it at that. No mention of the joint's history. No quote from the owner. Anyone out there have more solid information on El Sitio? Anyone ever go there in the 1960s or 1970s?

Who Goes There? El Sitio

There aren't many Cuban food choices in New York. So whenever one of the dailies decides to do a piece on the state of Cuban food in the city, you can sure a reporter will take ride on the 7 train to this Woodside outpost under the subway tracks on dirty, dusty Roosevelt Avenue. El Sitio has been here about a half a century. It's founding dates to the 1960s, when there was a great influx of Cubans to America.

It doesn't look like the joint has changed much in that half century. The restaurant is divided into two parts. As you enter, there's a short, six-stool luncheonette counter of orange formica. Regulars tend to stop here, either to order, chat or just linger. Somewhat hilariously, there's a small, sparsely stocked bar behind the counter, in case you want a Johnnie Walker Black with your ropa vieja. If you're interested in a more formal experience, there's a no-frills, dimly lit dining room with small tables and tablecloths under plastic. The expected pictures of Havana are on the walls. And unexpected terrariums filled with sad-looking plants are fitted like windows into the wall dividing the two rooms.

The clientele here is primarily local and largely Latino. The menu is in Spanish and English, but the Spanish comes first. The version of the menu posted above the counter is only in Spanish. Most people come here for the Cubano sandwich, and it is justly famous, made with care and with wonderfully crispy bread. The flavors are fulsome, yet delicate. But I found the ham croquettes and red beans also excellent. The prices are ridiculously cheap. Those sandwiches are under five dollars.

El Sitio does a decent trade in take out. But if a customer is under the impression that he'll be in and out quickly, he's soon put straight. Making the sandwiches is a 10-15-minute process, and the woman monitoring the sandwich press, lovingly basting the bread and meats in butter, isn't going to rush it. That seems to be fine with most of the lunchers, few of whom seem to be in a hurry to get anywhere.

—Brooks of Sheffield

Station Cafe Dive Bar Loses Crummy Old, Wonderful Old Awning

The Station Cafe in Woodside, Queens—one of the greatest, rottenest dive bars in the city—has a brand new awning.

The former awning was faded, ripped, listing and brick red, like the bar's old metal facade. The new one is a stark black and white number. Not unhandsome in its way. Certainly not one of these faux-posh forest green numbers you see everywhere, thank God. But it certainly makes the Station seem less wondrously divey than it was.

One other thing. The old awning said Station Cafe on the front. A strangely quaint name for the place. Which was why the name was so great. The new awning offers the more prosaic Station Bar.

The old awning must have fallen down or something. I can't imagine the owners of the Station making the switch unless they were forced to.

A Cause in Woodside?

A reader contacted me recently, bemoaning the presumed fate of the building pictured above. It is a house at 39-38 56th Street in Woodside, Queens. And it's for sale. And according to this reader, it was recently sold by the old lady who owns it, and the new owners plan to tear it down.

My correspondent is very upset about this, and wishes she could save the structure. Why, you ask? I can understand you asking. But look beyond the awful layers of be-uglifying siding which have coated the house over the years, and recognize the innately handsome frame of the building, which is actually 110 years old. (Surprise!) And then consider how ugly Woodside is in general and how little it can afford to lose yet more of its older edifices. Look at this real estate listing and squint, and you can see the possibilities. (Ah, the porch! Ooh, the fireplaces!)

Those possibilities are not to be, of course. It will come down. I'm just pointing out the kind of hidden-in-plain-sight thing that is being lost every single day in this short-sighted town. Is there any chance—ANY chance—that the home that replaces this one will be a patch of what will be lost?

Piece of Fedders Crapitecture Ready to Go in Woodside

How do you make crapitecture even more crappy? Feddersize it!

Unexpected Quaintness in Queens

Here we have a squat little brick building on 61st Street in Woodside, Queens. Might have been a garage or warehouse in the past, but it was some time ago converted into a two apartment building. (The doors are two the side.

Not much to capture your heart here. But look more closely. On each window is a cast-iron silhouette of an old-fashioned horse and buggy. A very gentile and suburban touch. Absolutely out of place. And somewhat silly in the context. And, thus, endearing.

Can Bicycle Shops Last 70 Years

Bill's Cycle is on Roosevelt Avenue in Woodside. I've never been able to find out anything about the place, but the sign says Est. 1939. Is that possible? I know the bike biz is a tough one, with slim profits. If Bill's is really 71-years-old, I'd say that makes it the oldest bike shop in NYC. Whaddaya say, Queens people—anyone know anything about Bill's?

A Good Sign: Running Whatsit

Anyone every seen this bizarre cutout illustration on Roosevelt Avenue in Woodside? It adorns one of those cut-rate discount stores. That faceless pair of running legs, why, he's got it all! And fetched quite a bargain on those king-size greeting cards! But boy is he going to be made when he gets home and realizes he's dropped that package of automotive supplies.

Christmas Cheer of the Day

The window of the Station Cafe dive bar in Woodside, Queens.

Stop Inn in Woodside Get Boring New Sign; Reveals Better Old Sign

Stop Inn, the decades-old diner in Woodside, Queens, is getting a new awning. It's lime green, it's commonplace, it's plastic and it's boring. Even more boring than the one they had (see below). Modern awning makers among the biggest modern crapifiers in the City.


But I've got a suggestion for the Stop Inn's owners. Just dispense with the new awning altogether, and stick with the much older Stop Inn sign that's been revealed through the tearing down of the earlier awning. It's miles better and it won't cost you a dime, because it's already there! Do it. Just do it. Please?

Lost City's Guide to Woodside

Residents of Woodside, Queens, love where they live. They crow about the sense of community, the safeness, the good schools, etc. To the uninitiated, though, you have to squint a bit to see the charm. Woodside is notably lacking in green spaces or grand structures, and the housing stock is so ramshackle and just plain ugly, it could make Williamsburg look good. (Admit it: Williamsburg is homely.) But I've come to appreciate the place over the years. It is homey, and, as New York nabes go, completely without pretensions. Also, though its Irish roots show most vividly, it is a melting-pot community in the best sense. And the 7 line elevated tracks that cast its downtown in shadow give the place a distinctly old, working-class New York air.

ORANGE HUT: We're going to start way out at the northern end of Woodside, at the Northern Boulevard stop of the R and V trains, where Northern meets 54th. Here is the singular Orange Hut, one of the best breakfast-and-lunch-only diners in the city. Also one of the cheapest. It began life as a White Tower Restaurant in 1930.

PLAYBILL: Walk down 54th Street to 37th Avenue. Turn left and walk a number of blocks to 61st Street. Turn right here and you'll see a two-story, brick building with a familiar, big yellow sign on it saying "Playbill." This is where the theatrical publishers make the programs that serve Broadway and Off-Broadway shows every day.



ST. PAUL'S EPISCOPAL CHURCH: Walk along 61st to 39th Avenue. The sad, boarded-up church on the corner is St. Paul's, a Gothic Revival wooden church that was founded and built in 1874, when Woodside was little more than a kind of frontier town. It was—unbelievably—never landmarked, and suffered a terrible fire in December 2007. Its situation hasn't improved much since then. But at least it hasn't been razed.


STATION CAFE: Keep walking on 61st Street, under the LIRR tracks. Just as you reemerge into the light again on the other side, you'll see this dive to beat all dives. The squat building with red-metal siding and a perpetually drooping awning has stood its ground here for 80 or more years, making sure Woodsidians are not denied beer at 9 AM. God bless its heart.


STOP INN DINER: Pause at the corner of 61st and Roosevelt Avenue, the center of life in Woodside. Across the street is a diner with a punning name, the Stop Inn. It doesn't look like much, but most everyone in Woodside pays a call on this place once or twice a week. It's a standard diner, with fewer frills than most. But it truly grows on you. There has been an eatery at this corner since 1935, when Ray's Diner opened.


V&V BAKERY: Turn left, back into the shadows of the elevated train tracks. A few yards east is the tiny V&V Bakery, which has baked bread and treats on this site for at least 40 years. Family owned as far as I can tell.

ST. SEBASTIAN CHURCH: Turn around and walk up Roosevelt Avenue to 57th St. Here is St. Sebastian's Church, the hub of Irish-American religious life in Woodside. It's not very beautiful, but it's what they've got. The structure opened in 1952. If you turn around and look past the nearby public square, you can see the associated St. Sebastian School, which is a few decades older. It stands on the site of the old Kelly family mansion. According to Forgotten New York, "Kelly's son, John A.F. Kelly, pursued a career as a journalist and co-founded a newspaper with his sister, Maria, published out of Brooklyn. The paper was eventually bought out by the Brooklyn Times, but Kelly stayed on as a columnist. At this time Kelly was living in Brooklyn, but he wrote a column called Letters From Woodside about life at his parents' estate, which he called Woodside." And that's how the neighborhood got its ironical name. (No woods about now.)


DONOVAN'S: Directly across the street from St. Sebastian's is a sprawling, one-story, white-sided building. Donovan's is Woodside's heart, if you ask me. It's been here since the 1960s, which, by Woodside standards, makes it fantastically old. And though Woodside has many, many Irish Pubs, this is its ur-Pub. It is absolutely comfortable inside. There are many rooms, but stick to the oldest of them, straight to the back as you enter, with the fireplace. Donovan's is renowned for their burgers, so give one a try. The Shepherd's Pie is good, too.

MICHAEL SPILLANE: OK, a bit of a detour here. Turn left (south) on 54th Street to Queens Boulevard. Cross over and turn left to 59th Street, and turn right to No. 47-50. On May 13, 1977, Michael Spillane, former leader of the Westies Gang, was murdered outside this building, where he lived. Spillane had fled Hell's Kitchen for Woodside when his authority in Manhattan was brutally challenged. The move didn't save him, though.


NUNZIATO FLORIST: Get yourself back to Roosevelt, turn left and walk to No. 5128. The family-owned Nunziato has been around since 1901. The cramped, oddly shaped building, forever enveloped in darkness, is a poignant sight. City Councilman Eric Gioia is a scion of the Nunziato clan.

The Hostess With the Leastest

This Hostess thrift shop in Woodside has been closed for nearly a decade. I remember when it was open. The shelves were never very well stocked. But you could get Twinkies for very little money, if you wanted to. I never understood why Hostess put the shop in the middle of nowhere (37th Avenue and 61st Street), where no one could take advantage of the deals. I also never understood the sign on the side of the building, which says "Wednesday 'Bargin'." Why the misspelled "bargin"?

I'm no fan of Hostess treats. But I like the boldness of this relic, and the iconic signage.

Does That Mean New York Is Heaven?

One of my all-time favorite mangled New York signs. Eternal life in New York? Doesn't sound to bad.

On a lonely span of 37th Avenue in Woodside, Queens.

The Orange Hut

If I ever became a filmmaker and decided to shoot a movie in New York, one of the locations I'd exploit would be the Orange Hut in Woodside, Queens. There's something so ineffably Gothamish about this odd, squat little hamburger joint, hunkered down near the V subway station at the the corner of Broadway and Northern Blvd. It is an island of worn whimsy in a sea of ugly auto dealerships and big box stores.


It's a breakfast and lunch place only; shuts up tighter than a drum after 2 PM. Prices are rock-bottom cheap, though the plastic menu boards on the wall above the counter— patchworks of erasures and masking tape—betray the truth that costs have inched up a bit in recent years. Still, you can get a Coke, cheeseburger and fries for five bucks flat.


An L-shaped row of stools, plus some scattered stools near the window, constitute the only seating. The curvature of the windows and a string of yellow plastic signs, advertising what can be had inside, make for interesting viewing for the passerby. Of course, if the place only had that big orange block on top of the roof, it would still be worth looking at. I'm not sure why the owners settled on the color of orange. Certainly, oranges don't play a big culinary role inside.


The Orange Hut's previous life as a White Tower restaurant has been documented. I'd be curious as to whether the old White Tower signage lurks under the current orange awning. As it is, only a walk around to the white, castle-like back of the eatery provides a hint of what the place must have looked like in the old days.

Dive Bar Options for Holland Bar Refugees

Whether the Holland Bar of Hell's Kitchen is gone for good or due back next spring after renovation, its closure leaves some thirsty barflies without a dive to call their own. With than in mind, here a few stalwarts saloons that are holding firm against the onslaught of Nouveau York.

1. For Holland tipplers, this is a short walk. The Distinguished Wakamba Cocktail Lounge on located on Eighth Avenue near 37th Street. Genuinely suspect joint. Distinguished it ain't. But colorful.

2. McAnn's. Also very convenient to Holland patrons will live locally. I still marvel that this pit perseveres in a city showcase like Port Authority. Most dive bars make me smile. This one actually depresses me. I suspect some Holland regulars are here already.

3. For Queens residents, the Station Cafe shivers under Woodside's LIRR and 7 line tracks. Hardcore patrons. Nothing fancy. You are welcome to start quaffing at 9 AM.

4. Also within stumbling distance of Holland is Rudy's Bar & Grill. Free hot dogs, cheap beers and a little theatre district glamour are among the attractions. The giant pig is not your imagination; it's real.

5. Montero's in Brooklyn, on Atlantic Avenue, used to service passing sailors and seaman. Now its patrons include a fair share of hipsters. It's still has the soul of a dive, though. The old lady in the corner of the bar owns the joint.

6. The Holiday Cocktail Lounge on St. Mark's has a great jukebox, great location and lousy liquor. The atmosphere, and the ridiculously upbeat name, makes up for the latter.

7. The Mars Bar, on Second Avenue. This scarred place is one of the few East Village drinking establishments left that one would cause one to pause before entering.

8. The Subway Inn may be NYC's most glamorous dive, attracting the occasional celebrity, and located around the corner from Bloomie's. But you can't ignore the sagging ceiling, duct-taped-booths and nasty bathroom. It's a dive. Just ask for a Martini and you'll find out.

If you have your own helpful suggestions for the Hollanders, please write in.

Some Stuff That's Interesting

The Ward's Island Footbridge is the oddest and most under-appreciated bridge in NYC.

The Plaza "Hotel"'s fabled Oak Room will reopen in September.

The Orange Hut in Woodside, where I've sometimes had breakfast in the past, has an interesting history. Always thought it might.

The Keller Hotel in photos.

Richard George of the Beachside Bungalow Preservation Association of Far Rockaway scores a victory.

The future doesn't look good for the shoulda-been-landmarked-a-long-time-ago St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Woodside, Queens, which was ripped by a terrible fire the day after Christmas.

The Rev. Anandsekar Manuel, who headed a congregation that used the church, is quoted in The Daily News as saying that engineers have recommended that the 1874 wooden building be razed. He's holding out, however, waiting on an insurance estimate before making any decisions.

"We want to rebuild," he said, noting that the working-class congregation will soon begin a fund-raising drive.

Manuel and his followers see the effort to rebuild as a test.

"It is a trial for our faith," he said. "The loss brings out a certain amount of sadness and grief, but on the other hand, church is not a building."

The article says the old chapel's "walls and ceiling are the shade of coal, and the stained-glass windows are broken or burned black... The altar has been reduced to a gaping hole in the floor, surrounded by scorched scraps of wood, shards of glass and shreds of soot-stained carpet."

I suppose that, even if the church had been landmarked, the unattended altar candles that did it in still would have done their worst. But I can't help thinking that a structure officially deemed important by the City might have become the subject of greater care by the people who used it.

Oh, My Prophetic Soul!

Only a few days ago I wrote about Woodside's neglected St. Paul's Episcopal Church, crying out for someone to pay attention to the 1874 wooden structure, an un-landmarked jewel that was fast heading toward oblivion.

Well, politicians and developers won't have to lose any sleep on how they can circumvent preservationists on this one. A fire tore through the structure last night, destroying the irreplaceable stained glass window and other parts of the church. No people were harmed and the cause of the fire is under investigation. See it before (above) and after (below, courtesy of Queens Crap).



Another loss for poor respect-starved Queens. Sometimes inaction is as good as demolition when it comes to landmarks.