A Little Bit of Gino

The other day I visited Sprinkles, the high-end cupcake place at Lexington and 60th. Up until now, I hadn't had the heart to go inside, because the chain had supplanted the wonderful and irreplaceable Italian red sauce club Gino. But, more than a year having gone by, enmity died a bit and curiosity took over. I went in to see if I could spy the tiniest bit of evidence of the address' former tenant.

And indeed I could: A whole wall of Gino's crazy red, zebra wallpaper. I remember having read at the time of Gino's exit that Sprinkles planned to retain a swatch of the wallpaper, but then I subsequently read that the wallpaper left with the chef. Both reports, it turns out, were true. The chef took the original wallpaper. So Sprinkles went back to the maker of that bizarre pattern and ordered a new length of it. The Sprinkle paper is thus cleaner than Gino's ever was. One can see how the paper looks when Gino was young.

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New York Wooden Phone Booth Population Being Gutted

I've taken a fair amount of time over the years to rhapsodize about New York's dying wooden phone booth population. They're not so common anymore, but neither were they hard to find, if you knew which old bars and libraries to go into.

But recently, there's been a great falling off, mainly because so many old joints have bit the bust. The booths in Chumley's, Gino's (above), Fedora, Von Westernhagen's—all gone, because those restaurants are gone. And many of the remaining booths are being gutted, their phones removed, leaving wooden shells that have only a decorative use. Sardi's lost it's phones. The booth at Capsouto Freres doesn't work anymore. Neither does the one at Bill's Gay Nineties tavern. This is, I expect, because the wicked phone company charges businesses extra for keeping wooden phone booths in working order.

I could have bought the booth at Von Westernhagen's, but I couldn't afford it and had no vehicle with which to pick it up. Kills me to think I let it go.

"Michael of Gino's" May Become a Reality

I know it must seem, over the past week, that I report on nothing but the death of Gino. What can I say? I can't help myself. Plus, I don't think I exaggerate when I say that it's a big story. It really is. What that place has got, we ain't never gonna get back.

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Today Is Gino's Last Day on Earth

Your last chance to eat and drink among the zebras, among the red-jacketed lifer waiters, to ask a Martini of the white-jacketed, hulking, white-haired bartender, to make a call from the wooden phone booth, to smell the plastic flowers, to check your coat, to pass through the yellow double doors, to order something from the same damn menu that's been there for decades—is today.

Gino (or Gino's, as everyone calls it), Upper East Side landmark for 65 years, will shutter after tonight.

Good, But Strange: Sprinkles Cupcake Chain to Keep Gino's Zebra Wallpaper

Hard to know how to react to this.

"Sprinkles does plan to keep the zebra wallpaper in some form and certainly pay homage to Gino,” according to a rep for the California cupcake chain that will take over the home of the Upper East Side institution when it goes out of business on May 29.

Guess I should be happy. But that wallpaper only worked for a weird, set-in-its-ways, red-sauce place like Gino. I think I'd get ill staring at those jumping beasts while eating a cupcake.

Danger clause: "in some form."

Some Stuff That's Interesting

Bloomberg is doing more crazy shit with Times Square. [1010 WINS]

RKO Keith Theatre in Flushing is sold. [Crains, via Queens Crap]

Not all landlords are bad, apparently. [Curbed]

Longstanding Lincoln Center eatery O'Neals' to shutter. [Diner's Journal]

Gino's, which is to become a Sprinkles chain cupcake store, serenaded by Gay Talese one more time. [New Yorker]

A View of Gino's, Circa 1977, Via New York Magazine

Perhaps nobody has eaten at Gino, the red sauce staple on Lex, more than writer Gay Talese (above, second from left). And certainly no one has written about it more. He's penned odes to the place in the New York Times and the New Yorker and in book form. The place is due to close permanently on May 29, leaving Talese desolate, no doubt.  I thought it appropriate to reprint part of a piece Talese published. However, Talese tends to write the same things about his favorite restaurant over and over again. So I'm posting a piece by Anthony Haden-Guest (above, left) from New York magazine in 1977 (back when it was New York magazine, and not a shopping guide for the city's affluent). It has a bit more originality. Lovely intro. Read:

Saturday at Gino's 

It is 12:30 p.m. on a perfectly ordinary Saturday, and things in Gino's are proceeding in a perfectly ordinary way, which is to say with mounting turbulence. The regulars are already in place. The dapper former aide to both Hughes and Onassis is wedged between the telephone and a pair of willowy women. Two movie execs are loudly talking contract. Beefy men in early middle age are talking about hangovers and stock options, and there is a tossing spume up front as a quartet of fashionable ladies tense to grab an about-to-be-vacated table. And a glum blonde is sitting at the bar, over a margarita.

Gino is standing where the bar ends and the tables begin. Gino is Gino Circiello, the most noticeable of the three partners in this restaurant, the one from whom it derives its name. He is wearing a pin-striped suit of exceeding sobriety and a silk tie stiff enough to slice veal piccata. He is also wearing his habitual expression, a mingling of alertness and great caution.

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This Week on Lost City

I Remember Gino's, Again, and Again; Pozzo Pastry Shop Still Mourned By Faithful; Court House Square Subway Entrance Now Less Annoying; Construction at Joe's Perette; Mars Bars Gets a New Paint Job; Bike Shops Can Last 70 Years; No Carroll Gardens Basil War This Summer.

Gino, The Man in Full

Upper East Side standby, Gino, which will close for good on May 29, was named after its founder Gino A. Circiello, who died in 2001. Here is the New York Times obituary that ran on Dec. 5 of that year:

Gino A. Circiello, a restaurateur who shunned credit cards, reservations and advertising but built a Manhattan institution on the strength of homey Italian cooking and 314 exuberantly leaping zebras on tomato-red wallpaper, died on Friday at his home in Manhattan. He was 89.

Gino, his restaurant at 780 Lexington Avenue, nearly across from Bloomingdale's, epitomized the New York of the time when men still wore hats and a plate of spaghetti went for 95 cents. It was where Ed Sullivan ordered the same chicken dish every day and then spread out his papers on a table to work through the afternoon. Each Mother's Day, Frank Sinatra brought a dozen people to the big table in the back. Manicurists, opera stars and the odd mobster added spice to the sauce.

Mr. Circiello, with his hair slicked back like George Raft's and an elegant suit draped over his slender frame, stood at the front, using his rasping voice to greet everyone like a treasured relative.

''He belonged to a world that doesn't exist anymore,'' his wife, Nini, said.

Gay Talese, the writer, who has been a regular customer since 1955, called Gino a time capsule.

The Zagat Survey for 2002 said the restaurant was ''frozen in the 40's,'' but had ''the best tomato sauce in town.''

It still has an old-fashioned phone booth with a folding door; when it was removed after a fire in 1973, customers demanded its return. In place of credit cards, the management still runs a tab for regulars and mails a bill at the end of the month. The flowers, all artificial, are changed as often as three times a year, pretty much with the seasons.

Clearly, less than flattering reviews of the cuisine have been less than lethal. The reason, says Mario Laviano, one of three employees who bought the restaurant from Mr. Circiello in 1985, is simple: ''It's not a restaurant, it's like a club.''

For example, in 1974, John Canaday began a review of Gino in The New York Times with a long paragraph arguing that food is secondary to experience in New York restaurants. That said, he wrote, ''If I could pick a single one as the quintessential New York restaurant, it would have to be Gino's.'' (He said everyone called it Gino's.)

The zebras are a huge part of the attraction. Mr. Circiello was a hunter without the means to pay for an African safari, but he reasoned that he could at least afford zebras on his wallpaper. So he commissioned a friend to design wallpaper depicting leaping zebras pursued by arrows.

''This makes no sense that I can figure out,'' Mr. Canaday wrote.

In truth, it made less sense than he might have realized. The designer's initial picture of two zebras omitted a stripe near the tail of one of the two creatures. Before Mr. Circiello noticed this, half of the 314 zebras were missing a stripe. But the paper had been glued to the wall.

None of the customers in the first-night crowd noticed, nor did the crowds that followed in the next few weeks. Or at least they said nothing to him or his staff. He decided to keep the paper as it was.

Twice in the last 50 years, the wallpaper had to be replaced. Each time Mr. Circiello decided to keep the nonuniform zebras; people might miss them.

Gino Augusto Circiello was born in Buenos Aires on Jan. 20, 1912. His Italian father worked as a chef in a hotel there. While the family was on a trip to their home on the island of Capri, World War I started, and they could not return.

The young Gino developed a working knowledge of Italian, French, German and English. He apprenticed as a waiter in luxury hotels in Venice and elsewhere in southern Europe. At 17, he sailed for New York, arriving in October 1929 just as the stock market collapsed.

Throughout the Depression, he worked as a busboy, a room waiter and an assistant bartender in New York, Philadelphia, Atlantic City and Palm Beach. While working as a bartender at the Waldorf-Astoria, he began to dream of opening a restaurant on Lexington Avenue.

Two of his friends, Guy Avventuriero and Emilio Torre, liked the idea, and the three used their joint savings to open the restaurant. The rent was $400 a month (it is now $21,000), and Mr. Circiello bought a mahogany bar secondhand on the Bowery. It is still there. So are the 27 original wood-topped tables.

Mr. Circiello's partners retired in 1980. He stayed on till 1985, when he sold the restaurant to the three current partners. In addition to his wife, Mr. Circiello is survived by a brother, Augusto, of Manhattan; and two sisters, Yolanda Gentile of Capri and Raffaella Musumeci of Catania, Sicily.

When he returned to the restaurant after his retirement, diners sometimes erupted in spontaneous applause. At home, one of his rugs was a zebra skin from an animal he had shot himself.

Last Day at Gino Is May 29

From City Room:

This time, Gino’s means it.

On April 17, City Room published a post saying that this East Side restaurant, once a stop for the likes of Ed Sullivan and Frank Sinatra on the see-and-be-seen circuit, might close on May 15. That was based on what the owners had told a meeting with the union that represents the staff.

May 15 came and went, and Gino’s is still open. It signature zebras are still frolicking on the darker-than-royal-red wallpaper.

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Noooooooooooooo!

I've gotten so used to Gino crying wolf so often over the past year that I feel into a false sense of security that the Lexington Avenue standby would never actually close, would always remain open. No so. The heartbreaker from Eater:

Over the past year, stories have surfaced again and again regarding the trouble at Gino, the 65 year-old Upper East Side Italian joint with the oh so famous zebra wall paper. Last February, the owner complained of terrible business. Then it was almostkilled by the union. Then it sat in limbo. Then it was shuttering again. Then it was almost saved. Today comes this from the Post: "Gino is sadly finito. The legendary Upper East Side red-sauce joint is closing its kitchen after 65 years." A call confirms they will close at the end of the month.

What will become of the wallpaper?! What will become of the wooden phone booth? All those old waiters? What will become of New York when the last landmark falls?

Here's all my past coverage of Gino, including a "Who Goes There?" column. There's a lot of it. Gino will actually be the very first of my "Who Goes There?" restaurants to vanish. I never would have believed it.

Hey, Keith McNally! Here's a New York landmark that needs saving. You did it with Minetta Tavern. How about another go? (Graydon Carter, stay away. I want to save Gino, not sully it.)

I goes without saying that I'll be dining at Gino's at least one more time before the zebras gallop off into Manhattan's ongoing sunset.

Gino Outlook "Looks Good"

Let's check in with the soap opera that it Gino's Restaurant.

Last we heard from the Lexington Avenue stalwart, it had gotten a stay of execution from Dec. 31 to Jan. 31. Good news. So I called today to see if tomorrow would be their last in business after 64 years. Were they open tomorrow? Yes. And after that? After that, indefinitely. So all that union mishegoss was worked out? "We're still talking, but it looks good."

Now, the guy on the phone could have been saying to make sure customers still come in, but still. Not bad news.

Some Stuff That's Interesting

The Lower East Side's Doughnut Plant will open shop in the old Dan's Chelsea Guitars space in the historic Chelsea Hotel. [Eater]

Sad: Frank's Deli, 32 years on Ninth Avenue, has closed for good. [JVNY]

Could be sadder: JVNY went to Gino's and found the staff less than defeated.

Ken Friedman may open a bar in his Ace Hotel with a Tin Pan Alley theme. Hey, it's not Tin Pan Alley, but at least that chapter in New York cultural history is being acknowledged by someone. [Eater]

Village preservationists are riled up over the huge new billboards the Equinox gym put up around its building at Greenwich Avenue and 12th Street. And why not? They're horrible. [Curbed]

Lower Second Avenue then and now. [Dino's NYC Then and Now]

Architakes searches The Iron Triangle for Wilson's Garage from "The Great Gatsby"

What's Up With Gino?

OK, so Gino's isn't closing on Dec. 31, as previously reported.

On Dec. 26, I picked up a report from Eater, which picked it up from the NY Post, that the age-old, red sauce joint on Lexington—which has been suffering from union and recession woes—would shutter on New Year's Eve. So I called to make a reservation for tomorrow. Only the lady who answered said they weren't closing tomorrow, Dec. 31. Just closing early. Then they would be open again on Jan. 1.

Huh? But the Post reported they would fold on Dec. 31. No, said the lady: Jan. 31. So I hung up and checked the Post article. Indeed it said Jan. 31. But I remember looking at that article, and it said Dec. 31. And Eater's pick-up article still says Dec. 31. Did the Post make an error? Did they correct it online without making a note of it at the bottom of the article?

Anyway, I'm glad Gino's is still open for another month.

Gino's to Close on Dec. 31

Say goodbye to this familiar yellow door.

Eater reports that the New York Post reports that the 64 year-old Upper East Side restaurant Gino's will close on Dec. 31. The word came from a union rep. The restaurant has been grappling with its union over a new contract for some time.

Reports surfaced this month that the troubled Gino would be saved as a white-knight buyer rode in to scoop up the joint, famous for its zebra wallpaper and old-school dishes like veal parmigiana and chicken cacciatore.

But Dell'Aguzzo told The Post this week a buyer has not materialized and that the Lexington Avenue eatery will not survive.
Co-owner Salvatore Doria told The Post he couldn't talk about details of the restaurant's problems.

"In a few weeks, we'll know exactly what's the story," he said. "The place is known worldwide. It's a piece of Manhattan. The problem is the economy."

Dell'Aguzzo believes the owners of Gino floated the notion of a buyer so workers would stay on for one last Christmas season before the inevitable closing.

The union and management have been fighting since October, when the workers' contract expired and they balked at a request to pay half their health insurance and pension in a new pact.

Dell'Aguzzo said he was told that because of the economy, the owners wanted to sell but couldn't because of the labor contract.

News that the restaurant is on its deathbed left longtime patrons distraught.

"There's a general sadness and disbelief; it's a great tragedy," said Allen Falcona, 77, a patron since 1957.
"It will have a huge effect upon a lot of customers, who come daily and sometimes twice a day."

I'm glad I took the time to have lunch there last week. Perhaps I will return before Thursday. I can't say. This is hard to take, and hard to believe. Is there any business in New York that New Yorkers truly care enough about to fight for? Or are we all just too defeated at this point.

Gino's Still on Tenterhooks

I had lunch at Gino's restaurant today. Figured I oughta while I have the chance, because who knowsif it will be around after New Year's.

Attendance was sparse. A few full tables. A lady in an enormous, donut-shaped fur hat that everyone kept complimenting out of politeness. Two tables talked about how they used to go to Gino's all the time. At the bar, old men, evidently well familiar with each other, drank wine and talk volubly in Italian, occasionally breaking in Italian song. Seemed like a small family reunion. The maitre d' perched halfway on a stool gazing affectionately/dolefully out at the diners.

I asked my waiter if the white knight talked about in the press had decided to buy and save the place yet. "We don't know," he said. "The knight, his carriage, it is stuck." The hat check woman said roughly the same thing: no news. Hm. In the Times article, it said owner Michael Miele would know "everything" by Dec. 18. Jesus. Wait to the last minute, why not?

FYI, my veal cutlet parmigiana was very good.

Heartbreaker: Diamond Dairy Has Shuttered for Good

It doesn't pay to post your "Bring Out Your Dead" lost landmarks early.

I tally up the new members in the New York Cultural Heritage Graveyard on Thursday, and what happens? Oldtimers drop dead on Friday. Earlier today, we learned that Upper East Side red sauce joint Gino's may close by year's end. Now Midtown Lunch informs us that Diamond District hidden gem, the Diamond Dairy luncheonette, has gone the way of Luchow's.

If you didn't know about Diamond Dairy, you just didn't know about it. It was on the mezzanine level, in the back of a jewelry exhange on 47th Street between Sixth and Fifth Avenues. There used to be a sign indicating its presence on the front door of the exchange, but not in recent years. To get to the narrow diner, you had to enter through the eastern doors of the exchange, walk past several diamond dealers, go up a flight of stairs that snaked up the left wall and turn to the right. There was a zigzagging counter with stools to the left of the room as you walked in and some small tables along the right. Nothing fancy, just classic. You could see the diners from the buying floor if you cared to look up and through a low glass wall. The waitresses were old and matronly and grumpy. Dishes like baked beans and potato pancakes and tuna salad sandwiches were served on super small paper plates.

I loved this place. I loved being in the know, aware that it existed and where it was. I loved the New Yorky feel you got just sitting there over your chicken soup. Prices were cheap, the food was homey. I was there on one classic occasion when Jackie Mason strolled in and regaled the entire place. Sixty years in business this place was.

But here's the bitter irony that will haunt me for years to come. I was there, just ten days ago. Just by chance, I turned down 47th Street and passed the exchange. I recalled the diner, looked at my watch, saw it was 3 PM, and thought "Why Not?" Late lunch! I went in, skipped up the stairs, but the place was empty. The lunch rush had just finished and the waitress was wiping down the counter. I was too late. "Oh well," I thought, "I'll have lunch another day." I took the above picture and left. (I'll wager it's the last picture of the place taken by a blogger.)

If only I had passed by a half hour earlier.

Egad! New Owner for Gino's?!

I have added Gino's to the "Endangered" list in my "Bring Out Your Dead" tally.

From City Room:

Potential Buyer Is Found for Gino

By ANDREW KEH

For more than 60 years, regulars have gone to Gino, an old fashioned red-sauce joint on the Upper East Side, for veal parmigiana, chicken cacciatore, and zebras.

The veal and chicken are reliable staples on a menu that has not changed much since the restaurant opened in 1945; the famous zebras appear on the wallpaper of a dining room that has over the years accommodated its share of celebrity clientele — Ed Sullivan and Frank Sinatra are said to have been regulars — and even made a celebrity cameo itself in the opening scene of Woody Allen’s 1995 film “Mighty Aphrodite.”

But Gino could be in danger of closing, employees said this week, because the restaurant’s owners and unionized workers have failed to reach an agreement on a new contract.

The restaurant’s only lifeline now appears to be a potential buyer who was unexpectedly revealed by the current owners in a Thursday morning meeting that workers originally thought would signal the start of closing proceedings.

The workers’ last contract expired Oct. 31. Since then, the two sides have met six times to try to negotiate a new agreement, said Marco Dell’Aguzzo, the shop steward, who has worked as a waiter at Gino for 24 years.

As late as Wednesday night, employees of Gino seemed resigned to the fact that the restaurant would close by the end of this month. Earlier in the week, they rejected a final proposal from Michael Miele, one of the restaurant’s owners. But in the meeting Thursday morning, Mr. Miele surprised everyone when he revealed that he had found a potential buyer for the restaurant, Mr. Dell’Aguzzo said.

Mr. Miele is supposed to meet with the potential buyer next Wednesday. Mr. Miele will then meet with Mr. Dell’Aguzzo and a union representative on Friday to reassess the situation.

Mr. Miele did not respond to messages left at the restaurant Thursday afternoon, and Mr. Dell’aguzzo declined to provide specifics of the negotiations or details of the potential buyer until after the meeting next week.

“Until we have all the facts, everything is in the air,” Mr. Dell’Aguzzo said in a phone interview Thursday night. “On Friday, we’ll know everything.”

In February, Mr. Miele told Diner’s Journal that the restaurant’s profits had gone down by as much as 70 percent in the last couple of years.

“If business stays like this, if it doesn’t pick up we can’t afford to stay open, we’re losing money,” Mr. Miele said at the time.

The restaurant does maintain a loyal following.

In 2006, Frank Bruni wrote for The New York Times that part of Gino’s draw was its “sense of timelessness.” For many of its regulars, he wrote, “Gino is their home away from home.”

But the celebrities are gone, as is some of the place’s old luster.

And though the fate of Gino will be much clearer next week, the veal and the chicken and the zebras may soon be gone as well.

What's with suicidal restaurant unions this year?

Bring Out Your Dead! 2009 Roundup of Lost New York Landmarks

The shedding of Gothamite landmarks slowed a bit in 2009, as compared to previous years under the all-powerful Bloomberg-Burden-DOB Developmental Complex, but that was mainly because all the builders took a big sock to the kisser from the recession. Had they had the wherewithal and the Wall Street clients, developers would have happily planted thrice as many office towers and condo complexes and landlords would have kicked many more mom-and-pops to the curb.

Still, there was bloodletting enough for all in this sad burg that's so resigned and lazy that it endorsed land-grabber-empowering power-monger Mayor Mike to another, ill-gotten term on the throne. Here are the never-to-be-seen-again, New York City one-of-a-kinds on which, since Jan. 1, 2009, cruel fate has rung down the final curtain. (For previous annual Bring Out Your Dead tallies, check here for 2008, here for 2007 and here for 2006.):



Gone, Baby, Gone

Diamond Dairy, a Diamond District kosher luncheonette on the second floor at the back of a diamond exchange. One of a kind and utterly irreplaceable, gone after sixty years in business.
The Pink Tea Cup, a 55 year-old soul food staple in Greenwich Village, run by several generations of the Raye family, announced it would shutter for good on Jan. 1, 2010.
Armando Tailor, a vestige of old Italian Carroll Gardens on Smith Street, closed after Armando Nardi retired, taking with him decades of old-world skill.
Tavern on the Green (as it was). The City rejected the LeRoy family's bid to retain control of the famed restaurant, leading to a bankruptcy filing, legal warring with City Hall over the rights to the name, and a coming fire sale of the joint's many sparkly decorations. Goodbye, Crystal Room. My mother will miss you.
Cafe Des Artistes. Another bankruptcy case, George Lang, owner since 1976 of the posh UWS favorite with the wonderful murals, walked away in a litter of labor lawsuits. The Howard Chandler Christy murals belong to the Hotel des Artistes. No one's jumping on the lease so far.



Jay Dee Bakery, Forest Hills fixture for 60 years.
Joe Jr. Restaurant, a beloved Greenwich Village greasy spoon served its last July 4, after 45 years in business.


Joseph Patelson Music House ended 89 years of selling sheet music on June 7.
Manny's, mecca for generations of musicians, favorite store of hundreds of legends from The Beatles to B.B. King, the great store of midtown's Music Row, was mothballed by owner Sam Ash, who turned the storefront into—what else?—another Sam Ash. This was perhaps the greatest loss of the year, in my opinion.


Arnold Hatters, one of my favorite stores in the City, and one of the only real hatters left in New York, finally gave up the ghost, the Rubin family never having survived having been bumped from their previous Eighth Avenue home by the New York Times tower. 83 years the place was in the business of dispensing lids and skimmers.
Amato Opera, a musical beautifier of the Bowery, closed after 61 years.
Trunzo Brothers Meat Market and Salumeria, in Bensonhurst, now a 99-cent store, dunzo after 33 years.
Giambelli, a 50-year-old Italian restaurant in midtown, done in by the MTA, which needs to build a ventilation plant where the eatery stood, to serve the new Long Island Rail Road connection to Grand Central Terminal.
Frank's Fish Market, in Washington Heights.
The "21" Club's Tie Requirement. The venerable old restaurant, one of the last in town to insist on proper neckwear, knuckled under to the slothful anti-demands of the Great Underdressed.


Endangered Landmarks

The Eagle Theater, a classic old showcase of Indian films in Jackson Heights, closed in May. I suppose there's a chance it may reopen, but a slim one. The nearby Jackson Heights Triplex, in business since 1924, closed a few months later.
Gino's, which may become the victim on an ongoing union dispute.
48th Street's Music Row, the eternal strip of music stores on W. 48th between Seventh and Eighth Avenues, which the Sam Ash people don't think is long for this world.
H&H Bagels, the owner of which UPW legend keeps allegedly breaking the law, not paying his taxes, and pissing off the Feds.
Monte's Venetian Room, possibly the oldest Italian restaurant in Brooklyn, which closed under mysterious circumstances in fall 2008 and hasn't reopened yet, but hasn't been gutted either.
Nathan's Famous, the Coney Island icon, which is not landmarked, and, under the City's moronic new zoning of the area, could be replaced by a a hotel tower of up to 20 stories.
O'Toole Building, dirt under St. Vincent's feet if the Greenwich Village monster hospital gets it way.
The Brooklyn-side view of the Brooklyn Bridge, thanks to a 17-story DUMBO tower planned by the Walentases of Two Trees, and approved by City Planning debutante Amanda Burden, despite the disapproval of almost everybody without a motive.



And These Were Landmarked or Saved

Totonno's, iconic Coney Island pizzeria, which will finally reopen in December after suffering a fire in March.
Nom Wah Tea Parlor, the oldest dim sum joint in Chinatown, which was closed down twice by the DOH, but managed to reopen.
The former B.F. Goodrich building at 1780 Broadway, but not its sister building around the corner, 225 West 57th Street—Thanks, meddling City Council!
Paramount Hotel
La MaMa E.T.C.
Herman A. and Malvina Schleicher House
Ridgewood Heights North Historic District in Queens
St. George's Syrian Catholic Church
Prospect Heights Historic District
Fort Washington Presbyterian Church
The Bronx's NYPL Woodstock Branch and Hunts Point Branch
New York Botanical Garden's Museum Building
(Plus many more Landmarks Commission designations, but those were the highlights for me. The commission was fairly busy during the last half of the years, perhaps in reaction to having been taken to the woodshed late last year by the New York Times, which ran a series of unflattering articles.)

Saved But Left Town

Cheyenne Diner, which closed in midtown, and hoped to reopen in Red Hook, but ended up in....Alabama.

Saved But Altered

Theatre 80, former playhouse, former movie house, in the East Village, now still a theatre, but with a cafe.


Saved But Humiliated

The landmarked interior of the old Gage & Tollner on Fulton Street, now an Arby's franchise.



Resurrections

Vesuvio Bakery, the landmark, luckless SoHo bakery, which was bought and reopened by the City Bakery folks.
Holland Bar, Hell's Kitchen dive of dive, offered a new lease by the same landlord that kicked the decades-old bar out last year. Downside: the walls have been scrubbed clean of character.
Armando's, aged Brooklyn Heights restaurant and Dodgers haunt, found the courage to reopen on Montague Street, with a new interior and, better still, the same old neon lobster sign.
P&G Cafe, which was forced out of its longtime space at the corner of Amsterdam and 73rd, but found a new home (sans excellent neon sign, sadly) at 78th and Columbus.
Vermont Farmacy, weird Carroll Gardens relic pharmacy being rescued by new lease-holders, who hope to open an old time soda fountain.
Elk Candy Company, former Yorkville bastion of marzipan greatness, reopened as Internet company upstate.
Paris Shoe Store, which left its lovely, longtime Greenpoint home to move down the street a bit, to an unlovelier space.
Henry Miller's Theatre, gutted, aside from the landmarked 43rd Street facade, but given a new theatrical life. And the great old sign was saved.

Two Landmarks Breathe Free

For the longest time, the view of Le Veau d'Or and Gino's, two Upper East Side landmarks, has been obscured by a tangle of unsightly scaffolding which doubtless hurt their business.

But no more. At some point in the recent past the scaffolding came down. Now a blogger can take a clear, unadulterated photo of both old restaurants. It's particularly a treat to see Gino's yellow-and-green sign in all its glorious garishness. Jump, Zebras, jump! Be free!