The Worm Certainly Has Turned

Not only the New York Times, but the New York Post has turned against the former media darling Mayor Bloomberg. In a startling cover story today, the Post's Frederic U. Dicker reports that Gov. David Paterson broadly criticized the Mayor in private as "a nasty, untrustworthy, tan trum-prone liar who 'has little use' for average New Yorkers - like the 1,500 workers who would have lost their jobs had OTB closed.

Paterson has quickly turned into Bloomberg's worst nightmare, opposing Mike on matters such as the fate of Penn Station. Unlike Spitzer—a hotheaded rich guy, just like our Mayor—Paterson sees Bloomberg for what he is. If this renewed vigilance on the press' part keeps up, perhaps we can save the state from a Bloomberg governorship or save the country from a Bloomberg Vice-Presidency.

Here are some hightlights:

"His presidential thing didn't work out, term limits is looming to force him out, he's waiting and waiting to be asked to be vice president, congestion pricing didn't happen, he lost teacher tenure, the Jets stadium, and OTB isn't going the way he wants it." ...

"It's obvious that Bloomberg has little use for the kind of people who come from Queens and Staten Island, so how is he going to approach the people of Oswego and Lewis counties and Buffalo?" he asked.

"The people of New York City may be OK with the mayor taking off and flying to his private home in Bermuda every weekend, but if he did that at the state level, I think the people would send him a different message." ...

He told friends he believes Bloomberg, a billionaire, isn't getting honest advice from his staff "because they're all afraid of him and his wealth."

And he said council members have repeatedly refused to stand up to the mayor because "he's bought most of them off."

Unsurprisingly, Paterson has told reporters he didn't say those thing. Unsurprisingly, he's not going to ask for a retraction, for very convoluted reasons that I don't quite understand.

Small and Proud

I find this building at 203 W. 82nd Street in Manhattan an intriguing curiosity. It was evidently erected in 1899, and with great pride, if the vainglorious, quasi-cupola at the top is any indication. And it has somehow survived 100-plus years in a highly desirable neighborhood to currently house Fang Cleaners and an antique shop. I'm guessing is was a carriage house, owing to its squat nature. Can't find out much about it, except that, according to the DOB, there was a request for a electrical sign back in 1930. So some sort of change was going on. It's also apparently part of a landmark district, which may explain its longevity.

New Hope for P & G Cafe

I was soaking up some beer and some old-New-York, late-night atmosphere at the doomed Upper West Side water hole known as the P & G Cafe the other night when I heard some hopeful news regarding the place. As has been reported here and elsewhere, P & G's landlord has been hounding the 66-year-old tavern for a couple years news, and has set its get-out day for New Year's Eve, 2008. Anyone who visits the place knows that the clock is ticking on one of Manhattan's last great regular-bar bars.

But, as I gathered from the talk flying between myself, a couple regulars at the bar, and proprietor Steve Chahalis—a friendly bear of a man who has the build of a Hell's Angel and a taste in headbanger music to match—there is reason to hope. Steve was holding court behind the bar. No, the landlord hasn't changed his mind. In fact, it looks like a Baby Gap has emerged as the highest bidder on the corner space. But Steve is sanguine that P & G will rise again in another locality nearby.

He has been scouting out a variety of spaces and feels confident his family's bar will have a new home by years' end, with the old wooden bar and possibly the great neon sign going with him. Things have changed since the real estate market's gone soft and landlords are more willing to entertain Chahalis' queries. There was even talk of a long range plan to buy a building. Things appear to be so in P & G's favor that Chahalis is taking his time, waiting until he finds the right space with everything he's looking for (including an oval bar to replace the current one-sided item).

Needless to say, this all made me very happy—for Chahalis, for his dedicated patrons, for the City as a whole, for me. I will be crossing my finger for P & G until the end of the year.

45th Street's Mini-Restaurant Row Finally Coming Down?

It's been more than two years since the tiny, humble restaurants along the north side of W. 45th Street between Broadway and Eighth began folding one by one. Barrymore's, BAM! Sam's, BAM! Puleo's, BAM! And then they just sat there, boarded up, among the din of rumors that they had died that a coming hotel tower might live.

There were signs today that the low-slung building may soon finally bite the dust. The door to Barrymore's was open for the first time since the restaurant shuttered (see above). There were also openings in the shedding leading to the stoops of a couple of the buildings, with rat poison signs pasted on the doors of each—a sure sign of the coming end of a building. There were spray-painted squares on the buildings that I hadn't notice before. A few construction typed milled about, talking on cellphones and eating lunch.

An application to demolish Barrymore's was filed with the DOB back on Feb. 29. Ditto the other structures. Meanwhile, the nearby old-school steakhouse Frankie and Johnny's continues to mysteriously do business, having escaped the ax somehow.

That's Weird

A trash can with an attached ashtray. Outside the White Castle on Eighth Avenue near 36th. Don't think I've ever seen that particular design before. Seems like an invitation to a trash fire.

Also, Trader Joe's Wants Us Off Their Land!

Recently, I noticed that the upcoming Trader's Joe's in Brooklyn made it clear that it didn't want prols like me peeking in its old bank building while it worked on transforming the edifice into a cheery, hip grocery store. It did this by papering over the glass doorways. It has since emphasized its point by replacing the paper with plywood.

But there's more. The old Independence Bank has, as many will recall, three steps leading up to the front doors and ramps on the left and the right. These have now been cordoned off with yellow tape. So Trader Joe's doesn't want us to even to come near them! I considered for a moment that this development may be due to the fact that Brooklyn is awash with construction-obsessed citizens armed with cameras and too much curiosity. But I quickly dismissed the notion as absurd.

Stay tuned for a giant black box to be placed over the entire structure.

It's About Time

Robert M. Scarano, the opportunistic, scofflaw, robber baron who likes to masquerade under the lofty title architect, the bane of many New Yorker's existence, has finally been charged with something.

Reports City Room:

Administrative charges have been filed against Robert M. Scarano Jr., an architect who built his career during Brooklyn’s construction boom, saying that he made false or misleading statements on applications submitted to the Department of Buildings in connection with two projects in Greenpoint, the authorities announced on Thursday.

The administrative charges, which could result in the suspension or revocation of Mr. Scarano’s ability to file documents with the buildings department, involve documents for two Brooklyn apartment houses that Mr. Scarano filed with the department in 2000 and 2002. The building department and the city’s Investigation Department said in a joint statement:

Scarano is alleged to have improperly divided a zoning lot into two smaller lots for the two new buildings, 158 Freeman Street and 1037 Manhattan Avenue, resulting in the construction of two noncompliant buildings. With the two independent zoning lots, 158 Freeman Street could not have been legally built at all as a residential building and 1037 Manhattan Avenue as designed would have been smaller by approximately 2,000 square feet.

Scarano is being charged under a new state law which allows the buildings commissioner "to exclude licensed architects from filing applications for permits if they are found to have knowingly or negligently submitted false documents. Mr. Scarano may respond to the charges and present a defense to an administrative law judge at the Office of Administrative Tribunals and Hearings."

Yo! Check This Out! IKEA Rules!

Aside from the Swedish meatballs they serve in the cafeteria—a dish I dearly love—I'm not much looking forward to the coming debut of the Red Hook IKEA. And their bus shelter ads aren't helping my mood.

These assaults of amateur whismy may have been up for weeks, but this is the first I've noticed them. They're composed of unfolded IKEA cardboard boxes against a background of yellow. Written on the boxes are various colloquial, would-be-hip narratives. I guess the idea must have been a kind of ironical deconstruction of an IKEA ad that would certainly wow Brooklyn hipsters. Instead, they only confirm that advertising firms tend to employ the sort of wit that wouldn't earn a place on the staff of a college satirical magazine.

One ad on Columbia Street invites us to be awe-struck by the "corrugated awesomeness" of the box. It actually begins with exclamation "Yo! Check this out." And it ends with "Boxes rule!" ("That's how kids talk today. right?" asks the middle-aged Swedish furniture executive.)

Another ad, down by Fairway, wonders if the box on display was acquired by "one of those Mole People who live in the subway." (Hey! They've heard of the subway! Why, those Swedes really understand us New Yorkers after all.) "Troglodytes need furniture, too," it continues." Oy. Not that giant corporations can ever be cool, but how un-cool can you get?

Elegy for Costa del Sol

Lost City readers may recall that, when I did my recent "Who Goes There?" feature about Chez Napoleon for Eater, I had originally intended to dine at the French bistro's next door neighbor, Costa del Sol, but it found it closed for good.

An attentive reader, and Costa del Sol fan, recently wrote to let me know what I missed:

Brooks, I'm SO sorry you missed Costa del Sol. The bar was so quiet and un-hip, that we could talk office gossip all night and never be overheard by anyone in publishing. The dining room was always filled until 7:45 with a pre-theater old-timers crowd. Husbands and wives, old-school surf-and-turfers. Once in a while, an old woman would come in off the street, bang out a tune on the dusty piano, have a little libation and be on her way! My friends and I went for the good sangria, salty meats tapas plates, delicious Tortilla España and friendly barkeep Alfonso, who we hope landed on his feet somewhere nice.

Sounds like a grand joint. According to the commenter, Costa was the victim of a rent increase it couldn't afford. So it goes.

More Sad Pictures of Chumley's

Eater today displays the latest pictorial evidence that Chumley's will not be taking any summertime trade. Sigh. I recognized that brick arch well. I passed under it many a time. Ah well. At least they're trying.