Lost City: New Orleans Edition: Some Good Signs

An abandoned antique store that was apparently a costume rental store in a previous lifetime.


A famous restaurant in the French Quarter.


An enchantingly grungy old eatery just behind the Hotel Monteleone. They spell it out for you: Gumbo Red Beans Rice Hot Sandwiches. It's what you want.


An otherwise cheerless building at the corner of Canal and St. Charles is enlivened by the one-story-tall, carved-out name of Gus Meyer. Meyer's was once a mini-chain of department stores with locations across the south. This building was the original outlet. The remained two are in Birmingham and Nashville.


Well known for its Po' Boys. Lines down the block.


A hotel felled by Katrina. Ain't gonna open anything soon. But the sign survived and is glorious.


Got this in the dark in the Carrollton neighborhood. Still worth it.

A Good Sign: New Orleans Edition: Walgreen's

Only in New Orleans could a Walgreen's look this grand. On Canal Street.

This more modest, but no less appealing, sign is on Royal Street in the French Quarter.

Waiting to Fall Down

I've kvetched in the past that there is a more insidious way New York landlords and developers are getting rid of old building than simply knocking them down. It's called neglect. They just leave a landmarked or classic structure unattended and unloved and wait for age and gravity to do the work a wrecking ball otherwise might.

AMNY does a public service by pointing this out today and posts it's top ten list of buildings dying from neglect. Here they are.

WINDERMERE
400-06 W. 57th St., Manhattan
A judge ruled in May that the owners of one of Manhattan's oldest apartment complexes must bring the 127-year-old landmark into good repair.

EMPIRE STORES
53-83 Water St., Brooklyn
Workers are stabilizing the vacant Civil War-era warehouses' arched windows and repairing a large crack on the building's northwest corner. There are currently no plans for the state-owned buildings, which overlook the waterfront Empire- Fulton Ferry Park.

CORN EXCHANGE BANK BUILDING
81-85 East 125th St., Manhattan
Promises in 1999 to restore the Harlem hulk, built in the 1880s, and convert it to a cooking school have not been delivered. The Landmarks Preservation Commission has referred the case to the city's law department.

100 CLARK STREET
Brooklyn
Fearing the apartment complex, in the Brooklyn Heights historic district, could collapse, the city in May evacuated tenants and removed the top two floors from the five-story building. The owner has submitted a plan to the Landmarks Preservation Commission to stabilize the 1850s building.

RKO KEITH'S THEATER
135-29 Northern Blvd., Queens
Only the lobby of the former movie palace in Flushing is a designated landmark. Its current owner planned to convert the site into a 16-story residential and commercial tower, with plans to restore the foyer, but has since put the 80-year-old building up for sale.

BEDELL HOUSE
7484 Amboy Road, Staten Island
A developer's 2005 plans to demolish the crumbling building and replace it with townhouses were foiled when the city later designated the 1869 structure a landmark. The developer filed a lawsuit against the city in March.

JOHN ROHR HOUSES
502-506 Canal St., Manhattan
The red brick buildings have stood since 1826 and feature one of Manhattan's oldest storefronts. Today, they are vacant and covered in graffiti. Wooden windowsills are eroding, and plywood covers the window openings.

67 GREENWICH ST.
Manhattan
The New York Landmarks Conservancy describes the 1811 structure as "the most endangered Federal-era building in lower Manhattan." In May, Syms department store bought the site, but says it is only trying to protect its adjacent flagship store from "encroachment" and has no plans to develop 67 Greenwich St.

43 MACDOUGAL ST.
Manhattan
The 1846 building is rumored to be a former mob hangout. Preservationists fear the vacant Greenwich Village site is falling into dangerous levels of neglect and are pushing the city to step in.

614 COURTLANDT AVE.
Bronx
A former 1870s saloon and meeting hall, the vacant three-story Melrose building has no windows, exposing it to rain and snow.

Of course, there are many more. The Landmarks Commission can no longer just designate landmarks. It has to enforce their upkeep and preservation. City Hall should give this office its own police force. Love to see some derelict landlords get it with a billy club.

Lost City: Wisconsin Edition: Showers and Air-Conditioning

Never did find out the name of this motel—which certainly does look like a hotel to me—in Algoma, Wisconsin. A sad, but strangely inviting little Tudor affair on the main drag. Bar downstairs. Sign on the side says it all: "Motel and Cocktail Lounge. Vacancy. 12 Rooms With Showers Open Year Round." The "Vacancy" part is painted on. There's also a vacancy here. The sign along the side trumpets "Air-Conditioning"—always an attraction.


Other delights in old Algoma, which sits on Lake Michigan's shore and is fantastically preserved: this canopied, stucco, single-pump gas station, right out of the 1950s. And in the center of the downtown, too.



Algoma was once big enough to have a Bank of Algoma, even if it was a narrow bit of business. Still: two gigantic pillars. Now an insurance outfit.



And the Stebbins Hotel, about 150 years old and still in business. This is what a grand regional hotel looked like a century ago. There's a sweet dining room inside, and wooden phone booths. It's been kept up and it run by a family—the latest in a successful of families that has operated the hotel.

Lost City: Troy, NY, Edition: Jimmy's Lunch

Jimmy's Lunch. In lonely old Troy, NY, which once processed the nation's steel, shirt collars, bells and liquor, and guided its tugboats up the Erie Canal. Borders Congress Street and an alley, giving it a shady, marginal category. The neon "Open" sign is placed at an angle, as if to beckon would-be customers down on busy nearby 4th Avenue, blocked only by the American flag. Inside, it is on the dark side. No light is wasted. The air seems to be akin to syrup, so slowly do people move. You can hear the dust settle. No rat race here. Just cheap lunch plates. Breakfast for $1.95. Jimmy's "Fine Food," as the sign says.

Lost City: North Carolina Edition: BBQ

Central North Carolina can be pretty numbingly suburban, the red soil and tall pines notwithstanding. It's hard to find much to hang your enthusiasm on. But finally, after many a trip (I have relatives there), I discovered North Carolina barbeque. I'll never leave the state unhappy again.

If you know anything about barbeque, you know it's done differently in every region where it thrives, and every area swears they do it the RIGHT way. In NC, BBQ means pork. Slow-cooked pork, pull off the carcass (not cut!) after cooking for a day. When served as a sandwich, it's put on a soft bun, topped with a vinegar-based sauce and often topped with cole slaw. When done by a master, this is stuff that will slide down your gullet more satisfyingly than anything you've ever had. Savory, spicy and deeply flavorful. Sensory bliss.

I don't just like NC BBQ because it tastes good. I also relish how it's practiced by independent restaurants of long-standing and little pretension, beyond a pride in their product. The places known for it are on the old side, smallish and have fiercely loyal patronage.

I've managed to hit three of the most ardently praised. My first experience was Stamey's in Greensboro. Stamey's has been in business since 1930 when Warner Stamey founded it. It's now in the hands of the third generation. There are a couple branches around the city; the one pictured is on High Point Road and replaced a drive-in that had considerably more charm (see below). They still slow-cook the barbecue over a pit of hardwood hickory coals. And you can get one of these great sandwiches for $2.75.



In Chapel Hill, I visited Allen & Son, a small house-like structure with a humble set-up inside. Allen & Son seems to provoke great debate among BBQ devotees. Some insist it's the best joint bar none; other says it's criminally overrated.

Me? I liked it fine. The sandwich was better, more subtle than Stamey's. I just sensed for artistry going on, more integrity. The sides were great, too, and North Carolina Sweet Tea goes just about perfectly with this stuff.




My final visit was to an unlovely, roadside dump called Backyard BBQ Pit in Durham. Easy to miss, easy to pass by as nothing special, it was as good as the better-known eateries above and in some ways my favorite. Why? Because the guy who makes the BBQ, a past master named Lloyd Lewis, is right behind the counter. Because he's unfailingly polite as he serves you. Because he's there to make sure his food is being enjoyed and takes an interest.

The interior is basic and unfussy. Almost ugly. People write on the walls and their graffiti is left intact, giving the room a bit more personality. And the food is friggin' great! One thing that amazes me about NC BBQ is how its served on these lackluster hamburger buns. It's a brave choice. The makers know it's not about the bun. They just need something to hold the great-tasting meat.

Frankie and Johnnie to Close

Ken Man of Greenwich Daily Photo, after reading a recent posting of mine about the unclear fate of Frankie and Johnnie Steakhouse on 45th Street (will it close and when?), went to visit the place and take a few shots. There he got the bad, sad word: "Frankie & Johnnie's is closing. I was up there taking pics this AM (inspired by your post), the proprietor invited me up and told me the whole block is being razed..."

I called to confirm, and the man on the phone said, yes, they were closing, but he had no idea exactly when. Through the end of the year might be a possibility. So the place could be around for a number of months still.

It was not unexpected, but it still hurts. Frankie and Johnnie's, a former speakeasy, opened in 1926, when Coolidge reigned, and is one of the oldest steak joints in the City. Certainly the oldest in Midtown. Babe Ruth ate here. Al Jolson, too. And many a Broadway star. In recent years, Shubert Theatre execs used the tiny, second-floor place to conduct meetings.

With it's long unattractive staircase entrance and the blinds drawn on the windows, it still feels like a speakeasy. According to the website, the name is derived from the old Jazz Age password. Speaking through a peephole, would-be patrons said "Frankie." If all was clear, the man behind the door said "Johnny." These days, it has one of the smallest and most secret bars in town. (To the right as you go up.)

Of course, Frankie & Johnnie's is a mini-chain, with locations on 37th Street and Rye, so it's not going away altogether. But still.

A Good Sign: Grand Hotel

This Grand Hotel is on Main Street in tiny downtown Nassau, NY, a pretty white clapboard community in Rensselaer County. The Grand Hotel is all of two stories tall, and probably contains four rooms. You won't find Greta Garbo in this place. The hotel is no longer in operation. Nor is the restaurant (see below). All that remains is an attached liquor store. But the store and building are still owned by the family that owned the hotel, and they hope to reopen the lodging and dining arms of the business soon.

A lovely sign. Check on the curving arrow that bears the word "Bar."

In With the New, and Ugly

So the New Apollo diner on Livingston in downtown Brooklyn decided to refurbish itselv sometime back, including taking down its fine bit of signage, seen above.

Walked by the other day. It was dark, admittedly, but I can't imagine these new signs look any better in the light. I'm sorry, but aren't these blobby-lettered, red-and-white jobbies just—what's the word?—awful? Particularly the "Express to Go" sign, which makes me feel like I'm in suburbia and go everywhere in my car. Can't imagine which sort of Brooklyn customer they weren't getting before that they think this sort of signage will attract now.

At least the new sign calls the Apollo a diner, which it what it is, and not a restaurant, as the old sign had it.

Russian Souvenirs

Small. Cluttered. Incongruous. On 14th Street. Just to look at.