The Mystery of The Diplomat

An anonymous reader yesterday posted a comment on an item I ran back in August about the old Magic Touch sign in Carroll Gardens. He was responding to some information I had collected that insinuated that "girls" could be procured at the long-gone restaurant. He objected:

The Magic Touch was an Italian restaurant and bar owned by a man named Mike Maluso. The establishment featured live music nightly, and pretty good veal and pasta. While it was very popular with the boys, as was Monte's Venetian Room on Carroll Street and the Diplomat on 3rd Avenue, it was in no way a place where prostitutes could be found or any nonsense like that would be tolerated.

Mmm. Veal and pasta. But The Diplomat? I know Monte's well, but have never heard of the supposedly once-popular The Diplomat on Third Avenue. Anyone know anything about this forgotten hangout?

A Touch of Paint

The every mysterious restaurant at Third Street and Hoyt in Carroll Gardens—former haunt of hard-playing mobsters and eternal home of a defunct neon sign of unspeakable glory—has received a new coat of paint. Looks nice. Now if they'd just take the frosting of the windows so I could peek inside. And conduct occasional tours of the interior.

The Mystery of Magic Touch, (Partially) Revealed

The wonderful and mysterious "Magic Touch" neon sign on the northeast corner of Hoyt Street and Third Street in Carroll Gardens has long driven me mad with curiosity. ("Italian Cuisine," "Cocktail Lounge") For a long time all I could learn about it was that my former longshoreman landlord could remember going there (proof that is was once an actual restaurant!); that it had closed in the '70s sometime (proof that it had been an Olde Brooklyn kinda joint); and that the space was now an artist's studio.

Not much to go on. But I never stopped asking questions, and lately I've felt that I've gathered enough information to deliver a report of not-altogether-specious quality. Much of what I learned came from a chance conversation with the owner of the equally mysterious M. Poggi Wholesale Confectionery at No. 293 Smith. That's right. I actually met him! And he's a nice, talkative guy! I was walking by, the door was open, and this stout, bald, bespectacled man jingling coins in his pocket was standing on the sidewalk passing the time of day. We talked for 15 minutes, and he was willing to answer questions about anything. Turns out he provides most of the delis and corner stores in the area with their supply of candy and gum. Whaddaya know.

Anyway, I digress. He remembered the Magic Touch. It was a "shady club," he said. He was pretty sure racketeering went on inside. And "girls" could be found there. Mr. Poggi himself never stepped foot inside the place. He's a clean-living kinda guy.

Other remembrances came from the folks on the South Brooklyn Network, who recalled Cadillacs and Lincolns parked outside all the time. Magic Touch reportedly opened in the '40s. It was owned by a guy named Mike, had a bartender named Timmy and a waitress named Ruthie. It was apparently the kind of place where you saw nothing and said nothing. What I wouldn't give to have a first-hand account of the interior and the goings-on on a typical night.

That sign, though. That sign casts a magical spell. I've met many people who talk about it in rhapsodic terms. There's something about it that makes you want to believe the Magic Touch was a special place.

A Good Sign: Magic Touch

This leftover presides over the northest corner of Hoyt and Third Place in Brooklyn, not far from the Gowanus. Magic Touch Italian Cuisine doesn't do business anymore and hasn't for 20 years. But the artist who keeps a studio in the building has thoughtfully decided to left the distintive sign intact. The westerly face of the sign says "Cocktail Lounge." With the neon top hat in the middle of the sign, it all seems pretty swanky.

I have no idea what sort of place Magic Touch was. My old longshoreman landlord on Carroll Street told me he used to go there. I asked him if it was any good, and he shrugged and said "It was OK." But that was his answer to everything, basically. The sign's always intrigued me because—well, because it's GREAT!—but also because it's not exactly in the middle of it all. Of course, maybe Third Place buzzed with business once upon a time.