Bazzini's Motto

Never heard this particular slogan for Bazzini, the age-old New Yokr nut company. But maybe I just wasn't paying attention.

Cafiero's in Color!

A descendent of the Cafiero family has once again been in touch with me. The result is the above photo, the first color image I have ever seen of Cafiero's, the once-famed South Brooklyn Italian eatery. 


The image is from 1970,  just a few years before owner Sharkey Cafiero closed the legendary gathering place for good. I'm sure if the picture was a wider shot, we would see on either side of the business a rather down-on-its-luck neighborhood. In the picture are Kate Cafiero, Sharkey's wife, and one of her nieces. (The niece's sister sent me the photo.) The picture confirmed that the blue frontage, which is still visible on the building, was original. We can also see small demi-curtains inside of a kind that were common to restaurants in the first half of the 20th century.

A Good Sign: David's Barber Shop

You know those ridiculously bad illustrations that some old school barbers and dry cleaners have in their windows, the 1970s-style, everybody-has-feathered-blown-dried-hair pictures that illustrate various cuts, and cleaning and tailoring opportunities? Well, David's Barber Shop on the Upper East Side has one as its permanent sign! Is it me, or does the man look even prettier than the girl?

Guy's on the Clock in Howard Beach

A reader forwarded me this image. It's one of the damnedest pieces of signage I've ever encountered.

A leather-jacketed tough, 1950s-style, biding his time leaning against a brick wall, standing on top of a...big yellow clock.

WTF? The clock—which has no hands and hasn't worked in years—obviously has nothing to do with the current tenants of the building, an Assemblywoman and some lawyers. The greaser is chained to the wall and a bit weatherbeaten. Any Howard Beachers out there who know the story?

Circo's Pastry Shop

In Knickerbocker Avenue in Bushwick. Circo's has been around since 1945. Nice neon. Photo credit goes to my wife, who can't get enough of Bushwick. I, personally, can.

THE UNION STREET PROJECT: 141 Union Street

This is the ninth post of "The Union Street Project," in which I unearth the history of every building along the once bustling Brooklyn commercial strips of Union Street between Hicks and Van Brunt, and Columbia Street between Sackett and Carroll.

The buildings 141, 143 and 145 Union Street were built as a block. Aside from various modern paint jobs, and certain filled-in windows, they are near-identical. They stand out on the block for a number of reasons. They are four stories tall on a block of three-story buildings. The lintels are very decorative, and the cornices are intact. I have not been able to discover the name of the builder of the three structures, but he's to be applauded.

The westernmost building is 141 Union Street. All three building once had stores on their ground floors, though only one has a working business today. In the 1920, 141 Union was the home to a lovely looking pastry shop, as you can see from the Municipal Archives photo below. R. Bottaro Pasticceria was the name of the place. I have not been able to learn anything more about the shop.

I also learned that 141 Union was a boarding house around the turn of the 20th century. And a boarding house quite well known to the police it was! In 1888, a man named Robert Morris, who lived here, charged his wife with being a "habitual drunkard" who had not been sober in three months time. She was sent to the "Inebriates Home." This same Robert Morris, a tailor who seems to have had a hard life, was accused of stealing a coat in 1886. The charge was dismissed, as the owner of the coat had refused to pay for the repair work Morris had done.

In 1897, John Drummond, who resided here, was almost killed by Palo Bartolo. Bartolo was arrested. Meanwhile, a nice Swedish girl, newly landed and living here, was looking for housework in 1889. I wonder if she knew the Morrises.

PREVIOUS "UNION SQUARE PROJECT" POSTS

Hav-A-Pizza

While we're on a Yorkville nostalgia spree, let's post this picture. It's from a site that lists the names and addresses of many of the old Yorkville businesses. According to the site, the pizzeria was on E. 86th Street. A man named Tony made the pizzas. Aside from the great name, and great slogan ("Pizza With That Real Italian Taste"), note the newsstand out front, what looks like a shoeshine stand, and the price! 25 cents a slice.

Lost City Asks "Who Goes to Bohemian Hall Beer Garden"?

This week's "Who Goes There?" takes me back to Queens and one of my favorite places in New York. And a place lately much in the news, due to the onslaught of new beer gardens throughout the City. Bohemian Hall is holding its own, I'm happy to say. The above shot is the gigantic Jever umbrella I mention in the article. This column also marks the debut of a new "Who Goes There?" photographer, Adam Lerner. He's off to a good start.

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Yesteryear's Yorkville

A photographic gaze in Yorkville's Germanic-Czech-Hungarian past. The above is of a southern stretch of 86th Street, long ago supplanted by a glass skyscraper. You can see more pictures here.

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Yorkville's Darling, if Un-P.C., Cabinet Shop

The Little Wolf Cabinet Shop on the First Avenue in Yorkville has been in business since 1956. It was started by John Wolf, Sr., a member of a family who has been doing cabinetry since the early 1800s, first around Munich, and now in New York.

The name partly explains the shop's name. Or all of it, if you think the "Little" refers to John Wolf's son, John Wolf, Jr., who began working alongside his son early on. It does not, however, explain the illustration of the cute, but stereotypical Native American lass on that sign.

I'm guessing that the cartoon gets equal shares of smiles and grimaces from passersby. It's less than politically correct at this point. However, when the shop was created—a time when sones like "Running Bear" were big hits on the chart—it must have seemed pretty innocent. Come to think of it, it still seems pretty innocent. And, for history's sake, I'm glad they never changed the sign.

For the record, Little Wolf was actually a rather famous Native American. But not a little girl. Little Wolf  was a chief of the Northern Cheyenne in the late 1800s.