Lost City Asks "Who Goes to Le Rivage"?

For this week's "Who Goes There?," I ventured onto Restaurant Row. With the number of old holdouts on that strip, I suspect I'll be back again soon. I'm looking at you, La Rivista!

Who Goes There? Le Rivage

Few blocks have a more stubborn dining profile than Times Square's Restaurant Row, the strip of showfolk and tourist redoubts along West 46th Street between Eighth and Ninth Avenue. Broadway Joe Steakhouse, Barbetta, La Rivista, The Hourglass Tavern, Joe Allen, Lattanzi, Meson Sevilla—these places might as well have actual roots reaching miles below the pavement, they're so absolutely there.

One of the oldest is Le Rivage, the unpretentious French bistro which has been run by the Denamiel family since 1984. A third-generation Denamiel is actually in the kitchen: Chef Paul Denamiel. Prior to their life in Hell's Kitchen, the Denamiels ran a similar place on East 86th Street called Cafe du Soir for a couple decades. Even in 1968, New York Times food critic Craig Claiborne called the menu "predictable." No food trend goes un-ignored at Le Rivage. You want Trout Amandine? Frog Legs, Chicken Cordon Blue, Tournedoes? Of course you do. Your grandparents wanted them, so did you parents. Why not you? And Le Rivage remembers your parents. They used to come here before the theater; still do, actually. And now you come. Le Rivage gets multiple generations of regulars, old folks with bow ties and canes, and longtime friends who gab on into the night about other old friends, over sorbet and coffee and dessert wine.

Most patrons have abandoned the scene by 7:30 PM and a ghostly silence falls over the warm, faded, brick-and-wood-lined room, giving your plenty of time to contemplate the countless copper pans that hang on the walls, and the many bad oil paintings, all by one "D. Ruperti." (There's a snug, elevated eating nook in back, if you really want to be alone with Ruperti's brightly hued landscapes.) But a steady trickle of diners takes advantage of the off-hours, all greeted solicitously first by the tall, thin, attractive and proper young hostess from Eastern Europe, who doubles as coat-check girl; and then by The Madame of the house. Madame is the only French speaker on the floor. Dressing chicly in black, she brings a bottle to the hostess. "I brought the Medoc. I thought we needed the Medoc." She clears out soon after curtain time as well. The lady didn't have far to go; the Denamiel family owns the building and, I believe, lives upstairs.

The big Slavic waitresses, who look like they belong at Polonia on First Avenue, tred heavily and smile easily, saying "bon appetit" as they bring large, hot plates to your table. The edges of the platters are inscribed, in a gesture of old-fashioned dignity, with the words "Le Rivage"—just like those forgotten, paperweight-heavy, hotel and shipping-line dishes you find at Fishs Eddy. The food is not overly spiced, or overly flavored for that matter. But, have no doubt, it is predicable. Claiborne would recognize it.
—Brooks of Sheffield

Read more »

A Perfect Storefront: Klenosky Paint

I've conceived this new Lost City feature, "Perfect Storefront," as a kind of companion to my ongoing "A Good Sign" feature—as a way to show appreciation for everyday Gothamite street art, coming in the form of conscious, sub-conscious or unconscious mercantile design.

What makes a perfect storefront? Well, a lot of things. Originality, for one. That doesn't mean the store owner has to be self-consciously bizarre or artful, just that they show a little character and individuality. One should be able to tell that the store is owned by a person or a family, not a corporation or chain.

The facade should contribute to the palate of the streetscape, both acting in harmony with the immediate surroundings and providing something special to delight the eye as well. The shop need not be old, but age has it's advantages. Through the passing of years, the store slowly but surely melds with the block. It becomes an organic element. Also, the passage of time usually contributes various additions to the original facade, in the form of signs, stickers, new paint jobs, paneling. Things also go missing, too, such as letters on the sign. This all adds up to an appealingly lived-in feel, not to mention an intriguing, somewhat ineffable impression of living urban history. Great storefronts are almost always accidents of time, putting themselves together in haphazard style with the flipping calendar.

Bold or fanciful letter fonts, interesting color schemes, hand-painted signs, quirky entrances, attractive window displays, fantastic neon and anything eccentric all do their part, of course. And it doesn't hurt for the store to be situated in a beautiful building to begin with.

Bad storefronts? Anonymous, crap, cloth awnings; garish, cookie-cutter signage; chain-store insignia; those plastic "grand opening" flags; ugly Home Depot metal doors; those big red signs that thank you for your patronage; eye-stingingly wrong colors; It-Came-From-Outer-Space, completely out of place, overall designs—all steps in the wrong direction.

There's a lot that's wonderful about the Klenosky Paint store on Metropolitan Avenue in Williamsburg. The red facade adds a dash of color to the street, while the blue lettering of the sign ties the storefront in with the building's aluminum siding. The front entrance is set in a bit, which adds a bit of dimension to the front, as does the Moore Paints sign hanging perpendicularly from the storefront. The gentle repetition of "paint" knits the whole together. The hand-painted Paint Fair emblems lends a homey feel, and the backward "K" a touching kookiness.

Yes, I'm sure I've overthought this. But, sue me. This is the kind of thing I think about.

Read more »

Gage & Arby's Will Open on Jan. 21

The day of reckoning is night. The old, landmarked, Gage & Tollner space will reopen as an Arby's franchise on Jan. 21. Hilariously, it will have a "soft" opening, as if it's some trendy new boite run by a hotshot chef. The grand opening will come a couple weeks later. Needless to say, I'll be there for my breakfast sandwich and a spot inspection of the priceless interior early in the AM that day.

Wooden Phone Booth Sighting: Bamonte's

Bamonte's, the old-school Italian restaurant on Withers Street in Williamsburg, has a couple of lovelies just opposite the bar. Both were once used as the house phones. If you called Bamonte's, the phone in the booth rangs. These days, the one on the right only takes incoming calls, while you can call out on the left one. The phones are touchtone and there are smart circular lights overhead.




Previous Wooden Phone Booth Sightings

The Latest Insane-Landlord-Induced Sadness

From the Daily News:

A Harlem diner where they've been slinging hash for 85 years might soon be serving its last cuppa joe, thanks to a massive rent hike.

The longtime owners of the Greek's Collegiate Food Shop on Amsterdam Ave. at 139th St. said they're hoping for a miracle to stay open.

"This place opened in 1925, and I took over in 1979, 31 years ago, so yes, I'm sad," said George Kakomanolis, who runs the restaurant with his sister-in-law, brother-in-law and son.

"I don't have the strength to begin again," he added. "It's not easy, and the economy isn't so good to risk it."

When the restaurant's 15-year lease expired in April, Kakomanolis was paying $2,000 a month rent.

The landlord, Perseus Management, granted him a six-month reprieve if he paid $3,000.

That agreement expired in October, and he has not paid rent since.

He expects to be evicted any day because he can't afford what the landlord is asking: $6,000 a month.

"I can't afford it," he said. "After so many years, it's not easy to change.

"I think I will try to find something similar, but I will have to work for someone else."

Diner Ira Blumenreich, who has been eating at the Greek's three to five times a week for 30 years, is one of many heartbroken customers.

"The food is good, the price is right and it's nice to go someplace where they know you," he said.

"They tell us every day what we are eating," Blumenreich added. "She tells us what's good today, and what we are eating."

"It's going to be difficult because there really isn't a place like this here in the neighborhood."

Perseus Management did not return calls for comment.

Perseus, huh? Medusa would be a better name.

From $2,000 to $3,000 to $6,000 a month in less than a year! In a recession! In Harlem!! Where is this landlord. I feel a great need to spit on him. And his family. And his dog. One day they find the repository where previously decent people turn in their hearts and souls and consciences in order to become landlords, and a lot will be explained.

Some Stuff That's Aggravating

Freddy's Bar, fighting for its life againt enemy-of-the-people Bruce Ratner and his eminent-domain-abuse task force, makes its case on Fox News. [Curbed]

The ghost of Frank O'Hara has cursed the condo on the former site of The Cedar Tavern. [Curbed]

Bloomberg, who abuses salt, wants to regulate our salt intake. [Eater]

Surprise: People think the MTA is doing a bad job on the new B62 bus line. Why should it give any better service that does the abysmal B61? [LiQcity]

The newly repaired parts of the Coney Island boardwalk are already falling apart. [Daily News]

Toll Brothers, the scourge of the Gowanus, tried to weasel out of fully paying for a canal property they secure in early 2009 until a final decision had been made regarding Superfund status. The owner is suing the Tolls. [Brownstoner]

The City wants Superfund status for Newtown Creek, but not the Gowanus, because, you now, they're polluted in totally different ways. [Courier]

Totonno's Still Not Open, But Activity Spied Outside

Totonno's Pizzeria in Coney Island is still not open, despite a fairly definite article in the NY Post on Dec. 1 that stated it would open in two weeks. The piece said to call (718) 372-8606 to check on the exact opening day. Only that number is still disconnected.

Plus, Totonno's owner Lawrence Ciminieri told Slice: "Put it this way," he said, "Come the new year, we'll be open."

They sure know how to string it out on Neptune Avenue.

UPDATE: A reader reports: "I drove by there yesterday and it looks very close to opening - there were people coming in and out."

A Good Sign: V & T Pizzeria

On Amsterdam and 110th Street, in Morningside Heights.

Crocs Seeing After 192-Year Old 143 Spring Street

For some time, I've bemoaned the sad state of 143 Spring Street, a wooden Federal-era building in SoHo, and wondered why the hell the Crocs corporation, which has leased it, wasn't taking care of it.

Curbed brings encouraging news that the shoe people are finally doing their duty with the nearly two-century old gem.

143 Spring has had its south face re-bricked (salvaging some of the old stuff) and replacement wooden clapboards have gone up on the west and north facades. In place of a one-story 1925 garage on Wooster Street is a new addition fitted in finned glass and zinc-coated panels, whose height and massing will, in the words of the Landmarks Preservation Commission, "subordinate to the Federal style building while reinforcing the street wall along Wooster Street."

The design for the Croc-ateria is from architect William J. Rockwell and is "part restoration, part renovation" that "maintains the classic proportions of Wooster Street and the rest of the SoHo Cast Iron District." Interiors will be handled by the classic Croc crew from L & M Associates out of Eden Prairie, Minnesota.

Sounds good. Or, at least, not too bad. I was worried whether they were going save the wonderful wood-frame bay window on the south side. However, based on a great tax photo of the building Curbed published (below), it does not seem that window was original and, who knows, might have been put in by Tennessee Mountain, the bbq joint that used to be there.


Below is the building in sadder days, a couple years ago.

Carroll Gardens Gate Thief Strikes Again?

You may remember, back in early 2008, some wild stories of a thief robbing Carroll Gardens brownstones of their historic cast-iron gates, taking them to the scrap iron dealer on Smith and 3rd to sell for cash.

Well, he may have struck again. Early this morning, I was walking west on Third Place between Clinton and Henry, lost in my thoughts while the snow lightly fell, when two men approached me. They were carrying something. I didn't think much of it until they had passed. Then I turned around and took a good look. It was a cast iron gate! I felt around for my camera and cursed my luck that I had forgotten to bring it. I suppose I should have asked them what they were doing with a cast iron gate, but by then they were well ahead of me. And what if it was their gate after all (unlikely, I know, but...)? I got a good look at them, though. One man was old, probably 60 or 65, about 5' 6" and haggard looking, with a black thermal winter coat and black pants and a black wool cap. The other was young, maybe 30 or younger, 5' 5", with a dark green thermal winter coat, black pants and a black wool cap. They were walking hurriedly and took a left at Clinton.

I thought at first that they might be construction workers going about legitimate business. But then something changed my mind. The old man paused briefly before another brownstone, reached out and tested the gate, as if to see if it were loose or not. Then I thought: thieves.

I traces their steps to Henry but did not see any absent gates on any of the homes. Is anyone out there in south Carroll Gardens, around Henry Street, missing one?

(Picture courtesy of Pardon Me For Asking.)