Monday, October 16, 2017

Chelsea Deli & Bakery

VANISHED

Peter writes in to say: "The much-loved Chelsea Deli and Bakery on the southeast corner of 23rd and 8th has just closed for good. It had been there since at least 1999, when it was called Breadstix."


google streetview

And before Breadstix, it was known as S.G.S. Donuts -- I still have a dim memory of that great old sign.


Photo from Peter

It was a friendly and affordable spot. Unpretentious and easy. Exactly the sort of place that doesn't last anymore.

The reason for the closure? Peter says, "Mandy, behind the counter, told us there weren't enough customers lately to pay the rent."

Yesterday was their last day.


Photo from Peter

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Moe's Meat Market

VANISHING

I wrote a piece for the Times this week about the closing of Moe's Meat Market, a butcher shop on Elizabeth Street turned into an artist's studio and gallery in 1977. Back then, Bohemians and working-class Italians mixed on a street once affordable, now taken over by luxury.



Moe’s Meat Market, in Little Italy, hasn’t been a meat market for 40 years. But the floor is still tiled in black and white, the walls covered in porcelain-enameled tin sheets. When the artist Robert Kobayashi, known as Kobi, bought Moe’s and the rest of its building in 1977, he moved in with his wife, the photographer Kate Keller, and installed his studio in the storefront, leaving the walls intact. As a sculptor who worked with tin, maybe he felt an affinity for the sheet metal. Maybe he just appreciated the history.

Read the rest at The Times




the basement wine press


Tuesday, October 10, 2017

The Noho Star & Temple Bar

VANISHING

On Lafayette Street since 1985, The Noho Star still has an old-school vibe that attracts low-key neighborhood people along with New York luminaries like Chuck Close, Wallace Shawn, and Lauren Hutton. The restaurant's sister spot, Temple Bar, opened in 1989.

Now both are about to vanish.



The owners recently filed a Worker Adjustment and Retraining Notification (WARN) with the New York State Department of Labor, indicating plans to lay off Noho Star's staff of 54 workers and close the restaurant on December 31.

Under "Reason for Dislocation," it says "Economic." The same listing is given for Temple Bar--all 13 employees laid off and the place closed December 31.



Noho Star and Temple Bar were both opened by George Schwarz, a 1930s German-Jewish emigre who began his New York restaurant empire in 1973 with Elephant and Castle in Greenwich Village, followed by One Fifth (since closed). He then acquired and revived the great Keens Chop House when it closed in 1978. From there, he and his artist wife, Kiki Kogelnik, opened Noho Star and Temple Bar. They also bought the building.

Schwarz died not a year ago, in December 2016. His friend Bonnie Jenkins, long-time manager of Keens, is Vice President of the closing restaurants. (Jenkins prefers not to comment on the closures at this time.)

There are no indications that the shutter is coming for Keens or Elephant and Castle.


Eggs Idaho

Only in the past few years did I finally find my way to Noho Star. In a neighborhood of dwindling options, it's one of the last comfortable places to get a decent meal, i.e., a place that attracts a mixed-age crowd and doesn't play loud music (or any music) while you eat. It's a place where a person can dine alone, reading The Times (on paper) or The London Review of Books (as recently witnessed). It's a place where you can think.

I will miss it.






Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Left Bank Goes Online

After being pushed off West 4th Street by a rent hike (and replaced by a cafe that's now gone), and then having to leave their next location due to high costs of business, Left Bank Books has a new life online.



You can't smell the books. You can't touch the books. But at least you can still find and buy the books.

Plus: There's a note in the About section that says the owners "hope to re-open in the Village sometime in the near future."

Fingers crossed.



Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Friedman's Moves In

Now and then, against my better judgment, I walk by the shell of the once great Cafe Edison to see how the renovations are coming along.

This week, it looks like its replacement, Friedman's, is close to opening.



There's neon framing the windows where the Friedman's signage has appeared.



They've painted over the once famous powder pink and baby blue walls, turning them beige. Which seems appropriate -- it's going from the best matzo balls and blintzes in town to a gluten-free existence.



While the hotel owners originally claimed they would replace Cafe Edison with a "white-tablecloth" restaurant and a "name chef," they later announced that mini-chain Friedman's Lunch would be going in. "Just like the Cafe Edison," reported the Daily News in 2015, "the new restaurant is not some flashy, white-tablecloth type space... It’s a modest, family business." The real-estate broker on the deal told the paper, “It’s old-school, hearty good food. We must have gotten 50 offers but the landlord didn’t want big chains or celebrity chefs. They wanted something warm. This is going to be everything the Edison Cafe was--just a few decades later."

But there's no Mom and Pop Friedman here. The name is a tribute to Milton Friedman, the modern-day father of neoliberalism, that radical free-market capitalist system that is driving the hyper-gentrification of cities around the globe.

You can't make this stuff up.

If you want to read more about this place, and the fight to save Cafe Edison, you can read more here.


Monday, October 2, 2017

Matt Umanov Guitars

VANISHING

After nearly 50 years in business, Matt Umanov Guitars has announced they'll be closing.



On the shop's website, Umanov writes:

"After fifty-three years of having been in the business of helping so many guitar (and all the other fretted instruments) players have the tools with which to make music, forty-eight of those years at my store here in Greenwich Village, in the great City of New York, it is finally time for me to close this chapter of my life, relax some, travel some, play with the grandkids, all that kind of thing, though I wouldn’t quite call it 'retirement'; I’ll still be around."


(Thanks to Jarrod for the tip.)

Umanov, a native of Brooklyn, opened his first shop on Bedford Street in 1969 and moved to this spot on Bleecker in 1982.

In 2013, he told New York Business Journal: “Bleecker was the shopping street for Italian immigrants in the Village. We had two fish stores, five bakeries, children’s stores and furniture stores." Most of those shops have vanished, and now Umanov will go with them--though he owns the building.

"Back in 1992," Business Journal reported, "Umanov was given the opportunity to acquire the building. He seized the day and bought it. 'It enabled me to stay in business. Without buying it, I could never afford the rent,' he acknowledged."


photo via GVSHP

In today's goodbye note, Umanov concludes: "I think that what I’ll miss the most will be having what someone called 'my clubhouse,' where so many of you have come over the years to look, to buy, to get their treasured instruments back into working shape, to hang out and shoot the breeze. I’ll miss the unpredictable, terrific array of all of you coming in and being who you are, fascinating and wonderful every one, made my day, every day."




Mayfair Barber Shop

VANISHED

When I'm in the neighborhood, along 8th Avenue in the lower 40s and upper 30s, I like to visit the Mayfair Barber Shop. If I need a haircut, I get a haircut. If I don't, I just commune with the place.

This past Friday, I attempted a visit, only to find the Mayfair gone.


2013

I was shocked (though by now I shouldn't be) and heartbroken. I had that familiar sense of disorientation--was it here or there?

An expanding coffee chain has taken its place, sanitary and generic, its windows full of people staring into screens. This is what change looks like in the city today, all moving in the same direction of sameness.


today

This corner of 39th and 8th has long been a holdout of the old city, containing the barber shop, next to a combination cobbler/tailor, a Halal fried chicken joint, a liquor store with a good neon sign, and an adult video store.

The loss of the Mayfair has me worrying for the whole thing.


2013

It was a gorgeous little barber shop that had been there for decades, somewhere between 50 and 75 years, according to different sources.

As I described it in a previous post: When you step into the Mayfair, the air is cool and smells of Pinaud. Two barbers vie for your business, directing you to their chairs. You follow the one who reaches out, almost taking your hand. His hair is as white as his smock.

As he works around your head, he explains, "You gotta eat the black grape. It's better for you. The white grape is okay, but not as good. Dark food is best. Better than white food. I like the dark grape in juice. I drink the Welch's."


2013

Distraught by the loss, I hurried into a neighboring shop and asked what happened. The shopkeeper told me, "The rent was too high."

He sent me to John's Barber Shop, underground, in the subway station at 42nd and 8th. In that quiet, subterranean space, I found one barber of the Mayfair, sitting and waiting for some hair to cut.




Wednesday, September 27, 2017

La Lunchonette Revisited

In 2015, the Chelsea restaurant La Lunchonette was forced to close, thanks to the High Line Effect. It had been in business there, and beloved, for 26 years.



The building was slated to be demolished, along with a former horse stable built in the 1880s, for a tax-supported, 10-story luxury condo made of wood, from SHoP, architects of the Barclays Center. Then the restaurant's former space showed up for rent.

Earlier this year, the developer scrapped plans for the luxury tower, blaming a downturn in the luxury condo market. “The project just wasn’t feasible,” he told The Real Deal.

And now?



A deli called Chelsea Square Market has opened in La Lunchonette's former space.

So the buildings get to live another day and the space isn't sitting empty, contributing to high-rent blight. It didn't turn into a chain store, either. But if I had to guess, I'd say the market's lease is likely short, that it's a temporary place-holder until the developers figure out what to do with their parcel.

And doesn't it seem a waste? All this time, La Lunchonette could have remained in business.


Tuesday, September 26, 2017

La Taza to Ikinari

Here's what the gorgeous old La Taza de Oro is becoming:



La Taza de Oro closed in 2015 after 68 years on Chelsea's 8th Avenue. The reasons were complex, including money struggles, Con Ed, and Google.

Now it's going to be an Ikinari Steak. It's a rapidly growing chain restaurant. There's another one on E. 10th Street. And another one opening on Bleecker. And another one...

Monday, September 25, 2017

14th and 8th

Back in 2009, I had a nightmare that WalMart would be replacing the Korean deli on 14th Street and 8th Avenue.


2009

I don't know about WalMart, but it looks like the whole corner is coming down--the deli building and the building next to it. (Thanks to Shade for the tip.)

Everything's closed and shuttered up, marked with big X's.



Back when I worked nearby, I went to this deli all the time for lunch. Someone on Yelp recently wrote:

"After 25 years in business this place closes the door today, 9/2/17. I'm feeling nostalgic because I've been going here off and on since I moved to the neighborhood in 1995."



I always liked this corner. I liked seeing that it was still standing and in business. It was a holdout, low-rise and scruffy, the brown bricks flaked with old paint. It held a candy store/smoke shop and a liquor store. Basic stuff.

The bright yellow DISCOUNT LIQUORS neon sign is something to behold. Enjoy it while it lasts.



So what's coming? In 2015, New York Yimby reported that a permit application was submitted for a 12-story office tower here. The architect was listed as Gene Kaufman.

The site 42 floors listed the new building in June as 10 floors and included this sliver of a rendering for the address:







Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Hong Kong Tailor Jack

VANISHING

Christian writes in to let us know about the end of Hong Kong Tailor Jack in Greenwich Village.


photo via Hong Kong Tailor Jack's Facebook page

He writes: "There's a note on the front door of Hong Kong Tailor Jack saying that they aren't going to renew their lease and will be closing next month. This place is kind of an institution in the West Village. Jack unexpectedly passed away from cancer last year. His niece and nephew were trying to keep it open in conjunction with the longtime staff. It looks like they've decided to move on."

The note reads, "Our lease is expiring and we will close for good."


photo by Christian

Jack Ko was named Best Tailor in the city by New York magazine in 2007. He opened shop in the 1980s and was well-respected by his many fashionable customers, including Tommy Fazio, men’s fashion director at Bergdorf Goodman, who told New York, “Jack Ko is a master with a suit. He can make anything you want perfectly.”

The shop's last day will be October 21.


photo via Hong Kong Tailor Jack's Facebook page








Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Cup & Saucer Stripped

This summer we saw the tragic end of the Cup & Saucer, thanks to a non-negotiable rent hike.



It didn't take long for the beautiful old signage to get stripped.



And replaced by a bunch of shitty For Rent banners.








Monday, September 18, 2017

Native Leather

VANISHING

On Bleecker Street since 1968, Native Leather is closing.


photos courtesy of Carol Walsh

Owner Carol Walsh writes in:

"Native Leather, formerly Natural Leather, has been a constant on Bleecker Street for 49 years. I was heartbroken when the landlord told me that he would not be offering me a new lease. The last lease expired 2 years ago and since then he has been trying to find a tenant who will pay double what my rent was."

The shop was originally started by sandal-maker Dick Whalen in a basement on MacDougal Street in 1962. (For more history on the shop, see Mitch Broder's account.) Since then, it's been a favorite of locals and tourists.

Carol notes, "A day doesn’t go by that I don’t hear from someone 'I’m so glad you’re still here,' or 'I was so worried walking over here that you would be gone.' It wasn’t because they needed me to make them a belt or sandals, or they needed a new hat. It was the comfort of knowing that this little plot of Greenwich Village was impervious to the 'progress' that has afflicted so much of New York and notably the Village. I have customers who started out window shopping on their way home from elementary school across the street at the Little Red Schoolhouse."



The high-rent blight that afflicts western Bleecker Street is creeping east. More and more, we see For Rent signs in the windows of shops shuttered by impossible rents and denied lease renewals. They are unprotected by the city. The Small Business Jobs Survival Act would have helped.

Carol says, "The 'Commercial Space for Rent' sign has yet to appear in the window. I expect it any day. 203 Bleecker is destined to join the many empty storefronts which populate Greenwich Village and beyond. The future is still uncertain, but I know that I will need help if this business is to survive to start a new legacy somewhere else in Greenwich Village."





Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Reme Restaurant

VANISHED

Reader Keith Taillon writes in about the recent loss of yet another affordable coffee shop:

"A beloved neighborhood diner in Washington Heights abruptly closed recently, and I don't know why. I visited one week, and walking past a week later, found the space emptied with auction fliers taped to the windows. It remains empty."


photos by Keith Taillon

"The diner was called Reme, and it sat at the northwest corner of 169th and Broadway. It was a classic NYC diner, open for at least 40-50 years, attracting old timers, hospital workers, students, and newcomers (like myself) drawn to the area by low rents and a sense of 'home' you can't find elsewhere in the city anymore. Part of what made Washington Heights home for me was being able to go to Reme, where I knew all of the employees by face if not by name, and where I knew I could get a good hot meal for just a few bucks."



Keith shares a few anecdotes:

"- It was cash-only, and very affordable.
- It attracted a great mix from the neighborhood. Lonely old Dominican men & women sitting alone at the bar, loud multi-generational families spilling across tables in the middle of the room, and doctors & students from NY Presbyterian Hospital all could be found there on a daily basis.
- Sheila was my favorite waitress. She was a short, gruff, and sassy Trinidadian woman who lived in Queens and commuted in almost daily. She was even there during blizzards and immediately after Hurricane Sandy, though god knows how she made it in. She was always ready with her order pad and a 'whattayahavin?' I'll miss her.
- There was an ancient TV above the kitchen prep alcove that was usually tuned to the news or a soap opera, sometimes kids' shows. Next to that was a shelf covered with a menagerie of action figures. I don't know why.
- The breakfast menu, which was used before 11AM, had a long history of the restaurant printed on the back. The details I remember are that it was originally called 'Remel Restaurant' when it opened in the 40s, but that the L fell off at some point. When it was bought by a new owner, he liked the metal lettering, even without the L and decided to just call the place Reme from then on."



He concludes:

"I can't help but think a lot of people in the neighborhood are missing Reme, but Washington Heights lacks the preservationist infrastructure to discuss what's happening or to properly mourn our losses as they pick up speed. Whatever replaces Reme will have to work hard to pry any dollars from my wallet. This is a bitter loss for me."

Monday, September 11, 2017

Greater Than Ever?

In their last issue, New York magazine published an eye-opening interview with Dan Doctoroff, former Mayor Bloomberg's deputy mayor of economic development and reconstruction.

The occasion for the interview was Doctoroff's new book, Greater Than Ever: New York's Big Comeback, about his years working to rezone nearly half the city after 9/11, a Robert Moses-level act that made the city glitter as it helped to boost vast inequality and unprecedented levels of hyper-gentrification.


Doctoroff at Hudson Yards. Photo: Kyle Dorosz

In the interview, Doctoroff acknowledges this. A bit. "The city grew faster than we expected," he says. But he holds to the belief that "You have to treat citizens and businesses like customers." It's a basic tenet of what urbanist Julian Brash has called The Bloomberg Way, "a notion of governance in which the city is run like a corporation. The mayor is the CEO, the businesses are clients, citizens are consumers, and the city itself is a product that’s branded and marketed. And New York is a luxury product."

To create that luxury product, the Bloomberg administration relied on two types of zonings: up and down. They are not equal.

Upzoning opens territories for higher rents and bigger development, while downzoning preserves neighborhood character by limiting growth. As Sarah Laskow pointed out in Politico New York: “Upzoned lots tended to be in areas that were less white and less wealthy, with fewer homeowners. Downzoned lots tended to be areas that were more white and had both higher incomes and higher rates of homeownership.” That meant “more privileged people were more likely to have the city change the zoning of their neighborhoods to preserve them exactly as they were.” Less privileged people got upzoned out.



In his book, Doctoroff argues that this massive rezoning “changed the physical nature of the city in ways that will undergird prosperity for decades,” while attracting new “dreamers and strivers."

Interviewer Carl Swanson calls these people "the new New Yorkers who, while they might claim they long for some filth Camelot of the busted 1970s, happily throng this implacably gentrifying customer-service metropolis."

For Doctoroff, says Swanson, nostalgia is "practically an epithet." Of course. Nostalgia as epithet is a strategy used by pro-development people to discredit and dismiss those who want to preserve the city as a diverse and affordable place. "You're just nostalgic" has become a cliche of the pro-growth mindset.



But it was this bit of the interview that really grabbed me:

"Doctoroff also writes in the book about how he never really liked New York City, much less wanted to live here, which is an odd thing for someone who served for six years as its deputy mayor to admit. When he first visited with his family, in 1968 — he was 10 and a resident of Birmingham, a well-off suburb of Detroit — it was 'hate at first sight.' He moved here in 1983 after his wife got a job at HBO — Doctoroff had been only three times and it never grew on him. The self-described 'creature of the suburbs' helped remake this city, in some ways, for his own maximum personal comfort."

Isn't that what many of us suspected?

It brings to mind something that urbanist William Whyte wrote on the urban renewal of the 1950s and ’60s. While more people were moving into cities and rebuilding them, he said, it was “not the same thing as liking cities.” The people doing the rebuilding “don’t like cities. They do not merely dislike the noise and the dirt and the congestion. They dislike the city’s variety and concentration, its tension, its hustle and bustle.”

And what about the new "dreamers and strivers"? Do they love New York? Or do they love the suburbanized town remade for the personal comfort of a certain class of people?



Doctoroff calls himself a "creature of the suburbs." Throughout the 2000s, we've witnessed the suburbanization of New York City. This shift is not expressed only in the proliferation of big-box chain stores, it also comes in the hearts and minds of many (not all) newcomers.

As Rem Koolhaas has said, "The city has twice been humiliated by the suburbs: once upon the loss of its constituency to the suburbs and again upon that constituency’s return. These prodigal citizens brought back with them their mutated suburban values of predictability and control."


125th St. after a Bloomberg rezoning

Under Bloomberg, the city’s poverty rate rose to its highest levels in a decade. More people became homeless. The income gap in Manhattan rivaled sub-Saharan Africa. By 2016, New Yorkers were spending 65.2 percent of their total income on rent. Small businesses are in crisis. Neighborhoods are hyper-gentrifying -- and re-segregating along race and class lines.

As Michael Greenberg recently wrote in his important New York Review article on the city's affordable housing crisis: "We speak nowadays with contrition of redlining, the mid-twentieth-century practice by banks of starving black neighborhoods of mortgages, home improvement loans, and investment of almost any sort. We may soon look with equal shame on what might come to be known as bluelining: the transfiguration of those same neighborhoods with a deluge of investment aimed at a wealthier class."

Is this really "greater than ever"? As always, we must ask: Greater for whom?



Friday, September 8, 2017

Cafe Orlin

VANISHING

After 36 years on St. Mark's Place, the much beloved Cafe Orlin will be closing.

I confirmed with the cafe that their last day in business will be October 15, but didn't have the chance to find out the reason for the closure.

UPDATE: Grub Street followed up and said, "An employee who confirmed the closing said, 'I don’t know. I think the owner is tired, after 36 years.' He did say that Orlin’s owner owns the building, and a new restaurant will open in its place."


"Bohemian hangout," New York magazine, 1987

This is one of those favorite neighborhood spots you tuck into with a friend and say: Thank goodness this one's still here. (Seriously, I just said that a few weeks ago over the breakfast sandwich.)

The closure is surprising if only because Orlin is always packed for weekend brunch, with lines of people waiting to get a table. Since 1981, it's been a go-to when you wanted a "nicer" bacon and eggs than diner fare.

And now? Yet another nail in the coffin for dying St. Mark's Place.

Well, you can always go to the St. Mark's Starbucks.




Friday, September 1, 2017

Cube Christened

The Astor Place Cube has been christened.


photo: Joe Preston

After getting spruced up and sanitized almost a year ago by the Village Alliance BID for the new, more controlled, and semi-privatized Astor Place, The Alamo has finally attracted some good old-fashioned chaos. In yellow spray paint. With a Pac-Man and a heart.

Unless, of course, that's some stealthy authentrification.

Happy end of summer.

And Grieve reports -- the private forces of the Village Alliance have already been on it:




Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Last Supper at The Riviera

VANISHING

The Riviera Cafe will have its last day of business tomorrow, on August 31, as previously reported here. So I went for a last meal.



They've redone their menu to feature a goodbye note and family photos.



"Yes, it's true," the menu reads. "We will be closing our doors for the last time on August 31. It has been a great run of 47 years." The letter recalls the old days--and the old prices--and says, "the current landscape is nothing like it was... we are now saturated with restaurants that keep coming and going. They usually don't last long, but sure enough someone else always shows up to take over. After nearly a half-century, we decided it was time."

"Simply put, given the current environment we can't survive and be what we've always been: a nice neighborhood coffee shop/restaurant that welcomes all with no pretense at an affordable price. And we aren't going to change that format to 'keep up with the Joneses.' It is for that reason, and that reason only, we decided to wrap it up."



Whether it's the rent or the taxes, the price of doing business in a hyper-gentrified neighborhood is usually to blame for these closures.

I'll miss the Riviera. It was always there when you needed an affordable and unpretentious place for a meal. Something that's becoming evermore impossible to find.