Bluejake actually had the stones to venture inside the Bat Cave recently, so check out what it looks like from the inside.
via Curbed.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Bat Cave gets some coverage
Bluejake actually had the stones to venture inside the Bat Cave recently, so check out what it looks like from the inside.
via Curbed.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
More Nothing From Whole Foods
As first reported here, Whole Foods has begun the process of doing something to it's site on Third and Third. What it is, as they say, ain't exactly clear. A meeting last night was supposed to clear things up, but to no one's surprise, it didn't. And it is certainly understandable that Whole Foods is questioning what to do with the property. They probably can't get ANY realistic financing for development of the site, and are questioning whether or not a Whole Foods would even be feasible in this economy. So, their indecision, while certainly frustrating, is nonetheless understandable.
There are plenty of recaps of the meeting, but the Post's was the first out there, so:
"John Bogdaski, an environmental consultant for Whole Foods, told members of Brooklyn Community Board 6’s environmental committee last night that site preparation work for cleanup of the two-acre site at Third Avenue and Third Street began earlier this month and that it should be decontaminated and ready for future development by the end of April.
The problem is Whole Foods is still trying to salvage the store-part of the project by finding development partners, although Bogdaski said the chain “is still committed” to building the supermarket.
He said in the coming weeks contaminated soil and three leaky underground storage tanks containing benzene and other cancer-causing substances would be removed and trucked away.
The cleanup of the site was originally supposed to be done in conjunction with construction of a new store. Instead, Bogdaski said the site would be covered with two feet of clean fill in preparation for potential development."
There are plenty of recaps of the meeting, but the Post's was the first out there, so:
"John Bogdaski, an environmental consultant for Whole Foods, told members of Brooklyn Community Board 6’s environmental committee last night that site preparation work for cleanup of the two-acre site at Third Avenue and Third Street began earlier this month and that it should be decontaminated and ready for future development by the end of April.The problem is Whole Foods is still trying to salvage the store-part of the project by finding development partners, although Bogdaski said the chain “is still committed” to building the supermarket.
He said in the coming weeks contaminated soil and three leaky underground storage tanks containing benzene and other cancer-causing substances would be removed and trucked away.
The cleanup of the site was originally supposed to be done in conjunction with construction of a new store. Instead, Bogdaski said the site would be covered with two feet of clean fill in preparation for potential development."
Monday, February 22, 2010
New Concrete Plant in Red Hook: Why The Controversy?
As humans, we are very protective of our environment, and feel powerless when we can't control it. Unfortunately, that doesn't always work when we're discussing property that is owned by someone else, and is zoned for something that we don't want to see. The new U.S. Concrete plant in Red Hook is a perfect example of this.
First there was the Times article about concerns of air quality, where they chronicled certain residents fears (founded or unfounded) and opinions that perhaps Red Hook, of all places, was more appropriate for apartments than for heavy industry, because of it's waterfront location. Why did this article not mention that water-borne transportation is some of the greenest transportation that you can find, taking trucks off of the streets with every barge delivery, making Red Hook and Gowanus MORE suitable for heavy industry than nearly any other neighborhood? There is a reason so many concrete plants are along the Gowanus and waterfront, and thus, why those areas are zoned for heavy industry.
Next came A View From the Hook's coverage of the same, which postulated many of the same points as the article, but added perceived impacts on schools athletic departments and recreational facilities. As someone who has participated in innumerable Saturday and Sunday soccer games in Red Hook, I can tell you that the Red Hook fields, which are in decidedly mediocre condition, are some of the most picturesque in the city. Other fields around the city are immediately adjacent to, or built on top of, landfills, slaughterhouses, highways and rail yards. Before raising specific concerns about this specific location, perhaps zoning regulations should be implemented city wide which mandate a certain distance from heavy industry that a ball field must be. But that would require some foresight.
Now comes Explain the Plan's update on the situation. And finally, we hear a voice of reason, from, as usual, Community Board 6's District Manager, Craig Hammerman:
"“Local zoning allows the cement plant to operate,” said Craig Hammerman, manager of Red Hook’s Community Board 6. “All they need to do is apply and get permits.”"
In zoning codes, there exist what are called performance standards for special permits, conditional uses, special uses, or whatever your local jurisdiction might call them. They are uses which are permitted, but only once you have met certain criteria; additional setbacks, environmental mitigation, buffers, hours of operation, etc... These standards allow uses which are maybe not ideal, but feasible, to be permitted, with these additional conditions or level of review.
Since U.S. Concrete has seemingly met every level of review asked of them, they have every legal right to open for business. If the 600 residents who were so opposed to this plant are committed to the effort, they will need to be involved with PlanNYC's air quality monitoring or in crafting regulations which would keep things like this happening in the future. Of course, if one more area of city is not zoned for industry, where will all of the industry go? Will Brooklyn become a sea of condos and fro-yo shops?
Photo source: CUNY Journalism Department
First there was the Times article about concerns of air quality, where they chronicled certain residents fears (founded or unfounded) and opinions that perhaps Red Hook, of all places, was more appropriate for apartments than for heavy industry, because of it's waterfront location. Why did this article not mention that water-borne transportation is some of the greenest transportation that you can find, taking trucks off of the streets with every barge delivery, making Red Hook and Gowanus MORE suitable for heavy industry than nearly any other neighborhood? There is a reason so many concrete plants are along the Gowanus and waterfront, and thus, why those areas are zoned for heavy industry.Next came A View From the Hook's coverage of the same, which postulated many of the same points as the article, but added perceived impacts on schools athletic departments and recreational facilities. As someone who has participated in innumerable Saturday and Sunday soccer games in Red Hook, I can tell you that the Red Hook fields, which are in decidedly mediocre condition, are some of the most picturesque in the city. Other fields around the city are immediately adjacent to, or built on top of, landfills, slaughterhouses, highways and rail yards. Before raising specific concerns about this specific location, perhaps zoning regulations should be implemented city wide which mandate a certain distance from heavy industry that a ball field must be. But that would require some foresight.
Now comes Explain the Plan's update on the situation. And finally, we hear a voice of reason, from, as usual, Community Board 6's District Manager, Craig Hammerman:
"“Local zoning allows the cement plant to operate,” said Craig Hammerman, manager of Red Hook’s Community Board 6. “All they need to do is apply and get permits.”"
In zoning codes, there exist what are called performance standards for special permits, conditional uses, special uses, or whatever your local jurisdiction might call them. They are uses which are permitted, but only once you have met certain criteria; additional setbacks, environmental mitigation, buffers, hours of operation, etc... These standards allow uses which are maybe not ideal, but feasible, to be permitted, with these additional conditions or level of review.
Since U.S. Concrete has seemingly met every level of review asked of them, they have every legal right to open for business. If the 600 residents who were so opposed to this plant are committed to the effort, they will need to be involved with PlanNYC's air quality monitoring or in crafting regulations which would keep things like this happening in the future. Of course, if one more area of city is not zoned for industry, where will all of the industry go? Will Brooklyn become a sea of condos and fro-yo shops?
Photo source: CUNY Journalism Department
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Charles Carroll: Our Namesake?
Most people know that Carroll Gardens is named after Charles Carroll of Carrollton, the only Catholic signer of the Declaration of Independence. But who exactly is Mr. Carroll? Fans of Nicholas Cage action movies will probably identify him as an obscure Mason who passed down a secret held by Mr. Cage's character's family for centuries. Shockingly, this is not the truth!
Neither obscure, nor a Mason, the third in a line of four Charles Carrolls to settle in Maryland, Mr. Carroll signed the Declaration of Independence and lived a long, long life. He died in 1832 at the ripe old age of 95, after amassing a fortune and overseeing the construction of many estates and buildings in and around Maryland, include one of the main buildings at the Johns Hopkins campus.
So, what is Mr. Carroll's connection to Carroll Gardens? Well, turns out...not much. Much like other historically important figures (two good examples from our time would be Malcolm X and President John Fitzgerald Kennedy), locations, schools and streets are named after Charles Carroll, without any direct connection to him.
Since this area of Brooklyn used to be known as South Brooklyn (a name that dates back from the time when this was the southernmost extent of the town of Brooklyn), the name Carroll Gardens is relatively recent, and is really just an amalgamation of the signature gardens designed by Richard Butts and the prominence of Carroll Park. What is funny about this is that most of the other streets in the neighborhood were named after prominent local families or individuals; Sackett, Hoyt, Henry, Clinton, Hicks.
So why is it that we don't live in Sackett Gardens, or Hoyt Gardens? Probably the same reason that this area isn't referred to as "Marbury Towers".
Image Source: University of Maryland Archives
Neither obscure, nor a Mason, the third in a line of four Charles Carrolls to settle in Maryland, Mr. Carroll signed the Declaration of Independence and lived a long, long life. He died in 1832 at the ripe old age of 95, after amassing a fortune and overseeing the construction of many estates and buildings in and around Maryland, include one of the main buildings at the Johns Hopkins campus.So, what is Mr. Carroll's connection to Carroll Gardens? Well, turns out...not much. Much like other historically important figures (two good examples from our time would be Malcolm X and President John Fitzgerald Kennedy), locations, schools and streets are named after Charles Carroll, without any direct connection to him.
Since this area of Brooklyn used to be known as South Brooklyn (a name that dates back from the time when this was the southernmost extent of the town of Brooklyn), the name Carroll Gardens is relatively recent, and is really just an amalgamation of the signature gardens designed by Richard Butts and the prominence of Carroll Park. What is funny about this is that most of the other streets in the neighborhood were named after prominent local families or individuals; Sackett, Hoyt, Henry, Clinton, Hicks.
So why is it that we don't live in Sackett Gardens, or Hoyt Gardens? Probably the same reason that this area isn't referred to as "Marbury Towers".
Image Source: University of Maryland Archives
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Carroll Gardens Residents Love to Work
The Grocery, one of the first great restaurants which turned Smith Street into Brooklyn's Restaurant Row, is run by the husband and wife team of Sharon Pachter and Charles Kiely, who are also neighborhood residents. The New York Post did a nice little article which featured them for Valentines Day:
"In Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, restaurant owners and chefs Charles Kiely and wife Sharon Pachter say their personal experiences drive them at the Grocery, on Smith St., which is across the street from their apartment.
The menu changes nightly at the charming little spot, but the rule for the couple in the kitchen has stayed constant for a decade. "Everything is a negotiation," says Kiely, "when it comes to every decision, whether it's to do with the kitchen, recipes, plating a dish, portion size or running the restaurant."
One of their newer negotiations involves caring for the six chickens they adopted last June (but that's another story). "We're both strong-headed and opinionated," says Pachter. "Because of that negotiation, we come up with the best solution."
"People look at the way we work and can't believe that for 10 years we've spent all days and nights together," she adds. "One of the secrets — we take turns giving in.""
One lovely feature about The Grocery is their personalized service from this couple, who often come out table side to deliver their creations.
Image from Brownstoner. Wrote this on Sunday, but Diana got it up first, so check out Cobble Hill Blog.
"In Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, restaurant owners and chefs Charles Kiely and wife Sharon Pachter say their personal experiences drive them at the Grocery, on Smith St., which is across the street from their apartment. The menu changes nightly at the charming little spot, but the rule for the couple in the kitchen has stayed constant for a decade. "Everything is a negotiation," says Kiely, "when it comes to every decision, whether it's to do with the kitchen, recipes, plating a dish, portion size or running the restaurant."
One of their newer negotiations involves caring for the six chickens they adopted last June (but that's another story). "We're both strong-headed and opinionated," says Pachter. "Because of that negotiation, we come up with the best solution."
"People look at the way we work and can't believe that for 10 years we've spent all days and nights together," she adds. "One of the secrets — we take turns giving in.""
One lovely feature about The Grocery is their personalized service from this couple, who often come out table side to deliver their creations.
Image from Brownstoner. Wrote this on Sunday, but Diana got it up first, so check out Cobble Hill Blog.
Ferdinando's Foccaceria
Edible Manhattan chose Ferdinando's Foccaceria as it's location to interview King Phojanakong, the Brooklyn Chef behind Asian tapas. An interesting location choice, but one that gets at my heart strings. Francesco is from Carini, the town close to Palermo that my family originates from. I played soccer with Francesco's son, Christian, in high school, and it is also one of the few places left in the neighborhood where you can still get panelle, vastedde and frutta di mare.
"Francesco Buffa, the Sicily-born chef and owner, grew up cooking his childhood chow, like the street food favorite vastedda (spleen served with ricotta and a sprinkle of pecorino Romano, all stuffed between fresh focaccia), and naturally turned his passion for his cuisine into a local eatery.
We ordered the arancina special, a breaded rice ball filled with a brawny amount of chopped meat and peas, fried to a crispy blond shade and topped with just enough red sauce to fill the plate. The chickpea panelle (that’s a chickpea flour fritter) sandwich was also brilliantly fried, but it was then topped with a spoonful of ricotta and grated cheese and nestled ever so gently in focaccia.
We also had the pasta con sarde, a straightforward spaghetti noodle, but with a foreign-to-me flavor combination of sardines with wild fennel, pignoli (Italian for pine nuts), raisin and spices."
In recent years, Francesco (who also is a landlord in the area) has tried to make some improvements to the business, including an expanded wine selection and a back garden. However, it seems like the clientele are still the same. Which is good for us, but not necessarily great for the future of the business.
via Word on Columbia Street.
"Francesco Buffa, the Sicily-born chef and owner, grew up cooking his childhood chow, like the street food favorite vastedda (spleen served with ricotta and a sprinkle of pecorino Romano, all stuffed between fresh focaccia), and naturally turned his passion for his cuisine into a local eatery.We ordered the arancina special, a breaded rice ball filled with a brawny amount of chopped meat and peas, fried to a crispy blond shade and topped with just enough red sauce to fill the plate. The chickpea panelle (that’s a chickpea flour fritter) sandwich was also brilliantly fried, but it was then topped with a spoonful of ricotta and grated cheese and nestled ever so gently in focaccia.
We also had the pasta con sarde, a straightforward spaghetti noodle, but with a foreign-to-me flavor combination of sardines with wild fennel, pignoli (Italian for pine nuts), raisin and spices."
In recent years, Francesco (who also is a landlord in the area) has tried to make some improvements to the business, including an expanded wine selection and a back garden. However, it seems like the clientele are still the same. Which is good for us, but not necessarily great for the future of the business.
via Word on Columbia Street.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Hey Marty: Brooklyn is not Manhattan
Brooklyn Borough President Marty Markowitz is nothing if not the eternal optimist. Thrice during my years in New York's public schools, Marty gave the same speech to graduates, always ending with the unsheathing of a plastic light saber and an exclamation of "May the Force Be With You!"* His openness with his personal life and his efforts to seem in touch with the "everyman" are to be commended.
However, some of his recent comments are a bit shocking. First, he shamefully stopped the Prospect Park West bike lane plan. Maybe he thought Prospect Park West ran through Williamsburg or Borough Park? Now, he is vying (unrealistically) to turn Fourth Avenue into "Brooklyn's Park Avenue". From the New York Post:
"“I have long imagined this bleak stretch of road transformed into something reminiscent of the tree-lined portion of Park Avenue on Manhattan’s Upper East Side,” Markowitz gushed. “My hope is … for a stunning thoroughfare reaching from Atlantic Avenue to the Atlantic Ocean!”
Along with the floral additions to Fourth Avenue, Markowitz’s vision includes a revitalization of the area through street furniture (a la Times Square), wide pedestrian walkways and space for vendors.
Still, it is unclear how feasible the facelift is, given that there is almost no room for tree roots under the sidewalk, which is above a series of shallow subway tracks."
Keeping in mind that architecture students love to dream big, but apparently have no regard for the feasibility of their big dreams, we've heard this before, in reference to the Fourth Avenue rezoning.
But doesn't every city need a place for auto-body repair and chop shops, or even light industrial uses? Surely the residents of the new towers on Fourth would be none to appreciative of the bachata music coming from a 24-hour flat fix shop at 3 am!
* Anyone else wonder if the proper response is "And also with you"?
However, some of his recent comments are a bit shocking. First, he shamefully stopped the Prospect Park West bike lane plan. Maybe he thought Prospect Park West ran through Williamsburg or Borough Park? Now, he is vying (unrealistically) to turn Fourth Avenue into "Brooklyn's Park Avenue". From the New York Post:
"“I have long imagined this bleak stretch of road transformed into something reminiscent of the tree-lined portion of Park Avenue on Manhattan’s Upper East Side,” Markowitz gushed. “My hope is … for a stunning thoroughfare reaching from Atlantic Avenue to the Atlantic Ocean!”Along with the floral additions to Fourth Avenue, Markowitz’s vision includes a revitalization of the area through street furniture (a la Times Square), wide pedestrian walkways and space for vendors.
Still, it is unclear how feasible the facelift is, given that there is almost no room for tree roots under the sidewalk, which is above a series of shallow subway tracks."
Keeping in mind that architecture students love to dream big, but apparently have no regard for the feasibility of their big dreams, we've heard this before, in reference to the Fourth Avenue rezoning.
But doesn't every city need a place for auto-body repair and chop shops, or even light industrial uses? Surely the residents of the new towers on Fourth would be none to appreciative of the bachata music coming from a 24-hour flat fix shop at 3 am!
* Anyone else wonder if the proper response is "And also with you"?
Old St. Mary's School Gets Recycled
While using hundred-year-old farming tools to dig my car out of the recent snowfall, I thought that to be the ultimate in "repurposing". However, the Brooklyn Eagle is reporting that the old St. Mary Star of the Sea school on Court Street will now house the International School of Brooklyn, a specialized bi-lingual primary school.
"ISB was launched by Dr. Habiba Boumlik and Executive Director Rebecca Skinner in March 2003. “We are thrilled to once again expand ISB to reach our goals for growth and development and to continue to meet the needs of Brooklyn families for quality education with a global outlook,” said Skinner. The new location is scheduled to open its doors to pre-K through fourth grade students in September."
Although I am excited at the bi-lingual mandate of this school, another vestige of Old Carroll Gardens bites the dust.
via Brownstoner.
"ISB was launched by Dr. Habiba Boumlik and Executive Director Rebecca Skinner in March 2003. “We are thrilled to once again expand ISB to reach our goals for growth and development and to continue to meet the needs of Brooklyn families for quality education with a global outlook,” said Skinner. The new location is scheduled to open its doors to pre-K through fourth grade students in September."
Although I am excited at the bi-lingual mandate of this school, another vestige of Old Carroll Gardens bites the dust.
via Brownstoner.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Sewer Pipes in the Gowanus Canal?
Does anyone have any idea what exactly these huge pipes are doing floating the Gowanus Canal, moored to a bulkhead like some Mary, Queen of Sewers? It appears that they are closed at either end, which keep them airtight and afloat, but are they for some sort of city project? Perhaps something to do with the EPA's ongoing tests for possible Superfund Designation? Seems like a small amount of pipe to have to find space to store.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Luna Rossa: A Good Excuse To Walk South Down Court Street
I love a good excuse to walk south down Court Street. My brother's apartment off 4th Place just doesn't cut it sometimes. I need to go further. I need the streets to quiet down; I need some of the "hip" to go away for a second.
On Friday night, with a little bit of rum in our bellies, my boyfriend, Michael, and I braved the chill and walked to Luna Rossa for a late dinner. This authentic Italian restaurant is understandably overlooked as it's quite far down, kissing the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, but after our meal there we both felt it deserved some blog recognition. Because Luna Rossa is GOOD. Eying a menu of Neapolitan dishes, wood-burnt brick oven pizzas, and a reasonably priced wine list, we didn't hold back.
The answer is always "No" when I ask Michael if he'd like to share a salad with me. It's always just a little bit heartbreaking. So when he looked at me and suggested we try the Beets (under Salads on the menu), my heart fluttered and that's when I knew we should order some wine. I felt like celebrating the Beet. This dish should have been called "Beets Surprise!" because they were kept secret by a gorgeous mountain of crunchy, fresh string beans mixed with wisps of red onion, squeezed with lemon and drizzled with olive oil. We shared this dish and that was fine, but I probably could have eaten the whole plate on my own. It was a perfect palate cleanse before the pizza hit the table.
With fourteen pizza amalgamations to choose from, we settled on the Diavola pizza (mozzarella, tomato sauce, hot sausage and chili flakes). Michael likes meat; I like a kick. (Thankfully, we can always agree on pizza.) The pie was quartered when it arrived and after all those string beans, I was guilt-free and happy to indulge in two fatty slices. Not "fatty-greasy" - more "fatty-wide." The crust was thin and chewy, beautifully charred, hot, and I'm telling you - delicious. Mind you, this is coming from a pizza snob who believes no one can (or should!) compete with Di Fara Pizza on Avenue J...but for the un-snobby, go right ahead and treat yourself to an impressive little pie here.
Next up was the gnocchi served alla Sorrentina in a little bowl with melted mozzarella, tomato sauce, and basil - aka: a little pit stop in heaven. Granted there was nothing special about the tomato sauce...but sometimes there doesn't need to be, you know?
Luna Rossa boasted an ambiance of true coziness with its warm brick walls, soft Italian music, and lots of old framed photographs. Our waiter was kind and lovely although he had a hard time recommending the best dish. "Everything is great," he said. At the time, we were frustrated by his response but perhaps everything is great. I'd believe it now.
Luna Rossa
552 Court Street bet/ West 9th and Garnet St.
(718) 875-1384
www.lunarossabrooklyn.com
On Friday night, with a little bit of rum in our bellies, my boyfriend, Michael, and I braved the chill and walked to Luna Rossa for a late dinner. This authentic Italian restaurant is understandably overlooked as it's quite far down, kissing the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, but after our meal there we both felt it deserved some blog recognition. Because Luna Rossa is GOOD. Eying a menu of Neapolitan dishes, wood-burnt brick oven pizzas, and a reasonably priced wine list, we didn't hold back.The answer is always "No" when I ask Michael if he'd like to share a salad with me. It's always just a little bit heartbreaking. So when he looked at me and suggested we try the Beets (under Salads on the menu), my heart fluttered and that's when I knew we should order some wine. I felt like celebrating the Beet. This dish should have been called "Beets Surprise!" because they were kept secret by a gorgeous mountain of crunchy, fresh string beans mixed with wisps of red onion, squeezed with lemon and drizzled with olive oil. We shared this dish and that was fine, but I probably could have eaten the whole plate on my own. It was a perfect palate cleanse before the pizza hit the table.
With fourteen pizza amalgamations to choose from, we settled on the Diavola pizza (mozzarella, tomato sauce, hot sausage and chili flakes). Michael likes meat; I like a kick. (Thankfully, we can always agree on pizza.) The pie was quartered when it arrived and after all those string beans, I was guilt-free and happy to indulge in two fatty slices. Not "fatty-greasy" - more "fatty-wide." The crust was thin and chewy, beautifully charred, hot, and I'm telling you - delicious. Mind you, this is coming from a pizza snob who believes no one can (or should!) compete with Di Fara Pizza on Avenue J...but for the un-snobby, go right ahead and treat yourself to an impressive little pie here.
Next up was the gnocchi served alla Sorrentina in a little bowl with melted mozzarella, tomato sauce, and basil - aka: a little pit stop in heaven. Granted there was nothing special about the tomato sauce...but sometimes there doesn't need to be, you know?
Luna Rossa
552 Court Street bet/ West 9th and Garnet St.
(718) 875-1384
www.lunarossabrooklyn.com
Monday, February 8, 2010
Carroll Gardens Own Activist
The Observer has a nice profile on Carroll Gardens' own Linda Mariano. Although the characterization as a later-day Jane Jacobs is certainly lacking, the article does provide a sample of Ms. Mariano's efforts to promote Superfund Designation of the Gowanus Canal.
"With her husband, Joseph, Ms. Mariano has for 36 years been living in a brownstone on President Street, between Bond and Hoyt, an area she considers to be in Gowanus, the nascent neighborhood between Carroll Gardens and Park Slope. Both artists and retired teachers, the couple moved to the area from the West Village in 1974, well before this part of Brooklyn was hip (or particularly safe). Over the years they have built up their formerly dilapidated building into a do-it-yourself artists' dream home. Upstairs rooms are jam-packed with paint, canvases and quilting materials, while the lower area, centered around a cozy kitchen, is a utilitarian gallery of colorful recycled materials and found objects, from doors to floor tiles.
Ms. Mariano has a special passion for industrial architecture and historic buildings—after three decades in the neighborhood, she senses the character and appeal that the warehouses bring and the creative, artistic types that such spaces attract—a recipe for the conditions that eventually lead to New York's ubiquitous neighborhood gentrification. The unique character of a neighborhood like Gowanus has a particularly Jane Jacobs–y appeal: one where residential, light industrial and commercial spaces all interact to create a varied and diverse population (although now it's admittedly gentrified, not unlike Jacobs' own Greenwich Village).
"I'm a preservation person at heart," Ms. Mariano said, "and I believe in this phrase people are starting to use, 'adaptive re-use,' and this is about just that." She pauses reflectively, fingering the beads on one of the colorful Bakelite necklaces she often sports along with her handmade knitwear. "These buildings can be used rather than torn down.""
Also at PMFA and FIB, who also has the photo credit.
"With her husband, Joseph, Ms. Mariano has for 36 years been living in a brownstone on President Street, between Bond and Hoyt, an area she considers to be in Gowanus, the nascent neighborhood between Carroll Gardens and Park Slope. Both artists and retired teachers, the couple moved to the area from the West Village in 1974, well before this part of Brooklyn was hip (or particularly safe). Over the years they have built up their formerly dilapidated building into a do-it-yourself artists' dream home. Upstairs rooms are jam-packed with paint, canvases and quilting materials, while the lower area, centered around a cozy kitchen, is a utilitarian gallery of colorful recycled materials and found objects, from doors to floor tiles.Ms. Mariano has a special passion for industrial architecture and historic buildings—after three decades in the neighborhood, she senses the character and appeal that the warehouses bring and the creative, artistic types that such spaces attract—a recipe for the conditions that eventually lead to New York's ubiquitous neighborhood gentrification. The unique character of a neighborhood like Gowanus has a particularly Jane Jacobs–y appeal: one where residential, light industrial and commercial spaces all interact to create a varied and diverse population (although now it's admittedly gentrified, not unlike Jacobs' own Greenwich Village).
"I'm a preservation person at heart," Ms. Mariano said, "and I believe in this phrase people are starting to use, 'adaptive re-use,' and this is about just that." She pauses reflectively, fingering the beads on one of the colorful Bakelite necklaces she often sports along with her handmade knitwear. "These buildings can be used rather than torn down.""
Also at PMFA and FIB, who also has the photo credit.
Court Street Fence Raided
The Court Street office of Cobble Hill Car Service has apparently been functioning as a fence for stolen electronic goods. Does this really surprise anyone? From Courier-Life:
"Investigators executed a search warrant at the Cobble Hill Car Service near the corner of Court and Douglass streets on February 2 after learning that workers were allegedly both buying and selling stolen electronics such as portable GPS devices. It’s believed that the electronics had been taken from cars in the neighborhood.
Police said that one car service employee was arrested, charged with criminal possession of stolen property.
The raid took place after several undercover buys were held at the local business, officials said."
Police said that one car service employee was arrested, charged with criminal possession of stolen property.
The raid took place after several undercover buys were held at the local business, officials said."
Friday, February 5, 2010
Vincent Raccuglia of Raccuglia and Son Funeral Home
If Caputo bread bags are one of the more recognizable items in Carroll Gardens, then Vincent Raccuglia is one of the more recognizable faces. He's that handsome, older Italian gentleman who dons slacks and a fedora, tipping it to say "Hello, neighbor" when someone familiar rounds the corner.
The corner is Court and Sackett, and Vincent has been running it for years. When I blow in from the cold one morning, I ask him how he's doing. Vincent kisses my hand and doesn't hesitate. "Nice. Just like the way you look."
I flashback to his father, Philip Raccuglia, in the late 80s, early 90s, sitting outside the funeral home, watching cars from a folding chair, wearing the same fedora, smoking his cigar, and biting down on it to give me a wink.
Charmers, those Raccuglia men. Like the flaws in your sidewalk, some things just remind you of home.
This home - the Raccuglia and Son Funeral Home - opened its doors in March of 1974. I always thought it was a family business that began with Philip but in actuality it was Vincent who started it all. A relative newcomer, unlike the faction of neighborhood funeral homes that had seen nearly two generations already passed down, Vincent's concentrated curiosity in this particular line of work came from within. Philip Raccuglia was actually a longshoreman whose Red Hook pier happened to close up around the time Vincent began needing renovations done on the building.
"My father - he oversaw the top of this block," Vincent says. "And you remember that!"
He likes that. I like that he likes that.
"If someone drove up and had to go to the medical center or something... it was 'Leave the car here! We'll watch your car.' That was my father. His friends - his fellow longshoremen - they, too, were now out of work. They would see my father sitting off the corner and they'd say 'Hey Philly! Whaddya doing?' And my father would say, "Oh, my son..." and before you knew it - one guy was demolishing, one guy was plastering, one guy was painting. I had the longshoremen - skilled men - doing everything you see here for free. They did it for free, Sylvie!"
I think there may have been some rice balls from the foccaceria thrown in but even so. "It's a beautiful thing," I say.
"I was blessed," he gravely nods, seemingly still caught in disbelief. "I'm telling you, baby, you can't make this up."
Before Vincent was met with the opportunity to acquire 323 Court Street, he spent the 60s learning everything he could about the business.
Vincent's son, Philip, lives above the funeral home with his children and family. He is a licensed funeral director, undertaker, and mortician but most important, he possesses that human factor. "Go to any church in the neighborhood and they'll tell you who was dressed in a little suit, walking down aisles and collecting, already building human relations," Vincent beams.
The walls are adorned - absolutely festooned - with bronze and copper plaques, framed photographs and letters - all expressing appreciation and gratitude for the Raccuglia's tender manner with grieving families.
"Quite often, when I serve a family, I don't let them go home when they've got a break between wake and burial. I say 'You stay here and my sister and my mother - we'll make something for you.' And we bring them rice balls and panelles from the focacceria."
For Vincent (and myself!), this is what makes Carroll Gardens so special. Our area has certainly changed over the years, but we're still a neighborhood that has evolved into that heritage of people who look out for each other.
Raccuglia & Son Funeral Home
323 Court Street b/w DeGraw and Sackett
718-855-7737
More by Sylvie Morgan Flatow
Photos by Max Flatow
The corner is Court and Sackett, and Vincent has been running it for years. When I blow in from the cold one morning, I ask him how he's doing. Vincent kisses my hand and doesn't hesitate. "Nice. Just like the way you look." I flashback to his father, Philip Raccuglia, in the late 80s, early 90s, sitting outside the funeral home, watching cars from a folding chair, wearing the same fedora, smoking his cigar, and biting down on it to give me a wink.
Charmers, those Raccuglia men. Like the flaws in your sidewalk, some things just remind you of home.
This home - the Raccuglia and Son Funeral Home - opened its doors in March of 1974. I always thought it was a family business that began with Philip but in actuality it was Vincent who started it all. A relative newcomer, unlike the faction of neighborhood funeral homes that had seen nearly two generations already passed down, Vincent's concentrated curiosity in this particular line of work came from within. Philip Raccuglia was actually a longshoreman whose Red Hook pier happened to close up around the time Vincent began needing renovations done on the building.
"My father - he oversaw the top of this block," Vincent says. "And you remember that!"
He likes that. I like that he likes that.
"If someone drove up and had to go to the medical center or something... it was 'Leave the car here! We'll watch your car.' That was my father. His friends - his fellow longshoremen - they, too, were now out of work. They would see my father sitting off the corner and they'd say 'Hey Philly! Whaddya doing?' And my father would say, "Oh, my son..." and before you knew it - one guy was demolishing, one guy was plastering, one guy was painting. I had the longshoremen - skilled men - doing everything you see here for free. They did it for free, Sylvie!"
I think there may have been some rice balls from the foccaceria thrown in but even so. "It's a beautiful thing," I say.
"I was blessed," he gravely nods, seemingly still caught in disbelief. "I'm telling you, baby, you can't make this up."
"Actually, I don't like to say 'business,'" he corrects the both of us. "Back then, it was an evolution of family service. You didn't know an undertaker who just opened up a funeral home across the street from the dry cleaners store," he says, dryly. "But it was in the early part of the 60s that I found something that meant a great deal to me - this profession and this life that it becomes," Vincent says.
Choosing his words carefully, he continues. "In 1963, I got blessed. Got knocked out for a while. When I woke up, things were different in the neighborhood." I have one eyebrow raised, waiting for him to elaborate. He knows I'm waiting, but still he says, "I got blessed. Things were different."
Vincent then did what he could to gain the knowledge. He went to mortuary school, served an apprenticeship with Riverside Memorial Chapel (originally operated by a family - the Rosenthals), and took jobs at all the various funeral homes in our beloved Carroll Gardens/Cobble Hill neighborhood such as Scotto's and Guido's and Cusimano's. He was dedicated to all of his jobs and stayed after hours just to keep learning. It wasn't rare for Vincent to relieve somebody who had worked a long day. They could nap while he answered phones. He was a pallbearer, a driver, a funeral director, a cosmetician, an embalmer - jobs that were very relative to serving the people. But what Vincent had - and what he insists the Raccuglia family always had ("My mother's a saint! My sister's a nun!") - was the human factor. Vincent points to his heart and says, "That comes from here."
Vincent's son, Philip, lives above the funeral home with his children and family. He is a licensed funeral director, undertaker, and mortician but most important, he possesses that human factor. "Go to any church in the neighborhood and they'll tell you who was dressed in a little suit, walking down aisles and collecting, already building human relations," Vincent beams.A man from outside the parlor walks in. Vincent introduces him to me.
"This gentleman here? He's a neighbor on the block. When there's a funeral, he shows up at 5 o'clock, 6 o'clock in the morning. He comes to assist us. Very loyal. We have to get things done early around here. You can't say 'Vincent or Philip don't feel too good, they got the sniffles, they'll do it tomorrow' - no, you can't do that because there's no margin for error. And then people know that when you show them the human factor, that some things can go to the right or to the left in the presentation and conduct of a funeral."
"This gentleman here? He's a neighbor on the block. When there's a funeral, he shows up at 5 o'clock, 6 o'clock in the morning. He comes to assist us. Very loyal. We have to get things done early around here. You can't say 'Vincent or Philip don't feel too good, they got the sniffles, they'll do it tomorrow' - no, you can't do that because there's no margin for error. And then people know that when you show them the human factor, that some things can go to the right or to the left in the presentation and conduct of a funeral."
The walls are adorned - absolutely festooned - with bronze and copper plaques, framed photographs and letters - all expressing appreciation and gratitude for the Raccuglia's tender manner with grieving families.
"Quite often, when I serve a family, I don't let them go home when they've got a break between wake and burial. I say 'You stay here and my sister and my mother - we'll make something for you.' And we bring them rice balls and panelles from the focacceria."
For Vincent (and myself!), this is what makes Carroll Gardens so special. Our area has certainly changed over the years, but we're still a neighborhood that has evolved into that heritage of people who look out for each other.And in the end, that's what counts.
Here's to tipping our hats and saying "Hello, neighbor."
Here's to tipping our hats and saying "Hello, neighbor."
Raccuglia & Son Funeral Home
323 Court Street b/w DeGraw and Sackett
718-855-7737
More by Sylvie Morgan Flatow
Photos by Max Flatow
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