"Hot Bird was ahead of it time in a very small space on Vanderbilt Avenue the store fron sold inexpensive rotissary chicken and it was very good. T ... more -->
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Friday, August 29, 2008
Salvation, Not Squalor
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Prince Lefferts Hotel
The rooms at the Prince Lefferts Hotel are shockingly spacious, the color scheme gradating from charmingly weird navy blue and gold paisley to charcoal black and banana yellow moulding. The towels are too rough and the check-in men too flirtatious. They don't take credit cards but the handy bodega down the street will gladly charge your debit card an ATM fee, allowing you to interact with your fellow gum-snapping, slow-walking compatriots and the Franklin Ave C and Shuttle are just a handy block or so away. Cats are allowed. In my spacious single, there was a gigantic TV, gigantic bed, a mini refrigerator, extraneous rolls of toilet paper on the plastic-covered table, dresser and mirror, fan and AC and out of the not-unappealing tackiness of it all, a very pretty Impressionist painting hanging on the wall. Bedbug-free, benign of quietude, a good semi-luxurious place to spend $80 for a night off the town--in Bed-Stuy, not Clinton Hill.
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Thursday, August 28, 2008
Insane In The Membrane!
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Palace Café
Bang your head. Mental health will drive you mad. So will the Palace Café if you're not careful. The cheap drinks are a nice draw, the people watching is stellar (think old dudes in leather vests versus hipsters in leather vests), but your cranium may be ringing after 17 Ozzie songs in a row blare from the juke. Maybe I'm just getting old and cranky, but I've recently limited my intake to 13 Ozzie songs per day (the recommended dosage prescribed by my otolaryngologist). If you can stand the noize, get ready for some free finger food every Monday as we draw closer to MNF season (translation: autumn). The Palace sure knows how to entice its target audience. Just give them some football. And greasy, artery-clogging food. And heavy metal. So please go to the Palace Café on Mondays this fall and revel in the glory of our great nation. But don't look for me. I'll be at home sipping a white wine spritzer listening to Obama's latest book on tape...
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Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Welcome To The Jungle/Circus
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The Brooklyn Circus
A circus... why a circus? "If you think about it, Brooklyn is kinda a circus." Thus spake BKC's resident DJ and man-of-many-trades, Kohey, and he had a point: the borough of Kings is pretty wild. Hence the clientele, a mix from around the way and the world both. You can spot their graphic tees on everyone from kids in the Wyckoff Houses to Japanese tourists, hipsters in Nike SBs to real lovely ladies. Their steady growth in the crowded field of young high-end streetwear is a tribute to founder and head designer Ouigi's hard work and unique vision. Since launch, he has steadily developed a clothing and accessories line that is equal parts fresh and eclectic: they fit whether you're on the corner or at a gallery opening. So if you've ever thought about joining up with a circus, start here; the experience, as they say, is everything.
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Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Hibernian Hijinks
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Molly's
Only 203 (I think) days left until St. Patty's Day. But you don't need to fall for that marketing crap/hype when getting a strong dose of Irish food and drink is just a short subway ride away. Molly's Pub in Murray Hill is all Irish all the time. They don’t mess around just one day a year. From the sawdust on the floor to the wood burning fireplace, I dare you to find a cozier bar in this (godforsaken) part of Manhattan. The bartenders are the real deal: friendly, funny, and straight from the motherland. And if you're lucky they'll have some Irish sports up on the telly to complete the experience. Chow down on a monster burger or some massive fish and chips. The prices are a little much, but the Irish patrons paying in Euros won't mind. Thankfully the portions are huge, so split a burger, get a couple of pints of Guinness, and you'll still have something left over for that "Kiss Me I'm Irish" t-shirt you've been dying to get. Or better yet... one more Guinness.
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Friday, August 22, 2008
Love For The Imitation Meat
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Buddha Boddhai
Kosher, Chinese and seconds from the NFT office, Buddha Boddhai is more than just a Hasidic hangout, JewAsian magnet and cavern of seitan. That's right: Buddha Boddhai is a vegetarian restaurant where the food is not bad. Theoretically, I am told, it is not expensive but then again the Chinatown bakeries radiating from every direction around it sell ham and egg buns for less than a dollar. But I'm cool with the Buddha 'cause I enjoyed my flavorless wonton soup, the sweet and clean-tasting imitation meat slabs and tasty brown rice morsels. I'd like it all the better if it were free, but life was not meant for me to enjoy it, so in the meantime I say: Buddha XOXO.
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Archived Radars |
Meaningful Voyages
If there's one thing Rebecca knows, it's needless, interminable perambulating. Possessions will be mugged, blood will be spilled. Still, Rebecca soldiers on--from her humble Polish hood to the western tip of Long Island; her heart asunder, her mind a-scattered. Come! Join Rebecca on this gut-wrenching journey through the heart of Brooklyn, but also the mind.
Archived Features...
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