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Monthly Archives: July 2008

Am I the only Fort Greene/Clinton Hill-ite who feels a bit wigged out by all the film shoots taking place in the neighborhood these days?

I have walked past two or three of those on my way to work in the last three weeks, the latest occurrence being yesterday morning. And Bud Light is saving the best for last, planning not one but two film sets in the days to come. The inconvenience is mostly psychological to be fair but the increasing attention and scrutiny (cf Flea market debacle monitored by the likes of the Daily News and the New York Times) is slightly unsettling.

Did Fort Greene/Clinton Hill’s quality of life/neighborhoodyness peak 5 years ago? Two years ago? A year ago I was worried about ParkSlopization. Now my concern may be Disneyfication. Or is it zoofication? The every-hour-on-the-hour tourist buses that patrol Dekalb on weekends don’t help. Neither do the three police cars and six cops who handcuffed an admittedly drunk and clueless friend seconds after he peed on a Myrtle Ave. street corner a few weeks ago.

Can we get our obscure, unique, overlooked, under-rated, careless, equally interracial, equally mongrelized — did I say unknown – village back? Despite (or perhaps because of) the reluctance of cabbies in the good ole days,  the hood used to be sexier and cozier. It wasn’t even necessarily more dangerous,  judging from the latest heavily publicized spike in crime.

(Rant over. Back to happy-go-lucky Myrtle shuffling. )

There may have been lots of drama surrounding last Sunday’s Brooklyn Flea on Lafayette Avenue but it didn’t feel like that while I was there. The jewelry is by Melody’s Addiction.

The drama involves growing tensions between churchgoers of nearby Queen of All Saints Catholic church and flea market goers.
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Lauren who waitresses here explains that the owner has been collecting these lovely 50s fixtures for years. The spot used to be a popular diner in the 70s and 80s. Square Root is at the corner of Myrtle and Classon. There is a jazz brunch here on certain sundays.
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The new Italian restaurant at 37 Washington Ave, corner of Flushing, will open in early August. Italian comfort classics which most people expect (brick oven pizza, parmigiana, lasagna) will be on the menu but there will also be picks that expand the palate. A preliminary look at a preliminary menu shows reasonable prices.

Andrew Chew who managed Il Torchio through its opening and for most of its run has had a hand at creating the menu and will manage the new eatery. Chef Mario, one of Il Torchio’s former chefs, has also joined the venture. More soon.

Tomatoes
I love the american tapas at the General Greene, the new restaurant on Dekalb and Clermont, and am developing something of an addiction to their heirloom tomato salad. So simple (salt and olive oil) and yet so tasty. The white wine it goes best with is also the cheapest one on the menu, which can’t hurt. Of course when tomato season is here and the Farmers Market offers as many varieties of tomatoes as Carrie Bradshaw has shoes, I’ll prefer to eat my own.

Iceberg. Bacon.
The iceberg wedge plate may sound like a joke but it doesn’t taste like one. It is indeed a wedge of iceberg lettuce but how can anything taste less than succulent dressed in buttermilk and … Bacon. Oh and although I still haven’t tried their candied bacon I’ve definitely had their bacon dates.
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Have neglected Maggie Brown’s a bit on this blog. No more.
I remember being so happy when they first arrived on Myrtle. It is also where I celebrated Christmas one year that my sister was away. And where I mourned an important relationship. Since the bar there has seen my joys and my tears (literally), it deserves more of my love.
Meghan, Rashida and the other bartenders mix some great drinks too. Mojitos especially.
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I know this post is somewhat repetitive of last sunday’s. But the big difference is that I won nothing tonight.
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Hadn’t hung out on Fulton in a while so I am surprised to discover the many newish boutiques here. Pictured are Heartbeat and Supernova which are side by side on the strip.
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