The Laundromat With the Butcher's Sign

I was walking down Smith Street past the Red Rose restaurant, the old red-sauce joint for forty years standing, when a photograph in the window caught my eye. I'd never seen it before. It was a black-and-photo of the eatery from the '70s. The sign and and storefront were different back then. And there was a vertical "Pizza" above the restaurant, betraying the joint's now-forgotten heritage as a pizza place.

But that's not what interested me. I noticed the business to the north of the Red Rose, Martino Bros. Prime Meat Market. Long gone, of course, but the pale, metal sign looked oddly familiar.

So I walked about ten feet down the street and took a good look at the laundromat that had taken the place of Martino Bros. The sign was big, pale yellow and metal. Could it be it was the same damn sign the butcher had used?

I looked more closely. Sure enough. The owners of Smith Laundromat has just painted over the Martino Bros' letter and painted on their own name. Only they hadn't done so fantastic a job, so you can still see the outlines of some of the Martino letters, like "S," seen above.

The History of P.J. Hanley's, (Maybe) Brooklyn's Oldest Bar

Since word on the street (and in the bar itself) is that P.J. Hanley's of Carroll Gardens is to close its doors on Sunday, March 17, it is time to drop some final knowledge on the joint and remember what we are losing.

It's current Irish name notwithstanding, Hanley's is a rare local landmark that harkens back to the once-huge, local Norwegian population that inhabited South Brooklyn in the late 19th century and early 20th. It is by some accounts 139 years old, though I haven't been able to confirm this. I would submit that it is, instead, 133 years old at most, as there was, by news accounts, a grocery in this location. That grocery went out of business in 1879.

The bar was founded by a Norwegian gentlemen, whose name I've never been able to discover. It went the Irish pub way in 1898 after Jack Ryan bought it. He ran it for 60 years. Ryan was from Limerick and even while he ran the bar, it still attracted a partly Norwegian clientele. Some bartenders during this period spoke passable Norwegian and would help out newly arrived immigrants for Scandinavia with introductions and such. Mr. P.J. Hanley entered the picture in 1956, and he sold it to his two nieces in the mid-90s.

The place stayed open during Prohibition, keeping its windows blackened. Supposedly Al Capone met his wife here. That sounds like a tall tale to me. But Capone DID get married at the church down the street.

I haven't been a huge fan of the current incarnation of Hanley's. I've always felt they didn't take sufficient advantage of their heritage or make the most of the classic back bar and interior. But I hate to see it close. I hope someone else will take up the torch.

A Century of Growth

This is one of the mighty trees of Carroll Park that were felled by Hurricane Sandy. Much has been carved up and hauled away, but the base of the trunk remains. As I passed it the other day, I decided to do that thing they always tell you to do to determine a tree's age: count the rings. I spent a good amount of time. It wasn't easy, as some of the rings are very close together. So I didn't get an accurate count. But I can safely say this tree was more than 100 years old. Very moving to think of all the local history is witnessed in those years.

Carroll Park Suffers a Loss

Carroll Gardens weathered Hurricane Sandy fairly well. Compared the ravages suffered by Red Hook, in fact, if got off pretty much scot free. But it did suffer one major loss which will be felt by the whole community.

Carroll Park is the beating, green heart of the Brooklyn neighborhood. The small park takes up only one square block, but it has deep roots. It's actually the third oldest park in the city. A sign of its age can be seen in the height and width of its mammoth trees. Four very large trees adorn the park's central circle, and two enormous ones interrupt the pavement on the nearby basketball courts and baseball diamonds. Most are London plain trees, and they are beautiful.

There was another tree in a fenced off green area. Kids frequently played around it when they climbed on the nearby "Clinton Rock," a boulder that was dug up on Clinton Street a decade ago and placed in the park. It came down during Sandy and smashed a good section of chain link fence. The park is closed for now, until the mess can be cleared. Another large, wonderfully gnarled tree on President Street, just outside the border of the park, also toppled and was carved up and taken away.

I don't know exactly how old the fallen trees are, but they were big and tall in the 1930s, as these photos attest. So I'm guessing at least a century old.

Carroll Park was created around 1843. Though the name Carroll Gardens is new, dating from the 1960s, the park has always been called Carroll Park, named Charles Carroll, a Maryland delegate to the Continental Congress and a signer of the Declaration of Independence. Why him? Because fighting a pivotal battle in the early Revolutionary War skirmish, the Battle of Brooklyn, was done by the valiant Maryland Boys, who kept the British at bay while Washington and his army decamped for Manhattan.

The land where the park sits began as a private property. The idea for a park was put forth in 1851, and paid for by assessment of local property owners. The land was acquired by the city in 1853. When it opened it was called the "nonpareil of parks." In 1859, is was described as "a block of ground planted with ornamental trees and intersected by gavelled walks." But it was "let to take care of itself." Iron fence eight-feet tall were erected, and asphalt walks. Baseball was played here as early as 1870.

Renovations in 1870 were done by Olmstead and Vaux, of Central Park and Prospect Park fame. At this point, gas lamps were installed, and the corners of the park were curved. In the 1890s came electric lights, "handsome serpentine paths," and a big circular basin in the middle, with a fountain stocked with fish, surrounded to two smaller fountains. (The fountains became a problem. Local kids would cast lines and try to catch the fish.)

It was around the time of this renovation that trees were planted. I'm guessing these trees. They grew during three separate centuries.

Why I Love the Clinton Apothecary

In my neighborhood, pharmacy-wise, there a CVS on Court Street, a Rite Aid down by Atlantic, and a couple more Rite Aids on Smith Street. And then there's the Clinton Apothecary, a lonely mercantile outpost at the corner of Clinton Street and President Street. It's one of the last independent pharmacies in the neighborhood. Renaissance and Court Pharmacy, both on Court Street, were driven out of business in the last few years.

I love the Clinton Apothecary. And not just because its an indy, family-owned business. I love it because it's run by neighborhood people who obviously know all the other people in the neighborhood. I love it because the staff are as friendly as they need to be, and no more. They're not rude; they're just doing their job. And they treat little old ladies waiting for prescriptions very well.

I love it because they go to the bother of putting together holiday-themed window displays for every single major holiday. They are not flashy. They look like something a third-grade class would do under the instruction of their teacher. But they're all the more endearing for that. And they're always the first out of the gate. The Halloween display is up by late September; the Thanksgiving display on Nov. 1; the Christmas display the day after Thanksgiving.

I love them because they are tiny, but have a little bit of everything. Not just medicines and toiletries, but school supplies, toys, gift items, party favors, and a small but helpful food section. Even, lately, Halloween costumes.

I also love the Clinton Apothecary because it in mind-bogglingly cheap. I don't know how have stayed in business with the prices they charge. In Carroll Gardens, now a very affluent community, they could charge as much as they want. But they don't. Large bags of chips are $1. Two-liter sodas are not much more. Toilet paper for under a dollar. Often glassware and other kitchen items are on displays for a buck or two a piece. I've restored my home's supply of water glasses courtesy of the Clinton Apothecary many times, usually for under $10. And, as I understand it, they charge less for a co-pay than the big boys do.

Oftentimes, when I'm walking home with a thirst and a hungry boy in tow, and only five bucks in my pocket to work with, I've stopped in this drug store and have managed to get drinks and snacks to satisfy us both, with change to spare.

Maybe They Should Keep It

Longstanding Carroll Gardens pizzeria Sal's was apparently part of a movie shoot last month that caused them to temporarily rename themselves "Salducci's." Guess the filmmakers thought that would make this very Italian joint even more Italian. The pasted-on awning is still there, as is the decal on the glass door. I kind of like the name better. Maybe they should keep it.

A Hint of Helen's Candy Shop

In the past, I've written about the Carroll Gardens Newsstand's former life as Helen's Candy Store. As Helen's, the tiny Smith Street storefront was a beloved local institution, known for its superlative egg creams. It was run by two sisters who lived upstairs, Helen Hanaway, who had a reddish-blonde beehive hairdo, and Georgia. Working the counter were the two women seen below. The one on the right is Josie. The woman on the left is Lilly, who was cross-eyed, and whom no one ever forgot once laying eyes on her.

Lately, the owners of the newsstand have been making some ill-advised "improvements." They've scraped the front clean of all its posters and stickers. And they've revamped the interior. So now it's cheap-looking in a junky new way, rather than cheap-looking in a charming, grimy way.

But, there's a silver lining. They haven't finished the ceiling. So in one corner, you can see what must have been the tin ceiling that Helen's Candy Shop once sported. If only I could convince to tear out all those acoustical tiles and refurbish the tin ceiling!

Marco Polo Loses Its Awning

The full-scale renovation of the Marco Polo Ristorante on Court Street in Carroll Gardens continues apace. The other day I happened to be there when the old awning was removed and hauled away by a truck. Will it be cleaned? Or replaced? Time will tell.

More on the Brooklyn Deaconess Home

The former Brooklyn Deaconess Home of Simpson Methodist Episcopal Church on President Street in Carroll Gardens—now a lovingly kept up, three family home—has long been a favorite local building of mine, and an ongoing obsession. (I've been lucky enough to see the inside on one occasion. The bottom two floors are a veritable museum of 19th-century Brooklyn interiors.)

Recently, a reader sent me this passage from the Twenty-First Annual Report of the General Board of Managers of the Woman’s Home Missionary Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church for the Year 1901-1902. (Cincinnati: Western Methodist Book Concern Press, 1902 (p. 144).) Very interesting.

Brooklyn Deaconess Home.

238 President Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Mrs. F. A. Fowler, Superintendent.

"The Brooklyn Deaconess Home of the Methodist Episcopal Church" is incorporated under the laws of the State of New York under the above title. The Home itself was deeded, however, some years since by the late Emira Christian, as a memorial to her husband, to theBrooklyn Church Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, this City Evangelization Society assuming the entire care of the property in consideration of a preference in the assignment of deaconesses to its fields of labor. Accordingly, all contributions given to this Home are used to place and keep the deaconesses in our own Home. During the past year fourteen deaconesses and probationers have been assigned to work, and (with the exception of one, who for several months worked in the interests of our Seney Hospital, under the direction of its superintendent) all were engaged in parish work in the several Churches with which they were connected. Nearly four thousand dollars was expended by the Treasurer of the Home for its support and the maintenance of the workers. This year a small debt of one thousand dollars, which has been outstanding for several years, is being paid. Most of the deaconesses are assigned to down-town missionary fields. A few more young women who feel called to this work may find admission to our Home.

Our Training-school is of a high order, the Faculty consisting of some of the most scholarly of our city clergymen, and the list of special lecturers includes the ablest preachers of several denominations.

Recently, by an amendment to the Constitution of the Board of Direction, which consists of representatives from the Woman's HomeMissionary Society, the Brooklyn Church Society, and the Conference Deaconess Board, a Board of Managers, consisting of two ladies from each Church in the boroughs of Brooklyn and Queens, and the pastor's wife (ex-officio) was constituted, and to it is delegated all matters pertaining to the raising of the funds needed for the support of the Home. Deaconess work in Brooklyn is growing in popularity, and ourHome, under the efficient superintendency of Mrs. Frances A. Fowler, is an essential factor in our local Church work.

Esposito Pork Store Picks Up the Slack for Joe's Superette

I noticed this sign in the window of Esposito Pork Store on Court Street in Brooklyn the other day. It hadn't been there before. Obviously, the butcher is trying to fill in the prosciutto ball hole left in Carroll Gardens by the closure of Joe's Superette in spring 2011. The neighborhood institution was known citywide for the excellence of its prosciutto balls. Sure, those balls are now being made at Prince Street Pizza by an ex-employee of Joe's. But a Brooklynite doesn't want to have to have himself to SoHo every time he wants a deep-fried, hammy, cheesy treat. I haven't tried Esposito's prosciutto balls, but I plan to soon.

Meanwhile, here's what the former site of Joe's looks like now. The letters on the great old sign were taken away by relatives of the former owner, I was told. The space will be a Greek restaurant when it reopens. The renovation has revealed bit of very old brick, steel pillars and tin ceilings.

Marco Polo Gets a Facelift

Marco Polo Ristorante, the Carroll Gardens landmarks and reputed goodfella hangout, is getting a renovation. The 30-year-old institution will be closed through Sept. 17 while the interior is redone. I quick peek inside revealed that the entire place has been gutted save the murals on the wall. This does not upset me. The decor was the least of Marco Polo's charms. It was standard issue, red-sauce-joint gauche. It could do with a new look.

Joe's Superette's Prosciutto Balls Found

I'd heard scuttlebutt and seen Internet reports that the famous prosciutto balls of the shuttered Joe's Superette were being made at a Soho pizzeria called Prince Street Pizza. I've been in deep mourning ever since that low profile Carroll Gardens institution closed last year. So I was curious.

I didn't manage to get to the pizzeria until a few weeks ago. I saw prosciutto balls on the menu on the wall. And when I saw a laminated New York Times article about Joe's (below) on the counter, I was hopeful. But it wasn't until I saw Louie—looking straight-jacketed in an official Prince Street Pizza polo and baseball cap—that I knew it was all true. Louie was the guy who made the balls at Joe's, taking over the duties after his boss Leo Coldonato—the inventor of the delectable treats—got sick.

I had a true Brooklyn encounter with Louie. I greeted him, told him I used to go to Joe's a lot, and had heard the balls had migrated there. He didn't betray a glimmer of recognition or gratitude; just shrugged his shoulders and said, "I don't remember you," and walked away.

I ordered a batch of prosciutto balls. They were as I remember. Yet, somehow different. Bigger, and richer with ricotta. I recall eating six very easily at Joe's. Here, four of the balls nearly overwhelmed my senses. Still, very good. Though not exactly the same.

I also learned a bit of Joe's history from Louis. I always assumed that Joe's closed because Leo died. That's not exactly true. Louie said he closed because the landlord hiked the rent, indicating he would have continued on if the rent had stayed the same. He also said a Greek restaurant was going into the space.

Fall Cafe Replacement Revealed

Ciro's, the replacement for the Fall Cafe—a local landmark on Smith Street in Carroll Gardens for nearly two decades—revealed itself this week. New layout inside, though it looks like they've kept some of the old chairs that gave the Fall Cafe its ratty charm. And there might be the possibility of garden seating in back.

The Worst Sign on Court Street

NOTE: UPDATE APPENDED.

Some weeks ago, Joe's Restaurant, an old diner and a standby of Carroll Gardens' Court Street for years, packed it in. The space was then rented to a yogurt joint. Which doesn't sound too bad on the face of it. But with the shop, called 16 Handles, comes this horribleriffic monstrosity of a sign, which made its debut a few days ago, scarring the eyes of innocent locals and frightening mild-hearted dogs and children.

Do store signs have to be approved by local community boards? If so, how did this garish piece of visual offensiveness get by the town fathers? This is, by far, the worst, the ugliest sign in the 20-plus block of stretch of Court Street. It is worse than McDonald's, Popeye's and Dunkin' Donuts, and that is saying something. The so-bright-they-hurt colors were obviously chosen to attract the attention of the freeway driver whizzing by a roadside rest stop. But this is a quiet neighborhood commercial strip in an old residential area. The chain is so ignorant of the neighborhood that on their website, they list this location as being in Cobble Hill.

UPDATE: The owner of the franchise contacted me and had the following to say:

Your blog was sent to me via a friend and I wanted to send a comment on behalf of 16 Handles. 

We agree that the signage used at this location does not fit the vibe or feel of your neighborhood.

It wasn't the intention of our franchisee to upset the community. 

We have heard you and we thank you for your feedback.

Our mission is simply to bring smiles to communities. The sign we hung clearly missed the mark. 

Having said that, we are working to have the sign removed and replaced with one which is more suitable for the neighborhood.

Jon Lake, vp operations - 16 Handles

I am stunned, as I have come to expect authority never to respond to the complaints of community members. All I can say, is, while I may not like the sign, the man who hung it is a gentleman. I applaud his reaction heartily. And, when the shop opens, I will try the yogurt.