Bill's Gay 90s Is Gutted

I walked by Bill's Gay 90s saloon on E. 54 Street yesterday, for the first time since the Prohibition-era tavern closed last March, and found it gutted.

One of the windows looking into the second-floor dining room was papered over, but the other one was wide open. (There was work going on inside, but I didn't see any workers. I could only hear them.)  One could easily see that the walls, which were once covered with framed theatrical posters from the 1890s and 1900s, and other artifacts of Olde New York, has been stripped bare.

It was harder to spy the state of the ground floor barroom. But a glance through the narrow line of top windows revealed that the old bar, all the boxing posters, and the famous carved-wood-and-stained-glass swinging doors (which once hung in the old Hoffman House) were all gone.

The window below looks into the third floor, which once contained the old bar from Delmonico's. It, too, appears to have been gutted.

This big question here is: where did all the artifacts and furniture go? There was a legal battle between the owner of Bill's, Barbara Bart Olmsted, and Noel Tynan, the Irish owner of the building, as to who owned all the saloon's accoutrements. Tynan made it clear that he wanted to keep the insides just as they were, but Olmsted wanted to take all the trappings with her.

One thing's clear: the bar did not stay as it was, and all the stuff that made it special is gone. That would seem to indicate that Olmsted prevailed. Or it could be that everything is in storage and will be returned as soon as the place is renovated. But if that were the case, why take out the bar? And the shutters?

A Good Sign: Sylvia's Restaurant

A Harlem classic. Both signs are good. The one above, I think, is older.

Sokol Bros. Sign to Be Saved

A local tipster informed me the other day that the great old sign to the Sokol Bros. Furniture Store—the Columbia Street institution that was torn down recently—will be saved.

When I saw said sign on a scrap heap of rubble recently, I feared it would be junked. I asked a workman about its fate, but he had no idea. My informant tells me that, once the apartment building that is replaced the store is built, the sign will be hung in the interior courtyard. Apparently, the preservation of the sign was part of the deal the owner of Sokol made with the developer.

An Oasis of Tiki in a Staten Island Mall

Jade is a tiki bar and restaurant sitting in the middle of a Staten Island strip mall. It opened in 1972, a year in which tiki bars were on their way out, culturally speaking. But it became a favorite with locals, and has survived for four decades, recently fighting off a near-death experience with its landlord before signing a new lease for 10 years.

Jade Island was founded by four brothers by the name of Eng. They had all been cooks in Manhattan's Chinatown before striking out on their own. It began as a Cantonese place, but the Eng brothers quickly switched to the polyglot style of "Polynesian" cooking when they saw their customers preferred it. The Engs are no longer involved, having sold the restaurant to some employees some years ago.

The interior is, I imagine, little changed since it opened. Thatch-roofed, peaked booths line the walls of the spacious room, with standard tables in the center. There is a water sculpture in the lobby, fake foliage everywhere, and blowfish lamps and other exotic lighting fixtures.

The menu, too, hasn't change. They do the whole "Column A. Column B" thing. The food is not great, but it's filling and satisfying as genre cuisine. And the drinks are from tiki yesteryear, each getting an illustration, a long fanciful description, and an elaborate presentation. The Pineapple Paradise is below.

The Little Theatre, As It Was

Broadway's Little Theatre—known for the past 30 years as the Helen Hayes Theatre, and Broadway's smallest house—recently commemorated its 100 years (on and off) as a working theatre. I went to the ceremony, and to the luncheon afterwards at Sardi's. On the walls at Sardi's were various old photos taken at the time of the Little Theatre's birth.

Above is the engagingly simple box office area. The below photo gives a taste of the elegant downstairs sitting room.

When it was first built, the Little Theatre had only orchestras seats—no balcony. The picture below shows the lobby, which is currently besmirched by a couple large stands selling refreshments and souvenirs for Rock of Ages.

This is another view of the lobby, showing the stairs leading down to the exit. You still exit the Helen Hayes in this same way.

Schnack Owner Part of Team Reviving Leske's Bakery

As reported earlier on this blog, Leske's Bakery, the old Scandinavian bake shop in Bay Ridge, which closed in May 2011, is reopening under new management. Part of that management team is Harry Hawk, the restauranteur behind Carroll Gardens' late, lamented hot dog joint Schnack. Hawk wrote in to report his vision for the place:

We think that you are correct that things are (anywhere) not nearly as good as they used to be.

The bakers have requested we "turn back the clock" on quality and we agree. For example we will return to making Custards and puddings from scratch.

There is a fine line here of course. The further back you go in terms of quality, ingredients, etc. the more expensive the baked good become.

In season, we will be making fruit toppings from scratch with local fruits.

Once we open, we are eager to get everyone's feedback.

Why the Red Hook Pool Should Open Earlier Than July 4

So scenes like this could be happening right now. When it's hot. When it's summer. Not when the City is good and ready. A two-month season for such a wonderful public resource? C'mon.