Crif Dogs has finally made it east – to Brooklyn. Continue Reading

There is going to be a new big time music venue in North Brooklyn, and it’s not going to be in Williamsburg. The Wick will be in the quondam Hittleman Brewery on Meserole St. in Bushwick and when open, hopefully by summer, will be able to hold crowds of up to 700 people.

The venue will play all kinds of music, whatever music people in the neighborhood want to see – from indie, to Latin, to electronic, and likely more. The Wick’s biggest competition, Brooklyn Bowl and the Music Hall of Williamsburg, already do a good job of servicing the area, but promoters aren’t concerned. As long as the shows are marketed properly, they say, they will be able to attract more than enough people to fill the venue.

There will be one bar type area, and another room in the Brewery with a stage. Although the Wick doesn’t plan to have live music every night yet, they aspire to it eventually. I’m excited both for the music on Fridays and Saturdays and for another bar option in the ‘hood.

In any case, it should be a cool new spot in East Williamsburg/Bushwick that will further contribute to the growth and development of the coolest place ever.

The Archive, rest in peace, has finally been replaced. Swallow, don’t get any dirty thoughts, is a bit better suited to Morgantown 2011. Industrial lightbulbs provide arch light, the saggy cushions have been replaced by movie theatre style seating in the back and cutesy European style granite tabletopped tables, and the baristas actually know how to make a macchiato. The gorgeous red Marzocco esperesso machine glowed and bubbled, the music was recognizable without pretension, and in general, it is friendlier and less of a hey-please-watch-out-for-my-mac-book-pro-charger-cord kind of place.

For the scenesters in Bushwick, Cafe Orwell still gets it done, but for the main strip, Morgantown needed a more hostpitable cafe, one where you can actually meet someone for a date, or even better, talk about life and literature, without getting the hairy eyeball from the people sitting next to you.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved Archive. And the way I’m describing it makes it out to be the kind of cafe where everyone regards you with a sneer. In fact, people were generally friendly there, but it was the vibe that made the difference. The Archive had been in place for years, and so had the people working there. That said, I’m thankful that there’s a clean coffee slate in my new neighborhood.

So there’s a ghost stroller on Union and 6th. Painted the color of my butt cheeks during the winter, this artistic endeavor has confused and confounded locals for weeks now. The New York Times just ran an article about it. And everyone wants to know what it means.

I think I know. 20 years ago, and even today, Park Slope was an ideal neighborhood for young, aspiring artists. Then the yuppies found out about it, and gentrification ensued. It’s close to downtown, right next to the Park, safe, what’s not to love? Let’s stake a claim here and raise a family. Right? So they did.

Now it seems the small remaining artistic community is fighting back. The ghost stroller is a mockery of memorial bikes painted white. No baby in a stroller was smacked by a moving car – it’s some Park Slope artist lamenting the loss of his hepcat community to the thriving papoose wearing yuppie moms.

Gentrification is a good thing guys. It’s what lead to the development and safety of other Brooklyn communities, like the newly coined South Park Slope, and East Williamsburg. And so is art. It’s provocative and makes people think, even if they attribute a different meaning than the artist’s intended one. That comes with the territory.

As for the artists, I’d say don’t despair. Move to Bushwick.

So I’m sure you know about the new ranking system of restaurant violations. The least violations earn the restaurant an A, and the more you get the lower the grade.

Needless to say, I was utterly shocked when one of my favorite restaurants, Note Thai, on Bushwich Avenue, was shut down. Not only did they have my picture and a few dozen other photos of locals on the wall, but they were the only Thai place in our neck of the woods, and they served a kick ass extra spicy chicken pad thai, the hallmark of a worthy Thai restaurant.

I lay in bed last night imagining what the straw that broke the Thai camel’s back looked like. Maybe they didn’t have soap in the bathroom. Maybe there were cockroaches in the corner. Maybe it was just a hundred little things. Any way, I’m still sad.

And I don’t despair about eating there even though it was dirty. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that it probably was so good because it was dirty. Now, I’m out of luck. I can’t always eat falafel from the Pita Palace. I’m resentful about the ranking system in general. I don’t see the health rankings in window shops. I want Note Thai back.

It’s my birthday today and I wanna go to Peter Luger’s. This is one of New York’s oldest steakhouses, and proudly it resides in Brooklyn, underneath the Williamsburg bridge.  They are famous for serving the porterhouse. Also known as the short loin, the porterhouse is like a T-bone, which is cut closer to the front and includes less fillet. The porterhouse is cut from the rear and comes with the strip loin and a larger fillet. The USDA says that the fillet must be at least 1.25 inches thick in order to be called a porterhouse.

At Peter Luger, operating since 1887, the meat is all Prime, and after selected for proper marbling, it sits in a cold air circulated cooler to age. Did I mention that Peter Luger has been named the best steakhouse in New York by Zagat for 26 years running?

Needless to say I’m going to feast. Get my ma to buy a nice bottle of red, some creamed spinach and baked potato, Caesar salad with extra anchovy and garlic, and maybe a shrimp cocktail if I’m really hungry.

I love birthdays. No one can tell me what to do. I mean, they can, but I get what I want.

Aside from the character, the culture, and — ugh — the G train, us Brooklyners have something even more fundamental in common: We don’t mind paying a little less for rent than our Manhattanite brethren.

In fact, we don’t mind paying a little less in general. We rather enjoy it, you could say.

Enter Groupon, a site you’ve probably heard of and possibly neglected to explore. With subsites for most big cities — Brooklyn included — Groupon offers sweet deals from local businesses.

It works like this:

• Brooklyn biz contacts Groupon with a potential promotion — an $X coupon for less than $X cash — as well as the number of buyers the business would need to make it worth their while.
• Groupon posts the offer online — a new one every day! — and allows customers to purchase coupons via credit card. (Or Groupon gift certificate. My birthday is coming up, guys — take note.)
• If enough customers purchase the coupons, the deal is on! If not, everyone gets their money back. No hard feelings.

So, for example, Groupon’s current deal allows you to purchase a $30 coupon for the cleverly named 5 Burro Cafe for $15. The deal became “on” shortly after 8 this morning, when 30 people had purchased coupons. The current number is over 200.

How do you save $$$ in Brooklyn?

Every once in a while I pass a Brooklyn-emblazoned hoodie on the street, a neat-o item of swag from the New York Transit Museum, an “I Only Kiss Yankees Fans” t-shirt à la Victoria’s Secret — just kidding, those are atrocious — and I wonder, Can I wear those?

I mean, I live in Brooklyn. So do most of the people I see on a daily basis. You know, in Brooklyn. Isn’t wearing a Brooklyn sweatshirt kind of… redudant?

For a while now, it’s been my long-term plan to invest in a mélange of BK paraphernalia if and when I exit our fair city. Because in the world outside New York, wearing a Brooklyn hoodie or delousing behind a Subway-themed shower curtain would be less tacky, more cool.

That’s the long-term plan.

For now, though, I’m in a search of a compromise. How can I show off my BK pride without coming off as OMFG insufferable?

Courtesy of Fucked in Park Slope,  I have at my disposal at least one tentative solution — the zip code necklace. Available on Etsy for a rather frustrating $60, these numeric pieces are available sterling silver, brass, gold, or gold plated, with the zip code of your choice in one of five fonts — as always, my heart belongs to Helvetica.

The $60 is steep, but hey, I plan on having a birthday eventually.

Williamsburgers, enjoy your final Parliaments — the suped-up cigarette tax has arrived, increasing the prices of said cigs by $1.60 or more, making some packs as expensive as $11.

To put it a different way: The in-city tax on cigarettes is now a total of $5.85. So, basically, half of what you’re paying is tax.

From hipster Parliaments to cool Camels, not to mention Vonnegutian Pall Malls — cough — this tax affects ’em all, and the New Yorkers that smoke them.

For some, the $11 might be the straw that broke Joe Camel’s back, and for this crowd, may we suggest the following alternatives:

• Tanning. To replicate the addictiveness of nicotine, that fickle mistress, without scarring your lungs, we recommend tanning. Only indoors, of course — it’s the only kind suggested to be addictive.
• iTunes. You’re probably used to frequently spending cashmoney in ten dollar quantities, and iTunes can provide the same wall-draining experience. Celebrate your Brooklynity with a The Drums’ self-titled album — they’re a BK band!
• The Great Outdoors. Ohmygod. I can’t breath. That’s what smoking is like, right? Fortunately, it’s summertime, so you can experience the same feeling of oxygen deprivation, plus pit stains!

If all else fails, invest in some candy cigarettes and pantomime smoke like a champion.