by Nora Lum
Neptune Avenue becomes Emmons Avenue; follow Emmons until you see another body of water that isn’t the ocean.
Arrive at the Holocaust Memorial Park (on your right).
Before we enter the Holocaust Memorial Park, we are going to take a moment to meditate on the fact that there is a FLOCK OF SWANS that ACTUALLY RESIDE IN THE BAY. Let’s take note that these ARE NOT YOUR GRANDMOTHER’S SWANS. These are not the swans that live on giant Chinese fans or in storybooks about ugly ducklings or Aesop’s fables. These swans DO NOT GIVE A FUCK. If they were a celebrity, they would look like a mixture of COURTNEY LOVE, KATE GOSSELIN, and IKE TURNER.
As previously mentioned, both Brighton Beach and Sheepshead Bay boast large Jewish communities. In the 1940s, many immigrants who settled these areas were Jews from Eastern Europe—many of whom had survived World War II. The Holocaust Memorial Park lives on a small plot of land, lending it a quaintness that adds to its overall tranquility. Benches line the entrance, but the memorial itself is a haunting metal smokestack, modeled after those found in concentration camps. Placed around the smokestack are rocks that resemble gravestones. Memories and stories from survivors are engraved onto these stones, making it a place of sometimes disturbing and highly emotional remembrance—a tribute that memorializes the darkness of that era without reservations.
SWANS
ENDPOINT
CHOOSE YOUR OWN SHEEPSHEAD BAY EATERY
• El Greco Diner
• Randazzo’s Clam Bar
• Roll-n-Roaster
It was difficult to highlight just one of these landmark restaurants. They are all dotted along Sheepshead Bay’s main drag, Emmons Avenue, and are all affordable, because at the end of the day, we are all kind of broke. Depending on just HOW broke (/hungry/drunk) you are, I will leave the digestive decisions up to YOU.
EL GRECO DINER
OPTION 1
EL GRECO DINER
From the Holocaust Memorial Park, walk straight down Emmons Avenue to Sheepshead Bay Road.
See large diner sign. Walk toward it.
One thing that New Yorkers always enjoy is a good ole-fashioned diner—especially when they’re wasted and dressed in a slutty lampshade costume at two a.m. on Halloween. But El Greco is more than your typical NYC diner; it’s a waterfront and BRILLIANTLY GAUDY diner. Basically the kind of place you’d imagine existing somewhere off the highway in Florida. The scene for any ironic indie rock music video, El Greco is more of an institution than it is an eatery. In fact, it is probably the most well-known culinary destination in all of South Brooklyn. Over the years, El Greco has expanded with the addition of a large patio—the El Greco Café—for that dining-in-Rome experience. That experience may or may not be negatively impacted by the fact that you’re sipping an espresso over a cheeseburger deluxe with a side of shriveled, crusty sausage links.
TURNIN’ UP WITH CHICKEN STRIPZ
GETTIN’ RATCHET WITH DRIED MEATS
GOIN’ HAM WITH A CHEESECAKE
GETTIN’ IT IN WITH CALAMARI
OPTION 2
RANDAZZO’S CLAM BAR
From the Holocaust Memorial Park, walk straight down Emmons Avenue to Ocean Avenue.
Pass the bright purple sign of a frightening nightclub called Fabergé.
Find Randazzo’s next door.
In a city where rabid hood swans poop out neon particles and accidentally get trapped in adult diapers while swimming in the bay, it is understandable that finding good and trustworthy seafood is difficult. If eyeballing it and tasting it isn’t enough, the rule of thumb in NYC is to go to the places that have been doing it and doing it well for decades. Randazzo’s Clam Bar is a shimmering example of this, booming in business since 1932. It’s the kind of place where the flustered dude behind the bar’s last name is the same name on the restaurant.
Try the calamari and make your children eat it by telling them it’s chicken … which may or may not cause them to subconsciously resent you as alcoholic adults who live on the boardwalk of Brighton Beach.
RANDAZZO'S FAMOUS CALAMARI
OPTION 3
ROLL-N-ROASTER
From the Holocaust Memorial Park, walk down Emmons Avenue to East Twenty-ninth Street.
Reach what appears to be an extremely large outdated fast-food tavern with a poop-brown roof and some seventies orange accents.
Welcome to the captivating mystery that is Roll-n-Roaster. You are probably asking yourself many things at this moment. Why am I in an oversized Arby’s from 1986? Why does it smell like the Wendy’s scent had sex with my summer camp?
Roll-n-Roaster as advertised in the 1970s and ’80s was one of those freaky, old-timey restaurants where large-breasted waitresses rolled around on skates. Sure, those still exist in shitty little towns whose entire economy relies on being a relic of an era long past, but let’s be real—real roller restaurants are something you just don’t see in NYC anymore. Today, we can’t fart around on skates without fringe lawsuits caused by debilitating facial burns received while spilling boiling water onto unsuspecting grandmothers of five.
In 2013, Roll-n-Roaster is no longer a roller-skate restaurant because it doesn’t have to be—the food is that good. On weekend afternoons, the place is TURNT THE F*CK UP with families, young locals on friend dates, and the occasional Manhattanite who ventures into what he hears are outer-borough gems. They got cheese fries (one of the more famous dishes), burgers of different kinds, and their beloved roast beef sandwiches, which also have their own special line on the menu.
ROLL INTO MAH BELLY
WHY DOES IT SMELL LIKE THE WENDY'S SCENT HAD SEX WITH MY SUMMER CAMP?
Write Your Own
ON THE
Subway
I rode the subway from (NYC neighborhood) to (NYC neighborhood), and man was it (adjective). Let’s just say that by the end of my trip, I was covered from head to toe in (color) (type of liquid)! I also smelled disturbingly like (noun, plural) and (type of animal, plural). It was the worst.
There were (number) different performers who got on at different stops and each one was absolutely (adjective) and horrifying. There was a (type of performer) with HUGE (body part, plural). His/her set included (number) angry (animal, plural). At one point, one of the animals got frightened and sprayed a poor old lady with its (bodily fluid). After it was done, there was this lingering stench of (noun, plural) on a hot summer day throughout the entire car. A couple of minutes later, things got (adjective) all over again.
A group of (adjective) (type of performer, plural) who said they were from (foreign country) started synchronized- (-ing verb) in an incredibly (adjective) and inappropriate manner. The next thing I knew, I’d been knocked down by one of the dancers’ (body part, plural). I was unconscious for God knows how long. When I woke up, I was in the back room of a (major retail store) in (state) wearing nothing but a (type of jewelry) and a shoe.
CANNING:
A GUIDE TO CANNING AS A MEANS OF SUPPORTING YOURSELF—
JUST WHILE YOU’RE BETWEEN JOBS AND TRYING TO GET BACK ON YOUR FEET
If you’re really short on cash for tours, go DIY with a different kind of canning. Hit the streets and get your scavenger on by collecting plastic and glass bottles from disgusting garbage bins all around the city and redeeming them for just enough money to buy nothing. Or maybe a hot dog.
Think about it like this: Each and every tin can, plastic bottle, or glass bottle is worth a whole five cents. Let’s do some math, shall we?
1 Can = $.05
5 Cans = $.25
20 Cans = $1.00
100 Cans = $5.00
200 Cans = $10.00
400 Cans = $20.00
2,000 Cans = $100.00
So basically, redeeming twenty cans would give you just enough money to buy one can. That’s pretty cray.
COMPLEX RULES OF THE TRADE THAT YOU’LL PROBABLY NEVER NEED TO KNOW
The Returnable Container Act was passed in 1982 and has been thriving ever since. In New York, a whopp
ing ninety billion containers get recycled each year. Canning not only reduces roadside litter by an estimated 70 percent but also reduces oil production and greenhouse gas emissions. The universal rule here is that all cans are $.05 a pop, but here are some other random and fairly unnecessary rules.
• You can’t redeem a bottle that WASN’T purchased in New York State, even if it says “NY 5¢” on the label. Isn’t that random and weird?
• Beverage containers eligible for redemption are bottles and cans for carbonated soft drinks, sparkling water, carbonated energy drinks, carbonated juice, soda water, beer and other malt drinks, mineral water both carbonated and non-carbonated, and wine products.
• Beverage containers that AREN’T covered under the bottle bill include those for milk products, wine and liquors, tea, sports drinks, juice boxes, and most waters containing sugar. What’s up with all this sugar-water hate? What kind of water is billed as water yet still contains sugar? Also, if the label on the container is “indelible” (or so says the actual legislation for canning), it can’t be refunded.
• “Dealers,” or the people who sell the beverages, are required by law to refund deposits for the brands they sell. Also, “dealers” must be able to refund you during normal business hours unless it is a twenty-four-hour institution, where they don’t have to serve you during the first and last hours. Do not confuse “dealers” with just any store. “Dealers” are defined as those who are approved to redeem.
GET CREATIVE!
The hard-core canners of this great city carry an arsenal of tools and supplies that includes bungee cords, makeshift colonial wagons, industrial-grade gloves, ugly sun hats, and ponchos.
PIMP YOUR RIDE!
A flimsy garbage bag and a pessimistic attitude have never gotten a canner far. In fact, the best canners in the city go AWKWARDLY hard with their wheels, manufacturing large and extravagant wagons that fit the most outrageous amounts of recyclables.
Go BIG with your wheels by apprehending multiple shopping carts from your local supermarket and jankily strapping them together with rope or human hair. If you’re not stealthy enough for theft of private property, find a large plywood plank and drill it onto that wheelchair you keep in your basement.
CALL A FRIEND!
In the world of canning, strength is in numbers. Befriend an affable, homeless Vietnam veteran who will follow you around because he thinks you’re Pat Benatar in his drunken stupor. If you have kids, pull those youngsters out of class for some hard-core bonding. Children are perfect for canning!
KNOW YOUR COMPETITION
Okay, so maybe you were limber in high school and taught hot yoga during your study abroad in Nepal. In the world of canning, NONE OF THAT MATTERS. As a newbie, you will definitely lose a few battles to the most fierce and skilled kind of canner, the Chinese Grandma.
The Chinese Grandma Canner is kind of like Wolverine in that she is mysterious and quick on her feet. If provoked, the Chinese Grandma Canner will probably slap you across the face with her disgusting canning glove. If you happen upon CGC territory, my best advice is to stay calm and retreat.
REDEMPTION
Redemption centers are common in all five boroughs of the city and smell like old beer and sadness. Some centers have a daily redemption limit in place to avoid people like you hanging around at all hours of the night. If you buy your cans and bottles from a neighborhood grocery store or supermarket, chances are you will be able to redeem them there as well.
BEST FRANDS
THE ADVENTURE
There aren’t many places you can go where the most homeless person ever will call you ugly in Polish, then sing opera to you. In terms of quintessential ethnic enclaves in New York, Greenpoint is quite the gem.
HISTORY
Back in the 1630s, Greenpoint and Williamsburg were purchased as one block of land known then as Bos-Jick, translating to Bushwick.
It’s the current home of sassy, limber rapper Awkwafina.
Greenpoint was known for its large number of trees. Not anymore, Greenpoint. Not anymore.
Oil refineries and ship manufacturers in the 19th century contributed to the pollution of nearby Newton Creek.
The neighborhood is now known as Little Poland and is the truest experience of Polish culture that you can find in the city.
ADVENTURE BACKGROUND
SINCE THE 1990S, Greenpoint and its native residents have seen an influx of young college grads filling up apartments and opening postmodern vegan bodegas along their streets. Spillover from nearby overgentrified and overpriced Williamsburg has given Greenpoint an interesting mix of posh brunch hangouts and places where you can simultaneously copy keys, fix your shoes, and buy gold.
START
THE EAST RIVER FERRY (OPTIONAL)
There’s a FERRY that crosses the EAST RIVER and TAKES YOU PLACES. I really don’t consider myself a ferry fanatic, but you know, to each his own. This ride is pretty cool because it is so random, and yes, it’s also pretty to watch.
The Manhattan ferry “terminal” is located at East Thirty-sixth Street and FDR Drive. After crossing the East River to Brooklyn, the ferry stops at Hunters Point in Long Island City, India Street in Greenpoint, North Sixth Street in North Williamsburg, Schaefer Landing in South Williamsburg, and Brooklyn Bridge Park in DUMBO. Its route finishes back in Manhattan at Pier 11 on Wall Street; to get back to midtown, ride back in reverse order. How frackin’ convenient.
NOTE: The ferry’s website (www.eastriverferry.com) says that its midtown terminal is located on Thirty-fourth Street, though it is actually closer to Thirty-sixth Street.
CHECKPOINT 1 OR ENDPOINT
LOMZYNIANKA
Take the G (or literally the ONLY TRAIN that runs through Greenpoint, which just happens to be THE WORST TRAIN) to Nassau Avenue.
Get out through the Manhattan Avenue and Nassau Avenue exit.
Walk north on Manhattan Avenue toward Norman Avenue.
* WARNING: I’m being honest when I say Polish food isn’t the most activity-inducing cuisine. Lomzynianka’s fluffy pierogis, tantalizing kielbasa, and steamy stuffed cabbages aim to keep you warm on a cold winter night as you involuntarily fall asleep immediately afterward.
Lomzynianka is perhaps the most well-known Polish dining institution in the neighborhood. It’s one of those hole-in-the-wall, often-packed, and amazingly cheap places where you can BYOB and dine under a lit-up deer head that wasn’t placed there ironically. It’s one of those insider places that you brag to your friends about knowing and bring your parents to when they visit your place from the Midwest.
*If you are easily defeated by food comas, I highly suggest you save the meal for the last stop on the route.
One dude and one disgruntled woman in the kitchen run the place. The resident waiter who’s been there for years has a large prison tattoo and is burly like a giant huggable uncle (we’ve hugged). The pierogi selection includes potato and cheese, sauerkraut and mushroom, and “meat,” costing an amazing $5.50 an order. For the amount of puffiness you feel after ingesting them, I’d say that’s a pretty good price.
If you’ve never had Polish food, you should live on the wild side and order the Polish Platter. It costs less than $10 and comes with complimentary cold salad, three pierogis, kielbasa, stuffed cabbage, “bigos,” and potatoes.
UNIRONIC
RITE AID DISCO
CHECKPOINT 2
THE COOLEST RITE AID EVER
Walk down Manhattan Ave toward Norman Avenue; end at Rite Aid.
The Rite Aid on Manhattan Avenue is one of the most fascinating locations in the neighborhood because there is a HISTORICAL DISCO BALL in it. That’s right, guys, this Rite Aid was once a ROLLER RINK.
Built in 1928 as a movie theater called the Meserole, the building saw a number of different owners before becoming a Rite Aid. While its tiny storefront is deceiving, the sprawling interior that used to hold up to two thousand people still smells like a skanky old theater from the seventies. The lay
out descends into an immense circular rink below a painted black ceiling housing a mind-blowing disco ball. Gazing up at it, you can almost taste the cocaine and orange eye shadow, surrounded by the echoes of hushed whispers from a different, groovier time.
PETER PAN DONUT & PASTRY SHOP
CHECKPOINT 3
PETER PAN DONUT & PASTRY SHOP
Walk down Manhattan Avenue toward Norman Avenue
Stop at Peter Pan Bakery
Peter Pan Donut & Pastry Shop is a giant “f*ck you” to all those hip and overpriced “patisseries” that sell cupcakes the size of pogs and coffee drinks that cost more than a pack of American Spirits. Known best for their OMFG DYING donuts, Peter Pan is a legend in Greenpoint.
Inside, there is a delightfully old-school New York aesthetic, the kind of atmosphere that you just can’t fake. The interior is separated into a crowded to-go line and a sprawling diner-style counter that makes you feel like you’re in an episode of Seinfeld from a parallel universe. Mint green is a recurring theme of Peter Pan (counters, aprons, shelves) and the handwritten menu graphics will actually make you feel warm inside.
Eat your emotions over a $1 cup of coffee or $1.30 cup of Sanka if you’re a freak who drinks Sanka. Donut flavors fluctuate daily and range from things like toasted coconut and red velvet cake (shall I die now or later?) to various holiday-themed flavors. Cinnamon buns, éclairs, bow ties, and jelly sticks are the menu staples.
