by Nora Lum
CHECKPOINT 4
BROOKLYN MOVIE STUDIOS
Walk down Manhattan Avenue toward Meserole Avenue to Calyer Street.
Make a right onto Calyer Street and continue to Diamond Street. End in front of an unmarked Broadway Stages.
When I was a young Awkwafina visiting my cousins on the West Coast, I didn’t give a shit about Fisherman’s Wharf, the Ghirardelli factory, or the Getty (ugh, never again). I begged my cousins to take me on one of those trashy celebrity tours, where a bunch of plucky tourists from the Midwest and I took a giant bus and freakily parked outside the metal gates of celebrities’ Beverly Hills mansions. It wasn’t as fulfilling as I expected, but I remember that special feeling of joy at witnessing the inner workings of Hollywood. A similar experience happens here in Greenpoint, except it is only gratifying if you’ve ever sexually fantasized about Tom Selleck.
In more recent years, a lot of film production and movie houses have moved to northern Williamsburg and Greenpoint, most notably Brooklyn Studios and Broadway Stages.
Welcome to the studios where Boardwalk Empire, The Good Wife, Blue Bloods, and a handful of other riveting dramas are produced. Look at the big-ass trailers that Tom Selleck probably shaves himself in. See that door? That’s the door that Julianna Margulies walks through every morning smelling like flowers and success.
BROADWAY STAGES STAGE DOOR
CHECKPOINT 5
CAFÉ GRUMPY
Make a right onto Diamond Street toward Meserole Avenue.
Where there are nine-to-five hipsters, there are kitschy coffee shops that play Lou Reed, sell Americanos, and have a jankily arranged mini-display of croissants.
Café Grumpy is one of those places that make you wonder if anyone in the Greenpoint/Williamsburg area actually has a job. It is an ideal place to work on your next great novel that will be too complex and overthought for anyone to actually enjoy, and also a place where you can feverishly search for jobs before resorting to canning. But Café Grumpy is also a gem unto itself, a true local hang.
NEEDS COFFEE
LENA??!?!
CHECKPOINT 6
BROOKLYN STANDARD
Continue on Diamond Street toward Norman Avenue.
Make a left onto Nassau Avenue toward Humboldt Street.
Welcome to the place that would make most native New Yorkers vomit a little in their mouths. Brooklyn Standard can be seen as the dystopian epitome of what all of gentrified Brooklyn has the potential to become—a fully equipped vegan-friendly bodega. The Standard, however, produces delicious sandwiches on the go with iced and hot versions of Stumptown coffee. The Standard also offers prepacked vegetarian and vegan cold foods and salads that involve a lot of kale, cumin, and sunflower seeds. They also sell vegan whoopee pies and other satisfactorily “real” baked goods from Vegan Treats. Stop into the Standard and gawk at the future of the Brooklyn bodega.
MCGOLRICK PARK SHELTER
CHECKPOINT 7/OTHER ENDPOINT
MCGOLRICK PARK
Walk down Nassau Avenue toward Humboldt Street.
Find entrance to the park.
McGolrick Park is tucked away among the primarily residential part of the hood on the far end of Nassau Avenue. It is definitely no comparison to Williamsburg’s McCarren Park in size, amenities, and congestion, but there’s something distinctly time warp–y and fitting about McGolrick Park and where it’s located.
Acquired in 1889 and built in 1891 as Winthrop Park, it was originally named after Colonel Winthrop Jones, who ended up passing away a year after its completion. The park was renamed in 1941 after Monsignor Edward J. McGolrick, who was a pastor at St. Cecilia’s Catholic Church, one of the neighborhood’s most historically significant institutions.
One of the prettiest features of the park is the Shelter Pavilion, a covered stone structure dedicated to the USS Monitor, one of the first all-ironclad warships built in the United States for the American navy. The name Monitor pops up a lot around these parts (on street signs and various old buildings, etc.).
Write Your Own
HISTORY OF
Brooklyn
The first inhabitants of Brooklyn were (adjective) Americans, who belonged to the Canarsie tribe. Back then, Brooklyn was (adverb) wooded and densely populated with (noun, plural) and all sorts of (noun, plural). (-ing verb) within the rural landscape, the Canarsie tribe was good at (-ing verb) and (-ing verb).
The Dutch, however, took this land over after arriving with (method of transport, plural) filled with (adjective) (noun, plural) and other wares in the 1600s. Brooklyn’s political fate was (negative adjective) during the years leading up to and immediately following the (noun) Revolution in 1776.
The (ordinal number) century marked Brooklyn’s economic heyday, as landmarks such as (noun) Park, the Brooklyn (noun), and Green-Wood Cemetery were constructed. The Brooklyn Museum, Brooklyn Children’s Museum, and Brooklyn Academy of Music were all built before 1900.
Today, the (body part) and soul of Brooklyn continues to change, as more and more (adjective) (noun, plural) are moving to Brooklyn.
Brooklyn’s recent developments include a massive (noun) designed by “retired” (type of profession) and (noun) lover Jay Z as the home of the newly acquired team the Brooklyn (noun plural).
THE FIVE FACES
OF NEW
NEW YORK
New York City has always been a place where young out-of-town immigrants flock, and it has long been a field of dreams for many different kinds of people, be it the musician or the financier, with many different kinds of goals.
In 2014, the kind of settlers that make New York the city that it is arrive under the same, age-old narrative. Here are some of the faces of new New York.
THE PENNILESS MUSICIAN
Penniless Musicians have always been attracted to New York’s prominent and influential music scene. These are the visitors who arrive with nothing but a beat-up guitar and a dream, expecting to get famous off nothing but raw talent and perseverance.
It is most likely the case, however, that they’ll end up playing a couple of Hoobastank covers at a dismal open-mic night, before joining a Dave Matthews cover band that has a Monday-night residency at a bar next to Dave & Buster’s somewhere on Long Island. The Penniless Musician will then have to resort to couch-surfing or pretending to be really into some ditzy new-age chick who pities him and lets him live for free in her incense-ridden loft studio. He’ll lie to his mom and dad about finding a good and stable day job when in fact he is playing whiny folk songs at the Lorimer L stop to the rhythm of his own tears falling. He’ll eventually find a job as a sales associate in the acoustic guitar department at Guitar Center while overexaggerating his musical endeavors to his colleagues, who are all in the same exact situation.
THE BRO
When it’s not about the art scene, NYC is about the career scene. Areas like midtown and Wall Street are crawling with jobs perfect for those Axe-sporting, North Face–fleece–bearing brosephs who just two years ago were wearing Adidas sandals with socks while taking bong hits under a crooked Corona Extra poster. Bros generally stay among themselves in Manhattan neighborhoods like Hell’s Kitchen, the Upper East Side, Gramercy Park, and some parts of the East Village.
Bros enjoy camaraderie while drinking heavily and are often found hanging out in bars with other Bros after a day at the office. These bars generally feature live sports games and waitresses with large breasts and fake eyelashes. They are located in midtown, the Flatiron District, and parts of Bleecker Street in the West Village. Sometimes, an open-minded Bro will find himself accidentally in a hipster situation at some silent disco or dimly lit oxygen bar. In these moments, the Bro will anxiously sip craft beer while trying to flirt with a Grimes lookalike who wonders how she ended up talking to a Bro. He may or may not have multiple cell phones on his belt.
THE SMALL-TOWN HIPSTER
This new New Yorker wears really ugly wool sweaters, grows an ironic handlebar mustache, and gets his hair cut
like an asshole. Small-Town Hipsters are usually from super-rural, Podunk towns (where they were probably terrorized their entire lives by their schoolmates for reading Nietzsche in the third grade) in states like West Virginia, Minnesota, Arizona, or Oregon. They are usually well versed in postmodern literature, existentialism, and obscure French films from the 1960s. They are really good at things like building shit out of wood, starting campfires, cooking deer meat, identifying stars, identifying certain kinds of trees, growing weed, and playing the washboard.
THE BUTTER KNIFE
Butter Knives are typically female and represent your everyday plain Jane who comes to New York to work in an office and eat salads at Hale & Hearty. These girls are generally the overachieving, pedantic know-it-alls from their high school class who are highly skilled in Microsoft Excel and scrapbooking group pictures of their besties. They are frequent patrons of spa visits and Pilates classes via Groupon and fans of J.Crew and Ann Taylor Loft. They spend most of their free time on Facebook and Pinterest, sharing images of stupid-looking kittens and their dream wedding dresses. Among their favorite films are Casablanca and Runaway Bride, and they are known to get a little tipsy on girls’-night margaritas as they complain about work/passively show off about their recent promotion, and mutually lament how awful it is to date in New York City.
THE TRUSTAFARIAN (INDOOR)
Supporting yourself in a brand-new city like New York isn’t an easy task. And if you’re not working for the bacon, your insanely rich family is probably supporting you. Trustafarians are children of the ridiculously wealthy, kids who live in decked-out SoHo lofts with maid service and cable with channels like HBO and Cinemax.
But Trustafarians are the most insufferable kind of rich kid, in that they are also incredibly idealistic about the starving-artist lifestyle. Out in public, they participate in drum circles and smoke rolled cigarettes on the street with a group of actual street kids, where they attempt to compare life experiences with those who have actually had to panhandle their way across the country. They spend most of their time ranting about being tortured geniuses, wishing they were alive in the 1960s, day-smoking marijuana, and wearing stained T-shirts from the Salvation Army.
SMALL-TOWN HIPSTER AT CAFÉ GRUMPY
THE ADVENTURE
Ah, Le Bronx.
Perhaps your one experience visiting the Bronx was being dragged to the zoo as a child or asking a friendly prostitute how to get back to Manhattan after getting lost on the Point. Maybe you visited a freaky apartment that was wrongfully advertised as located in the “upper Manhattan neighborhood” of “SoBro.” Or not. Either way, I’m here to tell you that this borough’s worth a second trip.
HISTORY
This tour takes place in the Belmont section of the Bronx on the Arthur Avenue strip, coined “the Real Little Italy.”
Arthur Avenue to East 187th Street is considered one of the Bronx’s primary Italian neighborhoods.
Mario’s Restaurant, located on 2342 Arthur Avenue, turned down the chance to be in The Godfather.
Robert De Niro’s A Bronx Tale is based primarily in this neighborhood.
The Arthur Ave. Retail Market might be the oldest building ever.
ADVENTURE BACKGROUND
WHILE THE ITALIAN RESTAURANTS on Arthur Avenue are delicious, authentic, and hazardously filling, the most notable businesses on Arthur Avenue are the delicacy shops, markets, and grocers that carry authentic imported products. I’m talking handmade pastas, homemade mozzarella, rabbit meat, gelato, cannoli, spicy sopressatta, and prosciutto that CUTS LIKE BUTTAH.
Today, we will be bad at planning by eating a giant carb-loaded Italian meal before hitting up a couple of (VERY OLD) meat and cheese shops, a bakery with string that hangs in butt-plug-like contraptions from the ceiling, and the wondrous fiasco that is the Arthur Avenue Market.
MARCO?
START
The area isn’t easily accessible from the subway, but the 4 or D train is your best bet. Bear with me on these directions, folks.
From the D train:
Get off at Fordham Road.
Exit near the intersection of 188th Street and Grand Concourse.
Walk on Grand Concourse toward East 188th Street.
Turn right onto East 188th Street.
Turn right onto Third Avenue.
Turn left onto East 187th Street.
Turn right onto Arthur Avenue.
From the 4 train:
Take the 4 train to Burnside Avenue.
Exit near the intersection of West Burnside Avenue and Jerome Avenue.
Walk east on Burnside Avenue toward Walton Avenue.
Turn left onto Grand Concourse.
Turn right onto East 180th Street.
Turn left onto Webster Avenue.
Turn right onto East 180th Street.
Turn left onto Third Avenue.
Turn right onto Quarry Road.
Turn left onto Arthur Avenue.
ARTHUR AVE: WHERE THE PROSCIUTTO CUTS LIKE BUTTAH
PASTA!
CHECKPOINT 1
ARTHUR AVENUE RETAIL MARKET
Walk down Arthur Avenue toward Crescent Avenue.
Arthur Avenue Market is the best kind of shitshow, an indoor bazaar that is more or less a sampling of all the shops you’ll find in the area. The market was the creation of the beloved and adorably flatulent Fiorello H. La Guardia during his reign as mayor in the 1940s. Compared to some of the other shops, Arthur Avenue Market isn’t even that old. The interior of the building—which spans an entire avenue block—appears not to have been updated since its construction.
If you’re lucky, a dude dressed in a Cubavera shirt with a fedora and a physique like present-day Alec Baldwin will be singing “the hits” into a portable amplifier and mic at an unnecessarily loud volume in the market’s entrance. If you’re even luckier, two drunken middle-aged women with haircuts like Aileen Wuornos’s will be hip-swinging and sloppily twirling each other to his rendition of “Speak Softly Love.”
I really hate corny yet accurate ways of describing things, but the Arthur Avenue Market is truly a FEAST FOR THE EYES. Up front, a man is shearing large tobacco leaves and hand-rolling big-ass cigars. Next to him is an Instagram-worthy collection of colorful fruits and vegetables stuffed into large barrels. On the other side of that is a crowded meat counter with a bevy of random items hanging messily from the ceilings. The market sells everything from giant pig’s feet, baby goats, tails, and an assortment of sweet breads. Other features include a lonely-man bar for pathetic day drinking in a small seating area.
Outside of the neighboring cigar store is a statue of Al Capone sitting on a bench that is just asking for the sexually suggestive photographs you’ll take with him.
LOVE CONNECTION
WHISPERING SWEET NOTHINGS TO MY BOO, AL CAPONE.
CHECKPOINT 2
DOMINICK’S
You know a good eatery when there’s a line out the door at all hours of the day. A favorite for locals, day visitors, and ratchet children, Dominick’s isn’t the kind of place that gets you with its oldness or kitschy décor.
Similar to dim sum without the deranged cart ladies, Dominick’s seating is composed of large farm tables that you’ll probably have to share with an unsuspecting family that will gawk joyously at what you just ordered. There is no menu, just a hyperactive cartoony Italian waiter who appears to be playing a bad, stereotypical version of himself. He will melodically ear-shout the specials while disappearing and reappearing in an over-rehearsed fashion to take your drink, app, and entrée orders.
When in doubt, go with the chicken Parm.
CHECKPOINT 3
MADONIA BROTHERS BAKERY
Walk down Arthur Avenue toward 186th Street.
Madonia Brothers Bakery looks like a fake storefront on the set of some old New York mobster film. One of the oldest shops on the block that is still family run, this dim, cavernlike bakery has existed since 1918.
Everything at Madonia is
baked in house, by hand. Heaps of large loaves that look like hemorrhoid pillows line the window display, and the inventory inside is just stacks and stacks of bready goodness. Madonia is straight baked goods, known best for its biscotti, focaccia, olive loaves, and provolone bread.
MADONIA BROS
CHECKPOINT 4
MORRONE PASTRY SHOP AND CAFÉ
Walk down Arthur Avenue toward 186th Street.
If you’re looking for a bakery with amenities from this century, I would suggest stopping in for a coffee and a cannoli (both for a total of $2) at Morrone Pastry Shop and Café. Morrone is similarly modeled after those fancy, shimmery Italian bakeries found in places like the West Village, with pyramids of cannoli, rainbow cookies, and chocolate-covered strawberries that look so good they make you want to die inside.
The employees behind the counter are giggly teenage girls who definitely know their way around a piece of string. Morrone is decently priced to a fault, allowing you to walk out with enough buttery goodness to get over all of your recent breakups and daddy issues.
The most questionable and freakish quality of Morrone, however, is the framed photograph of that one time Mel fucking Gibson visited and unwillingly posed with the owner. Please don’t let this turn you off to the greatness within.
