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Raising the Temp

January 16, 2015 By admin Filed Under: New Wave

Winter is officially here…the brisk wind is plucking the last of the fall leaves from their branches in Prospect Park, and we’re breaking out our long coats and stroller shades. Hey, look on the bright side—at least you can save a few bucks on iced coffee, right?

As you sip your hot cup of joe and stroll the avenues this winter, take stock of the familiar storefronts that define our community. But also get to know some of the new faces that are part of its evolution. From a Nutella-centric chocolate bar to a state of the art archery facility, there are plenty of places where you can go to maintain a reasonable body temperature this year, and with a refreshing array of products to offer. Here’s a quick recap of some of the new places that have opened over the course of the past year, as well as a few soon-to-be neighbors who we’re excited to welcome!

Spirited
638 Bergen St.
718.783.5700 | spiritedbrooklyn.com

Think Brooklyn has reached the heights of cocktail culture? With the addition of Spirited to the neighborhood we’re one step closer to Hooch Heaven. Kimberly Wetherell, entertainment industry veteran and master booze baker, has opened Spirited—a self-styled “dessert speakeasy,” and a great spot at which to seek refuge from the cold this winter. The plush leather couches will invite you inside, where you can leisurely enjoy Spirited’s eclectic cocktail selection ($12), alcohol-infused cookies ($3-4.50) and sweet specialties ($10-$12). With its Prohibition feel, you’ll likely find yourself compelled to order a 1920s gimlet or an old-fashioned at this watering hole. Instead, stretch your taste buds and try the Tilden Toddy, which is spiked with Laird’s Applejack and Sorel hibiscus, or a seasonal elixir like the Breukelen Zoo, made with Spring 44 honey vodka and Pernod absinthe. Don’t forget to try something off of the impressive menu of booze-infused baked goods and sweet nibbles (craft-brewed churros or liquor lollypops, anyone?)

Gotham Archery
80 Baltic St.
718.858.5060 | got-archery.com

Calling all amateur hunters and Robin Hood fans: Brooklyn’s own temple of target practice has opened and is already zipping with activity. Follow Baltic Street down to the mouth of the Gowanus Canal and you’ll arrive at Gotham Archery, a full-service archery facility with bow and arrow instruction and practice for all skill levels. Gotham Archery is a great destination for birthday parties, or really for anyone else who has ever wanted to let rip a bow and arrow. Archery can also be excellent for hand-eye coordination training and is a great way of flexing spatial intelligence. There are twenty lines available, and the bullseyes are beckoning, so step on up and test your marksmanship!

Bar Chuko
565 Vanderbilt Ave.
347.425.9570 | barchuko.com

Prospect Heights newcomer Bar Chuko is an izakaya—a traditional Japanese “after-work” drinks & tapas bar—offering yakitori skewers, Japanese whiskeys, and small-plate delicacies. Opened by the same Morimoto-expat owners as Chuko Ramen, Chuko’s bar counterpart is delightfully reminiscent of the boisterous Japanese food and drink establishments in Flushing or Saint Mark’s Place, yet has a more streamlined, modernist look. Take in the nonstop flow of humming culinary energy emanating from the open kitchen which works in tandem with the rhythms of nineties hip hop. Come with a group and order a bunch of meat, vegetable, or seafood skewers, like wagyu shortrib or pork jowl, eggplant, squash, chicken cartilage or prawn ($3-$6), followed by a heftier plate of chili/garlic wings ($8), jerk quail ($14), or soft and sticky rice cakes with kimchee, pork and mozzarella ($12).

Mrs. Dorsey’s Kitchen
794 Washington Ave.
347.715.2507 | mrsdorseyskitchen.com

Quit fiddling with your weathered George Foreman grill and that plastic bag of shredded pepperjack in your fridge, and head right down to Mrs.Dorsey’s Kitchen. Serving up both grilled cheese classics and those with a contemporary spin, Ms. Dorsey’s Kitchen churns out many satisfying varieties. There’s the Eggplant Parm sandwich ($8)—a classic combination of cherry tomatoes and smoky eggplant draped with molten mozzarella on bread from Brooklyn’s Caputo Bakery. Or indulge in the Jam Goat sandwich, which marries goat cheese with strawberry preserve and fresh mint. Ms. Dorsey’s Kitchen also carries a line of spicy onion jam and features bread pudding for dessert. It’ll be sure satisfy all your nagging toasted-cheese cravings!

Two Boots
284 5th Ave.
718.499.0008 | twoboots.com

Like many in the community, I was nearly brought to tears when I learned that the longtime family favorite Two Boots closed its doors. No longer would the kids of Park Slope be able to watch the pizzaiolos in action or mold pizza dough with their hands while waiting for pies and shirley temples. However, with the closing of Terroir (a loss for the neighborhood in its own right), owner Phil Hartman resurrected Two Boots in the old Terroir Space on Fifthe Avenue. To this day, Two Boots is still the only neighborhood place where you can get a bowl of Jambalaya for an appetizer and a plate of Ravioli Veronese for dinner without having to hop from one restaurant to another. Be brave: try the crawfish pizza. It’s a triumph of Creole and Napolitano flavors!

Choucroute
162 5th Ave. (coming soon)

The word on the street: Longtime neighborhood seafood joint Mary’s Fish Camp is being replaced by Choucroute, a new “Vietnamese gastropub.” To be run by Lien and Edward Lin (according to Eater.com), ex-employees of San Francisco’s James Beard award-winning restaurant Slanted Door, Choucroute will bring fresh, vibrant flavors of modern California-Vietnamese cuisine, as well as masterfully blended craft cocktails, to Park Slope. Although we already have a couple of solid Vietnamese sandwich shops (Hanco’s and Bahnmigos), Choucroute is sure to be a great new sit-down Vietnamese spot. We haven’t seen their menu yet, but considering the Slanted Door’s reputation, we’re excited about the newcomer.

Nuteria
82 5th Ave.
347.370.4444 | nutelleriany.com

Kids and adults alike crave the wonder that is Nutella, so we’re confident that Nuteria will quickly become a popular after-dinner spot. We’re also confident that it will become a popular pre-dinner spot for those who simply can’t help themselves. This chocolate and hazelnut wonderland offers crepes, toasts, and waffles lusciously slathered with Nutella. You couldn’t possibly go wrong with Nutella hot chocolate or a straight shot of the spread either. Eataly has their own version of a Nutella bar in Manhattan, which has also been getting plenty of attention, but now that Nuteria is open for business locally, you won’t have to hop on the subway. You can just stroll down to Fifth Avenue in your sweatpants and spread love the Brooklyn way—with a generous schmear of Nutella!

Buttermilk Bakeshop
339 7th Ave.
347.689.4376 | buttermilkbakeshop.com

Buttermilk Bakeshop is the quaintest, sweetest bakeshop around town. Its pink, sugary set-up may even persuade you to host a cupcake party for your five-year-old niece. Owner Kate Rosenhaus has a slew of impressive titles and awards: she was formerly the head pastry chef at David Burke Restaurant Group, she took home the gold on Food Network’s “Sweet Genius,” and her recipes have appeared in seemingly every food-centric publication on the stands. Buttermilk has a plethora of baked goods available, everything from freshly-baked breakfast croissants to Nutella Lovebits (cookies topped with a spoonful of Nutella and flecked with sea salt), and from home-made granola to seasonal pies. The open kitchen lets you peer into the inner-workings of the baking process where Rosehaus and co. are hard at work on the shop’s set menu of sugary treats, as well as customized options. We’ll bet you fifty-bucks that someone has asked for sriracha-frosting cupcakes.

Brooklyn Flea at PS32
180 7th Ave.
Saturday and Sunday 10 a.m.-5 p.m. | brooklynflea.com/markets/park-slope-p-s-321

Eric Demby’s Brooklyn-branded empire has expanded to The Slope. Set on the backdrop of an elementary school playground, the PS 321 Flea seems to encapsulate some serious Park Slope stereotypes. Think: slides, heirloom nicknacks for your brownstone, and twee locavore eats. In addition to numerous vendors that sell vintage clothing, furniture, and photographs of random families from 1910, the flea hosts “Smorg Junior,” which is “a sort of minor league for startup vendors to test and tweak their menus before graduating to a larger menu.” Those Vietnamese hotdogs had to start somewhere, right?

BYKlyn Cycle
258 Flatbush Ave.
347.987.4771| byklyn.com

After eating at all of the places above, you’ll probably be looking for a way to burn off all those carbs and booze-infused desserts. It may be too chilly to run around Prospect Park; bike lanes are potentially icy; and taking the DIY approach with a YouTube workout series is not really a sustainable strategy. So, grab your gym bag and earbuds, and head down to the new BKLyn Cycle location on Flatbush, where you can spin your heart out in an energetic yet comfortable (and dog-friendly!) environment. Having recently moved to Park Slope from Bed-Stuy, fitness enthusiast Amy Glosser’s new studio BKLlyn Cycle offers a local value alternative to the popular SoulCycle. It is also a much-needed replacement for the recently closed Cycle Bar on Fifth Avenue, which was a favorite workout locale for many a Slopian stationary-biker. So: whether you decide to use it for your regular workout routine or even as a training facility for the Montauk Century, BKLyn Cycle is a great place to let off some steam and get fit. ◆

Have you opened a new business or spotted a new face in the Park Slope, South Slope, or Prospect Heights area? Send your tip to office@psreader.com

The First Rule of Book Club

January 16, 2015 By admin Filed Under: Hypocrite's Almanac

Dear Hypocrite,

I have been in a book club for eight years. Together, we’ve weathered two divorces, three births, two bouts with cancer, and the death of a member’s husband in an automobile accident four years ago. Although we rarely see each other outside of book club, we enjoy one another’s company. There is one exception, however. “Laura” drives us all crazy. Laura is about six-feet tall with long dyed blond hair. She has so many regular facial treatments that her face is incapable of expression. Her contributions to the discussion of the books are inane. Last month we read a novel that took place in China. “Why would anyone chose to read about China?” she said. When we read The Goldfinch she found the book “dumb” because it was “barely even about the painting.” She loves to gossip and make fun of people who’ve been in book club over the years but for some reason or other didn’t last. “Remember that girl who lived in Prospect Heights? She didn’t have a single glass that matched. I had to drink out of a JAR!” I’ve shared my feelings regarding her with the others and when she’s not there, we’ll often laugh over the ridiculous things she’s said. When she is there, we’ll sneak eye-rolls during her comments. Because she was a founding member, (six out of eleven of us are) we haven’t thought was right to kick her out. She’s our problem child.

Last Sunday, Marci, the de facto chairwoman of book club, sent an email around to the group (minus Laura) asking about the possibility of having our next meeting at Laura’s new house in the Hamptons. Laura recently married a man (her fourth husband) with a massive fortune. He was going to be out of the country on Laura’s birthday weekend so she invited us all to join her there to talk about Brideshead Revisited. The setting couldn’t be more perfect with its indoor pool and SEVEN bedrooms. The group was thrilled at the idea. Menu ideas and drink themes for the weekend were debated, even period dress was floated for the book discussion itself. Someone proposed taking a cake up for Laura’s birthday. I responded with “But with that face, how will we know if she is really surprised?”

You guessed it, at some point Laura had been added to the chain. The way my phone displays emails I sometimes miss one if they come fast and furiously. This is no excuse for my carelessness, it’s just to let you know I’m not a total idiot. If there were any more emails about the weekend, I didn’t get them. I felt awful. While I don’t consider Laura a friend, I would never intentionally hurt her. I quickly wrote her a private apology begging for forgiveness.

The next morning I received an email from Laura telling me I was no longer welcome at book club. The group was CCed. She felt betrayed that I had used a public forum to make fun of her and that she would feel uncomfortable remaining in the group if I was still present. I immediately wrote a group email apologizing for my remarks calling them rude and callous. I was deeply sorry for the hurt I’d caused her and the damage I’d done to the group’s sense of trust. I asked to be forgiven and to be allowed to stay in book club. “Book club means the world to me,” I wrote, “I can’t imagine my life without it.” This time Laura wrote a single sentence back to me alone. “You should of thought of that before you shot your mouth off.”

I’m really upset. I know what I did was completely wrong and hurtful but I don’t think I deserve to be kicked out. The other members say their hands are tied. They’ve spoken to Laura on my behalf but she is not budging. She wants me out. I know this is going to sound ridiculous but I have a MFA in creative writing. I suspect Laura doesn’t even read the books. This expulsion seems totally unfair. What can I do?

Wrongly Banished from Book Club

—

Dear Banished,

Whoa. You did a really stupid thing. I would’ve thought everyone had learned by now that email is not the place for gossip, insulting people, or sarcasm. The only humor that completely translates is of the “knock, knock” variety. And you slammed someone in a ‘reply all?’ Girl, were you born yesterday?

We all gossip and talk shit about each other. We can only hope that our friends and family talk about our own shortcomings with love. Your slip up is not uncommon and neither is your reaction. We don’t want to hurt people’s feelings and we certainly don’t want to deal with any consequences. Laura served you a heaping plate of repercussions that you are now refusing to accept. She holds all the power in this situation as she’s the only one that can let you back in the group. Isn’t it nice when things are so clear?

When I was in my twenties, I walked into the kitchen where my roommates were talking about me. They were discussing how little I drank or smoked or lost control around them. In short, they said (in not the nicest language) that I was uptight and a drag and needed to relax. To give you a little context, one of my roommates had spent some time living in a car with her family growing up and had a steady stream of irate answering machine messages from people whom she had stood up on dates or meetings. Her common excuse was “I wasn’t in the mood.” The other roommate had disowned her parents (I sensed it was mutual although she never admitted this) and regularly spoke in tongues. I was the goody-goody of the group but was losing my sense of self and reality quickly. It took me overhearing them cruelly talk about me to realize that they were not my people, not my tribe. We had completely different values. I’m not saying we all can’t get along. We can. But when there is disdain between tribes, it’s best to limit contact. There’s no doubt Laura is aware that you don’t respect her. All this time you’ve been bothered by her comments and attitude, she’s felt your disdain. Granted, she doesn’t sound undeserving of your criticism (I do so enjoy a good book about China) but you can’t blame her if she’s relieved to be rid of you. Here’s the sad news for you: There’s absolutely no incentive for her to let you back in.

As I see it, you have two choices. You can start another book club. I’m sure you can put together a new crew of readers who are more capable of meeting your desired level of engagement with the material. Starting a group means you can hand pick members from different areas of your life and have a say over how meetings are organized. To me, I see this as a great opportunity. Imagine the fun of picking of people based on their diversity and intellect. I’m getting excited just thinking about it. If I didn’t have such horrible experiences with book clubs in the past I might think of asking to join yours. There’s no denying you’ll miss the history and the connections of your old book group. You can still stay in touch with the people you enjoyed the most. Maybe you can even find out what they’re reading and read it in your new group.

If the idea of starting a new group leaves you exhausted or sad, your only other option is to continue to grovel at the feet of the six-foot tall blonde. Construct a very heartfelt and personal apology detailing how wrong you were and why you think you did what you did. Tell her you’re available to talk and would like to do it over a fancy lunch on your dime. It’s her prerogative to say no and hold onto this slight forever. She could surprise you and forgive but I don’t have high hopes. You insulted her appearance. Publicly. From the sound of it, her looks are very, very important to her. You went right for her jugular. Big time.

Banished, cut your losses. That’s my advice. Start your own group and create new history with them. I’ll be oh-so-happily surprised if you write to tell me Laura’s let you back in and you’re all reading Snow Flower and The Secret Fan. I don’t think it’ll happen though. You learned a lesson. No talk bad about people in email. If Confucius were alive today, he’d tell you the same thing.

See you next time. ◆

The Winter of Our Discontent

January 16, 2015 By admin Filed Under: Dispatches From Babyville

Like most two-year-olds, my daughter cannot abide winter gear. I can’t know for sure why hats and mittens are so anathema to her, though I can speculate. From her reaction’s epic proportions, I surmise the stakes are pretty high, so maybe it’s an object permanence issue and she believes that when she puts the mittens on, her hands cease to exist. Or it could be that the mittens prevent her from cramming Goldfish into her mouth like it’s closing time at the cheddar cracker bar. Whatever the reason, my daughter, affectionately known in these parts as Terza, will not keep hats and mittens on. Not if I sing like Elmo, not if I ply her with cookies. Not for any reason.

For a while I made the rookie mistake of believing that I could solve the problem by buying the right stuff. I tried hats that velcro under the chin and hats with long yarn braids on the sides that you can tie in Houdini-proof knots and hats with bear ears and bunny ears and cat ears. I even tried a rainbow-colored, fleece jester hat that virtually screams, “THIS IS FUN! THE OPPOSITE OF TORTURE!” You can guess what my success rate was, based on the number of capital letters I just used.

Fail. Total fail.

I think her record time for keeping a hat on was about thirty seconds. Ditto with the mittens. She can’t manage to insert a spoonful of yogurt directly into her mouth half the time but man, can she get around knots.

So, we tried collaborative problem-solving. I ended up doing most of the heavy lifting, outlining the problem, proposing possible reasons why this problem existed (maybe the hat is too tight and constricting?), summing up her needs (to feel comfortable) and mine (to protect her from frostbite) and possible solutions (use a hood in lieu of a hat!), Her contribution? The word “No” and it’s many variations, including, “No I WON’T!” and “I no LIKE IT!” and even “No way Jose!”

Now, an aversion to winter gear is all very well and good when it’s forty degrees or thirty degrees, or hell, even twenty degrees. But when the temperatures get into the single digits, it’s a different story. When it gets so cold that scientists coin special phrases to describe the weather–phrases that involve the noun “vortex”—I can’t tolerate Terza’s intolerance of winter gear. Not when she and I have a daily drop-off walk that takes twenty minutes. We do more trekking than the Greely expedition, and if I learned anything from watching that harrowing documentary, it’s: if you don’t come prepared to the Arctic, you’ll all end up eating each other.
“Just wait until she gets cold enough,” everyone likes to say, “She’ll put those hat and gloves on then.”

It is sound reasoning, to be sure. Logical. It is however, utter horse-crap, at least in my daughter’s case. I know because I tested the theory. The temperature dropped lower and lower, until it was hovering at five degrees, just above zero, and I told myself, “Now, we will hit her breaking point, She’ll be so cold, she’ll immediately beg for hat and mittens.” We walked outside, and even though I was wearing leather gloves and a wool hat with a down hood pulled up over my head, my hands and ears went numb within a minute.

Not only would Terza not wear her mittens, she baited me into shedding my gloves every two blocks so that I could attempt to yank hers back on again. As soon as I’d put my gloves back on and secure the wind cover onto the stroller, I’d see she’d already pulled off her mittens again—the allegedly “toddler-proof” mittens which zip up the sides and velcro closed at the wrist. After a few rounds of this Sisyphesean game, I decided to just give up on the mittens, and attempted to persuade her—all while standing on the street corner, fighting the gale-force winds—to please, PLEASE, tuck her hands into the cozy, criminally-fluffy stroller sleeping bag I’d zipped her lower half into. What I got was her default response: “NEVER!” And screaming, of course. Endless screaming, which wasn’t surprising considering her fingers were probably shooting with pain from the unbearable cold.

That is when I realized that the people who told me she’d wear the gloves when she got cold enough do not know toddlers. Toddlers don’t have a terrific grasp on cause and effect. The logic of “If you don’t wear your mittens, your fingers will be cold” is very persuasive to a five- or seven- or ten-year-old, but totally meaningless to most two-year-olds.

Terza was obviously thinking “It is freezing!” and “I deplore mittens” but could not understand that these two things were correlated in any way. So, she wailed and wailed and looked at me like, “For God’s sake, woman, I’m freezing to death out here. Do something! And while you’re at it, get those hideous mittens out of my face!”

It’s enough to make a girl dream of living in Tampa.

“So let her get frostbite!” you might say. But think for a second about what an imposition a case of frostbite would be on my already hectic schedule.

Look, I get it. There are some things—many things—beyond our control as parents. Some behaviors that can not be modified despite bribes, punishments, distraction techniques, and the force of reason. One of the hardest things I’ve learned to do as a parent is accept this and just let it go, let the natural consequences unfold.

And then, other times, I don’t let go. Other times, I resort to duct tape.

In a moment of inspiration, I strolled screaming, kicking, totally indignant Terza into the nearest hardware store, bought a roll of duct tape and duct-taped those mittens right onto the sleeve of her jacket. Then, when she was helpless to stop me, I yanked the red, fleece-lined, bear-eared hat on her head. Cruel, awful, overbearing me. She was warm, did not require medical attention, and retained the use of all her digits.

Sometimes the only choice you have as a parent is between crappy and slightly less crappy. Between screaming with frostbite and screaming without frostbite. So you choose the lesser of two crappys. And you wait for spring. ◆

Nicole C. Kear is the author of the memoir Now I See You (St. Martin’s, June ‘14) and the mom behind the blog, A Mom Amok. You can find more info about her and her work at nicolekear.com.

Left of the Dial

October 13, 2014 By admin Filed Under: Brooklyn Mixtape

Radio has had a profound influence on my life. I remember as a tween, in my basement after a particularly violent hurricane, feverishly tuning my hand-held transistor radio for signs of life. Somewhere out of the ether came Duran Duran’s “Hold Back the Rain,” a deeper track from the album Rio, not usually played on the air. The station was WLIR, and it became my constant companion through middle and high school. Through it, I discovered bands like The Smiths, Big Audio Dynamite, the B-52s and a larger world of new music. Later, as I expanded my horizons, I started tuning into the local college station, WXCI in Danbury, CT. I began to follow the disc jockeys, learning their personalities and preferences. I chose to attend this college solely because of the radio station, understanding that I could become part of this world and have the music vaults at my fingertips.

There is a distinct difference between commercial and public radio, aside from the advertising and pledge drives. Because commercial radio is beholden to advertisers and record companies, they make their money mostly by appeasing the behemoths of the record industry. By adopting the Top-40 model of play, they stick to a formula of playing popular songs. If you feel like you’re listening to the same ten songs over and over again, it’s because you are. On the other hand, independent stations allow DJs to choose their playlists. Some have newer songs in rotation to maintain continuity between the various DJs and their preferences. Some do not. These radio stations can generally be found away from high-profile frequencies, in the middle of the dial (on the old, pre-digital radios).

The next time you turn on your radio, try something new. Tune into the frequencies clustered to the “left of the dial,” in the lower digits, the low 90s. You’re bound to find something new. If you’re looking for someplace to start, here are some of my favorite music stations.

RADIO STATIONS

90.7 WFUV
Fordham University’s noncommercial, member-supported radio station has been in existence for sixty-five years. As such, it has served as an important source of “music discovery” for listeners throughout the five boroughs. Every single DJ on WFUV not only loves music, but is an encyclopedia of knowledge. Each one plays a variety of contemporary, new, local, and world music, sometimes making connections that are mind-blowing. Listening provides a musical education. On the weekends they also feature three separate Irish-themed shows, even one that teaches Gaelic. Tune in weekdays at noon for their all-request mix-tape (call in early to make your own request) for a truly eclectic mix of people’s tastes around the city.

91.1 WFMU
WFMU is the longest running freeform radio station in the United States. That statement should be intriguing enough. What keeps this station running? Its tongue-in-cheek devotion to the eclectic, unique, interesting, and intelligent. Every DJ brings something completely different, and each show can vary by the DJ’s whim. And this is a beautiful thing. WFMU’s program guide (and programs) is legendary. The schedule changes twice a year (in October and June) and is open to new ideas, if you have a proposal for a show. It provides everything from world music, topical call-in shows, the occasional cooking show, and an amazing mix of personalities. Just dive in and listen because as one program, Dark Side of the Soul, is described as “an emotional trainwreck in fluffy, bunny slippers,” expectations should be cast to the wind.

99.5 WBAI
Proclaimed “Free Speech Radio,” New York City’s own WBAI hosts a diverse collection of shows. Their …And You Don’t Stop (Friday nights 8.–10 p.m.) promises to be “the Epicenter of Hip Hop and Rap.” Host Chuck D of Public Enemy plays a mix of old-school and brand new music. If hip hop’s not your thing, you can find a wide range of other music shows devoted to reggae, big band, soul, and just about any other type of music you might find interesting.

WQXR 105.9
WQXR is the classical music sister station to our beloved WNYC. With a focus on the live music, WQXR offers a New York centric spin to this format. Live performances are broadcast from the Frick Gallery, and listeners can also hear performances from the New York Philharmonic and Carnegie Hall. There are a number of shows focusing on music discovery, including a Classics for Kids airing Saturday mornings. Every Saturday at 1:00 p.m. Saturday from the Opera broadcasts a new opera from some of the world’s most renowned opera companies.

SHOWS

The Alternate Side
powered by WFUV
91.5 FM Weekdays 6 a.m.–12 p.m.
This specialty show focuses on indie rock—old standards like The Cure, The Stooges, and Sioxsie & the Banshees, as well as new music from acts like Interpol, Alt-J, and The Antlers. With in-station performances by touring bands and updates on upcoming albums and NYC appearances, these DJs keep you updated on what’s new with the music scene with a nod to the music that influenced it. You can catch The Alternate Side live from 6 a.m.–12 p.m. Mondays through Fridays at 91.5 FM, and 24/7 online at
www.thealternateside.org.

NYC’s Soundcheck
93.9 FM Weeknights at 9:00 p.m.
John Schaeffer hosts this nightly talk show about music, featuring interviews and live performances. His discussions veer from the traditional music topics and instead dig deeper into music as we interact with it. In his “Pick Three” segment he asks guest musicians and non-musicians to choose three of their favorite songs. “Vanished Venues” visits the stories behind some of the city’s beloved, but disappearing music venues. Each show offers something engaging, humorous, and thought-provoking.

INTERNET RADIO

As with most things, the Internet has completely opened the global radio market. Using apps like TuneIn and iHeartRadio, you can access just about any station on the planet. Most radio stations, public and commercial, have links on their home sites that allow for listening right on your tablet or computer. Locally, Newtown Radio (www.newtownradio.com) out of Bushwick focuses on the absolute latest music to be found. Expanding your horizons, Little Records Radio (www.littlerecords.net), an independent station based out of Baltimore, focuses on underground rock from the ‘80s and compiles amazing, eclectic playlists.

These stations and shows are merely suggestions, and just touch the tip of the radio iceberg. Colleges around the five boroughs, NYU and Kingsborough College for example, boast fantastic radio stations with shows rotating each semester as fresh students join their ranks. The NYC radio dial is peppered with stations playing music from around the world. The sounds and view-points expressed are as diverse as the city itself.

Tattoo You

October 13, 2014 By admin Filed Under: Park Slope Life

It may well be the definitive brownstone Brooklyn neighborhood: so often synonymous with lazy brunches, tree-lined streets and the affectionately nicknamed ‘stroller wars.’ However, there’s another side to the Slope and its surrounds, with the past few years witnessing the emergence of not just bistros, small bars, and green markets—but also that of tattoo studios.

Owned by husband-and-wife team Valerie and Kenny Restrepo, Leathernecks’ Fifth Avenue location smells reassuringly of antiseptic and pulls in a mix of first-time locals and heavily inked return clients. Valerie Restrepo has noticed an uptick in the acceptance of tattoos amongst the general populace, with teachers and city workers making up a greater slice of their clientele than in previous years. “It’s nice to see that there’s more acceptance in the workplace,” she said. “It’s becoming respected as a form of fine art—it’s a really beautiful thing.”

Opening in 2009, Leathernecks is one of a handful of studios capitalizing on the growing commercial potential of the areas bordering Park Slope. Formerly unsung industrial sites like Gowanus and South Slope are leading the charge, with chic stomping grounds Carroll Gardens and Cobble Hill following suit. “We just love the area,” said Restrepo, who moved from Bensonhurst to be closer to the studio. The team at Triple Diamond Tattoos—opened in 2012 on Third Avenue—is similarly effusive about the neighborhood. “We really loved the energy of Gowanus, and the neighborhood was still a mostly blank canvas, like a new frontier for Brooklyn—dicey, old-world, and authentic,” said co-owner Shannon Moran. “It kind of felt like the wild west of Brooklyn in the beginning. We saw a lot of other small business owners trying to pave their dreams here, and it seemed like a natural fit for us.” Smith Street staple Brooklyn Tattoo has called the area home since 2008, following stints in Boerum Hill and Brooklyn Heights. “There hadn’t really been a tattoo shop in any of these neighborhoods before us,” said co-owner Adam Suerte. “We were the first one to settle on Smith Street.”

Each of the studios places a heavy emphasis on custom work, allowing the artists and clients to play with ideas for a one-of-a-kind end result. At Leathernecks, the artist roster stands at nine strong (helmed by Kenny Restrepo), quickly growing from four when the dual-level studio first opened. Triple Diamond, a more boutique operation, has four resident artists—including co-owner Jon Jon Lane—and typically hosts up to four guest artists at a time. Suerte and co-owner Willie Paredes man the needles at Brooklyn Tattoo, along with three other permanent artists and a changing crop of guest artists. An essential part of the tattooing industry, the prevalence of guest artists allows for constant creative cross-pollination.

This evolving artistry goes hand in hand with changing trends. “In the ‘90s Chinese and Kanji characters were very popular, and still are to some degree,” said Suerte. These days you see a lot more finger tattoos, infinity symbols, tattoos behind the ears, feathers turning into birds.” At Triple Diamond, they’re witnessing a rise in watercolors and delicate lines. “Watercolor tattoos are very big at the moment,” said Moran. “Jon Jon is amazing at them and has been doing them ahead of the craze for quite some time. Very fine-line geometric tattoos are also quite popular lately.” The team at Leathernecks has noticed more portrait-style tattoos, as well as tweaks on classic Sailor Jerry styles. “We definitely have more people coming in for portraits lately,” said Restrepo. “But we do a broad range of styles, and always work with the customer so they don’t end up with someone else’s tattoo.”

Restrepo, Moran, and Suerte all credit the constant presence of tattoos in the media as a driving factor in their increasing popularity. Reality shows like Miami Ink and its ilk have contributed to greater exposure of the subculture, familiarizing viewers with the intricacies of the industry. “The proliferation of tattoo TV shows, as well as celebrities in high profile entertainment mediums getting tattoos has encouraged people of varying backgrounds to get tattooed more frequently,” said Suerte—a sentiment backed by others in the industry. “Majorly, tattooing has become way more acceptable,” said Moran, gauging the influence of reality TV. Restrepo agreed: “People are coming in with more elaborate ideas,” she said, referring to both the studio and various tattoo conventions, which Leathernecks presents at roughly once a month. Indeed, the local studios tend to have a firm working rapport, with Leathernecks regularly attending the Triple Diamond-run convention, the Visionary Tattoo Arts Festival (hosted annually in Asbury, New Jersey).

Armed with a passion for tattooing as a brand of fine art, Moran, Restrepo and Suerte all have backgrounds in other industries—Moran as an art director for Inked magazine, while Restrepo was a private investigator for the better part of a decade before turning her hand to running the studio. Suerte and his team are grounded in visual arts: “Everyone in the shop were artists long before they were tattooers,” he said. “It’s almost a prerequisite for working here.”

This holistic view shared by the studios infuses each with a distinct personality. Moran and Lane’s creative influences are immediately evident in the macabre allure of Triple Diamond’s space. “We have an extensive collection of antique human and animal specimens including skulls, bones, mummified, taxidermy, and wet specimens and other natural artifacts,” said Moran. “Jon Jon disarticulates human and animal skulls in his basement workshop here at the shop, and we also have a passion for wood carvings and Moroccan metal work.” Indeed, crossing the threshold into Triple Diamond is like stepping into a Wunderkammer—with the curios proving to be a near-perfect distraction from the persistent buzz of the tattoo machines.

A space to the back of Leathernecks is lined with an array of reference volumes for clients to seek inspiration and artists to hone their talents: everything from comic books to animal drawings, pin-ups to military history (the nominal nod to the armed forces comes courtesy of Kenny Restrepo’s time as a Marine), human anatomy, and traditional flash etches. The walls are playfully adorned with movie posters and figurines of Superman, Batman, and the Hulk—a contrast to the ornate mirror, exposed ceiling beams, and imposing stag bust. Over at Brooklyn Tattoo, their creative tastes and efforts spill into the gallery next door, the Urban Folk Art Studio (the exhibition space for Suerte’s art collective), showcasing contemporary paintings, photography, graffiti, and comic art.

Never content to be boxed and labeled, Park Slope and its surrounding South Brooklyn areas might not be the most obvious place for the body art industry. But the next time you’re picking up groceries or going for a jog, take a peek at the people around you: you might just glimpse great art in unexpected places.

Fasten Your Seat Belts

October 13, 2014 By admin Filed Under: Hypocrite's Almanac

Dear Hypocrite,

Hi, it’s Kristy and Gary. Thanks so much for coming to our wedding this past summer. Don’t worry that you haven’t gotten us a gift yet. Like we said in the email, we don’t need anything. We do want something from you, though. We thought you might give us some good old-fashioned marriage advice. Although we’ve been together for a long time before we got married we thought it would be fitting to mark this new chapter with a few thoughts on what makes a good legal partnership from the hypocrite herself. How about it? You’ve been married for at least a decade. How do you keep the love alive?

Love, K & G

Kristy and Gary,

Let me start off by saying it was a privilege to attend your wedding. The food was incredible. Good Fork! Korean fusion is my all-time favorite food group. I was hoping the cake was kimchi-flavored but then when it wasn’t I was thankful. That frosting! Was it made of angel fat? It was the best frosting I’ve ever had. And Kristy, you were a vision. Who knew you could wear a wedding dress inside out? The hat, the gloves…you looked like yourself but magical, which is exactly how I believe a bride should look. The music? The lead singer was the miracle love child of Billie Holiday and Edith Piaf. I didn’t dance more because I couldn’t shift from witnessing the sheer brilliance of the sounds coming from the stage. It was hard to turn the awe off and get my groove on, you know?

And then you sang together. Good Lord above! Watching two people who love each other make music together is a mystical experience. Remember when Bruce and Julianne broke up and we saw him sing “Cover Me” with Patti for the first time? Despite the shocking news from Mike Tyson and Robin Givens the week before, seeing Bruce and Patti proved that love really was alive and well in the late ‘80s.

Promise me baby you won’t let them find us
Hold me in your arms, let’s let our love blind us
Cover me, shut the door and cover me.

You guys sang John Prine’s “In Spite of Ourselves” —your version of “Cover Me”.

In spite of ourselves
We’ll end up a’sittin’ on a rainbow
Against all odds
Honey, we’re the big door prize
We’re gonna spite our noses
Right off of our faces
There won’t be nothin’ but big old hearts
Dancin’ in our eyes.

It was awesome to behold.

The only low point of the evening was that I wore stupid shoes and drove from the suburbs so I couldn’t drink a drop. I’m a terrible driver even when sober so I didn’t dare sample those alcoholic ice pops the woman was handing out by the entrance. I do think my daughter had one by accident—or someone got her high in the bathroom. She keeps asking me when you’re getting married again.

On to your request. I can’t imagine any advice will be news to you. You guys could just as easily school me on how to keep a relationship strong. Yet, I will honor your request in this very public forum on the occasion of your nuptials (weirdest word ever). Know that the hard part is over. You did it. You managed to find each other. As you probably are aware, the big secret to a successful marriage is marrying the right person. You need to marry someone that you can be stuck at the airport with for thirty-nine hours. Everything else is negotiable. For example: I love to camp. My husband doesn’t like being outside. He loves gadgets. I long for my old flip phone. We don’t have much in common but there is no one I’d rather get trapped in an elevator with.
Okay. The official advice giving section starts now!

Go to bed mad. That old saying about never going to bed mad is hooey. Haven’t you noticed that shit becomes crazy at night? When the sun goes down our thinking distorts which is the reason nightmares only happen at night. If you have a bad dream during that day, you wake up and you’re like, “Whoa, I can’t believe I actually dreamt about vampires.” At night you wake up from a dream and you are 1000% certain that there is a brood of vampires downstairs in your kitchen sharpening the knives!! Go to bed mad and then see how you feel in the morning. If whatever it was still bothers you, make a time to talk to your beloved.

The time for selfishness is officially over. You can’t fuel a marriage on ‘me first.’ It just won’t work. Don’t eat the last piece of pie. Take out the trash when your partner is tired. Give those backrubs. Treat your partner like you want to be treated. If you’re competitive, see if you can be the best person in the relationship.

Take a breath when you get excited. Reacting quickly and from the gut is overrated in our age. It was great when there was a tiger is loose in the village but it’s not needed when your partner comes home with the fifth parking ticket in a month. Take care in how you communicate. Wait if you’re irate. (That is a ridiculous sentence but I’m leaving it.) While we’re on the subject of communication, remember that we all communicate in our own way. Some people tell a story to get across the nuances of the situation. Others lead with the main point. When it’s important information, it’s best to communicate to your partner in the way he can most easily process. Learn how your mate relates and honor that, don’t try to change him or her.

Space. Give your partner space. Let her follow her dreams, big or small. Last week I had a dream I rode a horse. When I woke up the next morning I got in the car with my daughter and we went on a trail ride. My husband did not come. It wasn’t his dream and he had foot surgery the day before. Boy, that sure was a literal example of let-your-partner-follow-her-dream…but you get what I’m saying though, right?

Apologize when you know you’ve been a jerk even if you don’t think your partner needs to hear it. Get in the habit of saying sorry. And make sure you give him a pure apology—no clause attached. It’s a simple “I was an idiot.” You can try to explain what led you to your bad behavior but make sure you’re not hunting for a return apology from your partner. It’s a one-way operation.

Have sex. I know, I bet that you’re like WHAT!?! Why in the world would she say that!?! I say it because when you get on in marriage years you get tired and sex seems like one more thing on the to-do list when all you want to do is watch your Netflix show or read your book club book. Make time for it. You might not be in the mood but show up. Take a shower and get in bed or in the car or book a room at a seedy motel. Just do it. That’s all I’m going to say. I don’t want to make you (or my kids, if they’re reading this) uncomfortable. That would be the worst wedding present ever.

Kristy and Gary, on behalf of married people everywhere, welcome to the club! You are a stellar couple and we’re so happy that you’ve found one another. Our club has no secret handshake, no T-shirt, no official flag or dance. The only thing we married people have in common (besides our tax filing status) is that we all stood in front of a handful of people or more and said we pick THIS person to share our lives with. I was truly honored that I got to see that moment in your lives. May you continue to make beautiful music as you grow old together. And if you have an anniversary party or if you renew your vows, my daughter would really like to be there.

That’s all for now. See you next time.

Amy Sohn

October 13, 2014 By admin Filed Under: The Reader Interview

This past July saw the fifth release from bestselling author, screenwriter and Park Slope mother, Amy Sohn. The Actress is a seductive, rags-to-riches Cinderella story where Prince Charming is not all he appears to be. Set against the backdrop of Hollywood glitz, the sexy page-turner, complete with film premiers, on-the-set scandals and duplicitous agents, also asks deeper questions about authenticity, loyalty, and power. How long can we look the other way when our values are comprised and hard-fought ambitions are at stake? While The Actress starred on the every must-read-beach-list, don’t let the season change stop you from delving into this captivating book. We caught up with the Brooklyn native to discuss her latest work.

Park Slope Reader: Congratulations on your riveting new novel The Actress. Your two previous novels, Prospect Park West and Motherland took place in Park Slope where you currently reside. Can you describe the genesis of this Hollywood-centric book?

Amy Sohn: It’s not a total departure for me—some of Motherland took place in Los Angeles, and all of my books have had screenwriters and actors as characters. I felt I had mined as much of the Brooklyn BoBo parents demographic as I could, and I was interested in writing something different, set in a different locale. I had been a child actress and tried it briefly as an adult in my early twenties but I wasn’t very good. I wanted to write about a young actress who marries an older man and finds out her marriage is not what she thought. I also wanted to explore the darkness of marriage set against the backdrop of modern-day Hollywood, without making it about material possessions and glitz and glam. I feel I succeeded in that last goal.

Who were your inspirations for the protagonist Maddy Freed?

Many young ingenues from the 1940s to today—too many to name. But the biggest influence on Maddy was Isabel Archer in The Portrait of a Lady. The book is an homage to Henry James’ book. I love the idea of a twentysomething whose inability to listen to anyone but herself is both her greatest quality and the source of her downfall. I found Isabel frustrating and I know some readers will find Maddy frustrating, but Maddy is authentic. How many of us can say we are proud of every choice we made in our twenties?

Maddy Freed possesses a dearth of self-awareness, yet is surrounded by strong, albeit flawed, female characters. Was this contrast intentional?

I think Maddy is self-aware, but she is also totally in love and that gets in the way of her better instincts. Bridget, her manager, was an important character for me—an older woman who rose up in Hollywood when there were few female role models. Even though Bridget is scheming, I understand her. She developed a tough skin because she had to, and now she’s remote and cut off from her own feelings. Kira is also one of my favorite characters, Maddy’s friend and acting partner. I wanted Maddy to have another voice out there showing her that there was another path to professional success than the one that Kira feels Maddy has taken.

The Actress has been referred to as “a Tom Cruise roman à clef,” with a smattering of George Clooney mixed in. Who were your influences for the Steven Weller character?

Steven is an amalgam, including men I’ve dated. That rakish older guy who seems really cultured until you start to scratch the surface, who claims to want an intelligent female partner but doesn’t want her to be smarter than he is. Good hair, great looks. He’s getting a little older and trying to figure out how to stay relevant. And of course, Steven was influenced by the Henry James character Gilbert Osmond, one of the best character names ever.

Your comprehensive knowledge of the Hollywood machine certainly required more than opening up “Page Six”. What kind of research went into writing The Actress?

I consulted with entertainment lawyers, divorce lawyers, agents, managers, and publicists. I talked to screenwriters and a New School acting alum. I read Hollywood biographies and acting manuals watched many, many movies. It’s great to have Netflix as your procrastination/research.

Prior to becoming a writer, had you ever considered becoming an actress?

I had some success with theater acting in childhood and then went off to college, tried auditioning for about a year, and realized I didn’t really want to do it. I wasn’t studying and I wasn’t losing weight, against my agent’s advice. I booked a Law & Order and did some regional theater, which was fun, but I realized I didn’t like the lack of control that actors have. Writing was a way to make art without having to be allowed to do it.

You’re no stranger to telling a sexy tale, and The Actress doesn’t disappoint in this area. Yet, the novel asks deeper questions about authenticity and fidelity. Would you say this depth parallels your growth as a person and a writer?

That is a very flattering question! I feel this is my most serious novel. It definitely goes into darker territory than the Brooklyn novels, though Motherland is also very twisted. I am fascinated by the internal life of a marriage. I’m also interested in the plight of young women in Hollywood. I don’t think it’s a healthy place for them, though some of that is changing now that there are more women writer-creators.

If Hollywood is symbolic of disingenuous would you say Brooklyn represents the opposite?

Brooklyn can be very disingenuous too—all the coded language around real estate and class. There are not as many phonies in Brooklyn, though. Here the first question at a party is “What do you do?” In LA the first question is “How old are you?” In a way they are the same question but the LA context is, “How can I evaluate you—physically or monetarily—in relation to your time on this earth?”

I also notice that in LA people always say, “You look fantastic!” to each other. That is considered a high compliment there. Here we wouldn’t be openly looks-oriented; that would be seen as shallow. And there is definitely less plastic surgery in brownstone Brooklyn.

Any clues about what Amy Sohn fans can expect next?

I’m working on a screenplay involving women and madness.

Getting It Right

October 13, 2014 By admin Filed Under: Eat Local

It feels like restaurants pop-up and then close shop in Park Slope everytime you turn around. One minute there’s a new cafe opening its doors in Brooklyn’s notoriously competitive restaurant industry, and the next minute there’s a “For Rent” sign taped outside its dirtied window. But, occasionally, a restaurant gets it right: Cooks up great food, builds its clientele, and establishes a lasting reputation. The restaurants listed below have accomplished just that and have been in business for ten or (in some cases) more years. So, take a gander, make some mental (or digital) notes, and revel in the following restaurants’ not-too-shabby success.

12th STREET BAR AND GRILL
1123 8th Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11215

What makes Park Slope special is the people. The neighborhood consists of the old-school Park Slopians—artists and writers—and an influx of new professionals. This creates a vibrant, eclectic neighborhood mix.
—John DeLillo, Co-Owner of 12th Street Bar & Grill.

The 12th Street Bar & Grill takes classic recipes from all over the globe—Southern France, Italy, the Middle East, and Lousiana—and interprets them through the eyes of a cosmopolitan Brooklynite. Tuna tartare comes laced with ginger and soy, while a classic steak is enhanced by an espresso rub, and a lunchtime po boy is topped with anchovy aioli and shaved fennel. The eighteen-year-old restaurant also strives to incorporate Brooklyn-made ingredients into its fare, which includes a Brooklyn Brine-topped burger, and a cocktail list feautring local distilleries such as Clinton Hill’s Brooklyn Republic Vodka and Ownie’s Rum in East Williamsburg.

AL DI LA
248 5th Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11215

[Cooking] clicked and felt right immediately. I loved everything about it. I sort of dropped everything else in my life and dove in.
—Anna Klinger, Chef and Co-Owner of Al Di La

Back in 1998, Al Di La helped fill the gastronomic void in Park Slope. And to this day, restaurant critics, cookbook authors, and the media generally consider Al Di La to be one of Brooklyn’s original pioneering restaurants. Al Di La’s Northern Italian menu includes a number of knockouts, such as braised rabbit with black olives and polenta, stewed cuttlefish and oxtail, and malfatti stuffed with swiss chard and ricotta. After eating here, the restaurant’s reputation as having some of the best food in Brooklyn, will be as clear as the Adriatic.

BLUE RIBBON
280 5th Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11215

Slathering honey over buckets of fried chicken from Chicken Delight in our hometown Morristown, New Jersey [is one of my favorite food memories]. The honey bear on the kitchen table started out as a way for our parents to get us to eat [healthy] stuff. It started out with grapefruit and it ended up on our fried chicken.
—Eric Bromberg, Co-Owner of Blue Ribbon

The Bromberg brothers’ Brooklyn outpost of Blue Ribbon, which opened in 2001, is at once polished and down-to-earth—a hard line to walk. Blue Ribbon’s menu features fairly traditional dishes with noteworthy spins, like a piece of roasted hake with a lemon tahini sauce or an oxtail fried rice that comes with the pleastantly surprising addition of daikon, shiitake, and bone marrow. Appetizers are particularly noteworthy: Sauteed calamari without an iota of rubberiness and an impossibly-luscious bone marrow and oxtail marmalade pairing. Blue Ribbon has fashioned comfortable fine-dining at its finest.

Convivium-Osteria-Michelle-Pulixi — Convivium Osteria

CONVIVIUM OSTERIA
68 5th Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11217

My husband’s family was really old-style. He grew up in Italy and his father was a butcher. They made their own prosciutti, cheese, olive oil, and wine. Our restaurant was very influenced by that.
—Michelle Pulixi, Co-Owner of Convivium Osteria.

Husband and wife duo Carlo and Michelle Pulixi opened Convivium Osteria on Park Slope’s Fifth Avenue at the turn of the millenium. The multi-roomed restaurant (each of which has a distinct identity) offers a melding of Italian, Spanish and Portugese fare that’s rustically-Mediterranean, seafood-heavy, and seasonally-influenced. Convivium Osteria’s long candlelit tables, matted copper pots, and rustic brick walls are transportive and fantastical. Standout dishes include: roman-style braised artichokes, large prawns roasted with pink salt, housemade ravioli stuffed with green apples and cinnamon capped with duck ragu, and a highly-acclaimed forty-eight ounce ribeye served on a wooden tray.

JOHNNY MACKS
1114 8th Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11215

Both my husband and I were born in Brooklyn. In fact, my husband is third generation Park Slope. His father and grandfather lived in the neighborhood. The building Johnny Macks is located in used to be a fruit store. My husband remembers going to it as a child. There’s really a lot of history here.
—Samantha Soliminy, Co-owner of Johnny Macks

Johnny Macks might take home the award for longest-running Park Slope eatery on this list. The joint originally flung its doors open as a bar in 1995, but a year later the owners added a kitchen, which churns out high-quality American comfort classics. The food at Johnny Macks is unpretentious bar food: Juicy burgers, oversized sandwhiches, hand-cut fries, and a full bar that includes milkshakes with a shot of booze-of-your-choice. With friendly service, and an easygoing and homey atmosphere, Johnny Macks is the kind of reliable joint a neighborhood could hope for.

MIRIAM
79 Fifth Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11217

I always loved cooking…When I was in the [Israeli] army, I cooked for the crew. Whenever we weren’t fighting, I cooked.
—Chef Rafi Hasid, Chef-Owner of Miriam

Miriam, Park Slope’s premier Israeli restaurant, has been serving Brooklynites a taste of the “land of milk and honey” since 2004. Chef Rafael Hasid plumbs his native Israeli cuisine—an amalgamation of Jewish food from around the globe—to illustrate how cross-pollination has informed Israeli cuisine (and culture). The bulk of Miriam’s dishes reflect Middle Eastern flavors like harissa, tahini, and pomegranate, which are incorporated into dishes like merges sausage, roasted eggplant, couscous, chicken shawarma and more. Additionally, unique spins on classic Ashkenazi dishes—like potato pancakes topped with eggs and labneh and shnitzle with beats, tomatoes and cucumbers—pepper the menu.

NANA
155 Fifth Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11217

I’ve been working in the restaurant industry for more than twenty years. I cooked, I bartended, and I waited tables. So when I opened my own place, I basically knew everything about the field.
—Eric Ong, Owner of Nana

Boasting the label of the first restaurant on Fifth Avenue to serve Japanese food, Nana is one of Park Slope’s longest-established Pan-Asian restaurants. The “pan” refers to dishes from Japan, Thailand, and Malaysia, each of which are cooked by a chef that specializes in one of the three respective cuisne. Popular dishes include a crispy whole red snapper with a sweet-sour sauce, mango shrimp with a kick of spice, and various noodle dishes like Pad See Ew and Pad Thai. There are also a myriad of traditional drinks spiked with Asian flavors, like lychee mojitos, mango margaritas, and sakeitinis.

SOTTO VOCE
225 7th Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11215

“Culinary school was my mother’s kitchen. I learned at her knee. I studied books, made some mistakes, burned a few things along the way, and when I got it right I opened my first restaurant and it’s still here.”

—Mario DiBiase, Chef and Owner of Sotto Voce

According to Sotto Voce’s owner Mario DiBase, 1998 was a turning point for Italian food in Park Slope. It marked the transition from the existing swath of red-sauce Italian-American restaurants to more “authentic” Italian food from the motherland. Sotto Voce’s grand opening gave Park Slopians regional Italian food, featuring traditional dishes originating from Italy’s heal to boot. Sotto Voce’s bill of fare includes classic antipasti, a wide range of pasta dishes, and reasonally-priced pollo, pesce, and carne. The romantic setting of Sotto Voce has even lead to quite a number of mid-meal marriage proposals (think: engagement rings buried into dessert batters).

Connection And Giving: The Power of Two Words

October 13, 2014 By admin Filed Under: Yoga

“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow.” – Melody Beattie

Before triangle pose and headstand, the term yoga was a philosophical study of how one could unite with the divine. Yoga means union: to yolk and come together. We can liberate all parts of our intellectual, emotional, spiritual, and physical bodies from the suffering of the human condition and unite with truth.

Gratitude is a key to liberation. From the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, we can remain grounded in gratefulness to sincerely unite ourselves with the true meaning of this time: connection and giving.

We can take time to be present enough to what is happening, acknowledge it, and make a connection. This act completes an energy exchange. I give something to you, you receive it and express gratitude. Transaction completed. Elements of yoga philosophy can assist in completing this cycle.

TIMELESS TEACHINGS

One of the seminal yoga texts, The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, are a collection of philosophical suggestions in how to reach enlightenment. Enlightenment encompasses concepts of liberation, divinity, bliss, peace, and truth. Sutra means thread, and these verses all weave together to create a beautiful resource of inspiration and encouragement. It is estimated that these offerings range from 5,000 B.C. to 300 A.D. Before yoga pants and downward facing dogs, sages were dedicating their lives to investigating and gathering information on how to live peaceful lives. Patanjali is said to be not only one single person, but an accumulation of sages, each having a jewel to offer.

One of the these jewels, santosha, is described in Patanjali’s sutras as contentment. One of the personal observances to remind us to accept what we have and do not have in our lives.

Sutra 1.42 By contentment, supreme joy is gained.

Gratitude is rooted in acceptance, from a place of non-judgement—by receiving what comes our way and acknowledging its purpose, whether in that moment or after time spent in reflection. And gratitude does not always have to be directed at a person; it can be directed towards a situation or turning point in your life.

At times, these turning points can seem like incredible obstacles or not ‘part of the plan’. Sure, it’s easy to thank the moments in your life that were shimmering with positivity and made you feel good. But can you honor those moments that were not so pretty? For me, that is where the real yoga comes in—to honor it all: the good, the bad, the ugly. Because it really does all happen for a reason. I know, you have heard it before and you almost threw up in your mouth a little bit, but it is true. We may not see the reason in that moment, but it is happening to learn more about yourself and how you relate to the world. As you take time to show and express gratitude, thank your struggles as much as your high points, the valleys, and the peaks.

HEART & GRATITUDE PRACTICE

Thankfulness stems from the place of the heart. The heart space is extended through the shoulders, arms, and hands. How we use our hands can express appreciation and acceptance. When we come to the physical practice of yoga, asana, we use our hands a lot: on the ground and on our own bodies. There are certain poses and sequences that will jumpstart your grateful heart.

Mudras are yoga poses with the hands. They can be practiced at any time of day and pretty much everywhere. A simple but powerful one is the anjali mudra, the gesture of prayer. Let both hands come together right in front of the chest and breathe. If you are feeling scattered or little whiny, sit down and bring your hands together.

The backbending portion of asana classes can be scary for some. Regardless of the physical fear, backbending goes directly into the emotional center of the body: the heart. In this place we hold feelings of love, compassion, and forgiveness. Some of my teachers call these poses ‘heart openers’ because you are literally opening your chest to get into poses like locust, bow, camel, bridge, and full wheel. When I teach these poses, some students shed a few tears. The physical release allows for the emotional body to let go.

It took me a while to trust myself to get into upward bow, urdvha dhanurasana. Allowing my hands and feet to support me so I could open my front body up to the sky as my head released with gravity. I am still a little hesitant to do upward bows in class, but once I do, I am glad I did it. My resistance at times comes from not wanting feel and these backbends blow all of that out of the water. The image of Superman comes to mind with these poses. Ripping off the the Clark exterior right at the chest to expose your true self, Superman/Superwoman!

Flipping your perspective can also generate gratefulness not only in your practice but in your life off the mat as well. Going upside down shakes out any heaviness or negativity that is weighing down your heart. It reminds us to put ourselves in other people’s shoes. Flip the situation. Inversions include headstand, forearmstand, and handstand with many variations. But downward facing dog is also an inversion as is a standing forward bend. Again, these poses may bring up fear, but embracing these poses can shine a light on how gratitude can change your perspective.

Forward bends allow a time for reflection. It is in the reflection that we can cultivate the thank you’s. When the front body is surrendering to the legs, the back body is being called to open. We carry our past in the back body. By going inwards and investigating what we still carry with us, gratitude can help us let it go. “Thank you for that lesson, now I can move on.” Some helpful forward-bending poses include child’s pose, forward-bending pigeon, seated butterfly, seated star, head-to-one knee, and seated forward-bend with two legs (paschimottanasana).

The word namaste is becoming more mainstream these days. Its translation, “the light in me bows down to the light in you,” is a refreshing reminder to appreciate the people in front of you and the moment: Gratitude for this yoga practice, for this vessel, and ability to practice. We do not need anything extra to achieve balance and peace. Experiment with focusing on gratefulness in your next seated meditation. We have all the tools within us and by taking time to honor the abundance in our lives, we are reminded that we have enough, santosha.

OFF THE MAT

One of the highest forms of gratitude is through giving back. Through the action of seva, selfless service, we help our fellow man and woman. Check out your local volunteer options and see where you can lend a helping hand. Volunteering connects us to everything, and the holiday season offers many opportunities to donate your time. Check out newyorkcares.com—they have many opportunities to give back in all five boroughs. Instead of giving physical gifts to your family and friends, consider donating in their name to a foundation/organization that could use your support.

Create a gratitude list and thank your blessings and obstacles by writing them down. Take a moment to thank your food away from the computer and TV. Have a gratitude list running that sits right next to your bed. Write three things that happened within the day that you are grateful for. A simple one here: kindness is also a form of appreciation. Give in kindness.

HOLIDAZE

The holiday season is a special time because it happens around the same time every year and can be a great way to check in with ourselves. One of these check-ins can be structured by gratitude. What has transpired in the past year that you are thankful for? Hard times can receive some gratitude too. It is through the lows and struggles that we value what is really important and the lesson we can receive from these turning points will be with you forever. The awareness of learning from a particular experience can impart wisdom. Wisdom is a defining element of enlightenment. If you are having a hard time being thankful, because it does happen, ask for help. Call a friend or family member and re-inspire yourself with the people in your lives.

THANK YOU!

Bound To Tradition

October 13, 2014 By admin Filed Under: Dispatches From Babyville

Parenting in New York City is not for the faint of heart. Sure, there are conveniences that come with city parenting, and I ponder these frequently when I need a pick-me-up: Cheap takeout! Twenty-four-hour corner delis! Elevators in buildings! But the list of parenting tasks which are extra complicated or onerous or aggravating is long. Next year, for instance, I’ll have three kids in three different schools, making morning drop-off an epic expedition that would chill the blood of most suburbanites.

The upside of this is that city parents tend to develop grit. You don’t just give up when you encounter an obstacle, because if you did, you’d never leave your (tiny) apartment.

I’ve always been a tenacious kind of person, and parenting has only strengthened this personality trait. For the most part, the tenacity’s an asset. Occasionally, though, it’s a liability. Sometimes my single-minded, stubborn determination backfires on me. Such as was the case with our last apple-picking adventure.

My parents used to take my sisters and I apple-picking every year, and it’s something David and I have been doing even before we had kids. Every October, we drive an hour north to our preferred orchard, and every time, we come home with a big bag of apples which we then make into an apple pie. It’s a tradition. I’ve loved this tradition even before I read a bunch of very persuasive articles about the tremendous value of ritual in family life, which led me to believe that doing specific stuff as a family on a regular basis is the most important defense for my kids against a later ills including but not limited to drug and alcohol abuse, teenage pregnancy, truancy, imprisonment, depression, and general calamity. Consequently, my family now observes an annual Fourth of July Rocket Launch, a Day-Before-School-Starts Retro-Movie Night, Charades Fridays, and Sloppy Joe Mondays, to name a few. But apple picking is one of our oldest traditions, one we unanimously enjoy.

My son, affectionately known in these parts as Primo, age nine, is Quality Control. He has never and will never eat an apple, or any other kind of fruit, but that doesn’t stop him from demanding excellence insofar as the harvest is concerned. He has a keen eye, spots the best apples, and makes sure they land, un-bruised and impeccable, in the bag.

My daughter Seconda, age seven, is the Taster. She eats enough apples while picking to justify the high price of the bag we leave with.

My baby, Terza, age two, is the Poster Girl. Her job is to be picturesque and adorable and she executes this with aplomb.
Last year, we had an extra busy October and couldn’t get to the orchard until the end of the month. When the appointed Saturday came, Terza developed a double ear infection with accompanying fever. A course of antibiotics was started and by the next morning, the fever was gone.

“So,” I said to David early that Sunday, “Do you think we should try to go apple picking today?”

“Well, her fever’s gone,” he observed.

“And it’s only an ear infection.”

“And she’s running around playing.”

“She’ll have fun.”

“She’ll sleep in the car.”

“We’ll bring Tylenol.”

Like me, David is indomitable. He is the guy who chisels the tunnel out of prison. There is no stopping him.

“Who wants to go apple picking?” we asked the kids.

“Me!” they cried in rare, wonderful unison. Thus, it was resolved: to the orchard!

But as soon as we strapped Terza into her car seat, the day took a turn for the worse. By which I mean, the screaming commenced.
It was difficult to trace the origin of the screaming, since she frequently bellows when strapped in her car seat. So we were confident she’d settle down. Besides, we couldn’t abort mission after all the effort it took to load the kids in the car.

Corralling three children into a car for a day-long excursion takes roughly the planning and energy required for a space shuttle launch. The packing of the diaper bag with snacks, wipes, toys. The making sure everyone goes to the bathroom. The finding of the shoes. The breaking-up of sibling fights when shoes can not be found and foul play is suspected. The impossible latching of seat belts buried deep under the over-crowded boosters in the backseat. The going back in the apartment to retrieve forgotten items. Once you do all this, there is no turning back. Certainly not for a little crying which frankly, just comes with toddler territory.

But on this particular day, it wasn’t just a little crying we ended up facing. It was a record-breaking amount of crying. Terza screamed ceaselessly until her wails made nails on a chalkboard seem like wind chimes. We offered her lollipops and snacks and pacifiers and iPhones and these things would cause her screaming to downshift to a vehement whine but the sound just never stopped.

After a half hour of toddler yelling, my brain felt positively addled and I yelled: “ICE CREAM! SHE NEEDS ICE CREAM!” to David.

“WHERE?”

“JUST PULL OVER AS SOON AS YOU SEE ANYPLACE REMOTELY RELATED TO ICE CREAM!”

It was a stroke of luck that had us passing by a Dairy Queen several minutes later. We all poured out of the car, yelling “ICE CREAM ICE CREAM” in desperate conciliatory tones at the baby who could not hear us through the massive wall of sound emanating from her mouth.

The sound mercifully ceased as soon as we shoved an ice cream cone in her hand. While she was distracted, we strapped her back in her car seat, cone dripping vanilla blobs onto her lap. Yes, she’d be covered in a sticky coat of ice cream, but it was a small price to pay for silence.

I buckled my seat belt and asked David if we should consider turning around.

“We’re more than halfway there,” he said. “And if we turn around, she’ll still have to be in the car for another forty minutes.”

“Plus, I’m sure the orchard will cheer her up.” I concurred.

“And she’s quiet now,“ he concluded.

I believe the term is “mutually enabling.”

The ice cream bought us another five minutes of peace, which left only twenty minutes of screaming before we reached our destination. The change in scenery of the orchard earned us another five minutes of silence before that novelty wore off and the whimpering began again. It started soft but I knew it was only a matter of time before the crying would escalate.

“Quick!” I told the kids, “Grab apples!”

“But these look all bruised,” Primo protested.

“No, no! All good!” The scream treatment had forced me to communicate telegram-style, in short phrases that would fit into the three-second pause in between wails, when Terza paused to breathe.

“But I haven’t even tasted this tree yet,” Seconda complained.

“It’s great!” I chirped, trying not to sound frantic. I plucked apples off the dwarf trees with such a velocity that several of them flew out of my hand in the process.

Within ten minutes, our bag was full.

“Yay!” I cheered, “We did it!”

“But we only have Red Delicious!” Primo objected, “Aren’t we going to get Granny Smiths? And Fujis?”

The baby had thrown herself on the ground, which was essentially a blanket of rotting, worm-ridden apples, and was kicking her feet and thrashing back and forth, yelling, “I NO LIKE IT!”

“No time,” I barked.

There is always time for a commemorative photo, however.

“Smile!” I shouted. As if that was possible.

In the photo, David is grimacing with the effort of trying to keep hold of the baby who is flailing around in fury. The kids are standing on either side of him, Seconda’s eyebrows are furrowed and her mouth is open, as she makes an annoyed remark about how the baby ruins everything. Primo is holding the enormous bag of hopelessly imperfect apples, looking aggrieved.

The photo won’t ever be framed and displayed proudly on our mantle. It won’t be posted on Facebook. But I’ll put it in our album, hoping it serves as proof later on that David and I were good parents, or at least that we were crappy parents only accidentally while trying really hard to be good. If nothing else, it will document that we provided the kids with tradition. Ample, occasionally harrowing, tradition.

Nicole C. Kear is author of the new memoir Now I See You (St. Martin’s Press); you can find out more info at www.nicolekear.com.