Vanishing New York Backup

Your own private driveway. Your own private bowling alley. Your own private movie theater. Your own private spa. Your own private lookout. These promises of privacy are repeated on banners that circle Extell's One Manhattan Square on the Lower East Side, the latest luxury monstrosity to vandalize our skyline and bully its way into our low-rise neighborhoods. (There will also be a private golf simulator, a private pet spa, a private fitness complex, a private squash and basketball court, and an entire acre of private gardens.) With so much private space, why venture out of the complex at all? Why engage with city life? The insistence on privacy and the turning away from the street exemplify the suburban mentality come to the city in the 2000s. One resident of a luxury building loaded with suburban amenities told The Observer in 2008, “Everything's always convenient, always safe, always clean. You don't have to worry about gross things. Like mice! And creepy things ...

In the Times today, an article celebrating the gentrification of Canal Street is getting strong reactions. This type of article is a long-time staple for the paper. For years, they've sent writers into "up and coming" neighborhoods to highlight the new shops and eateries. As a record of the changing city, these articles are invaluable--I relied on them when I wrote my book, Vanishing New York . But they also help to hype the changes. And in all of them, someone makes a statement about how the old neighborhood was dead and the new one is alive, how "no one" was there before and now it's full of "people." In today's piece, the owner of an upscale new jewelry shop says, “I think people were afraid of Canal Street for so long, and now they’re recognizing there are just so many advantages to the area. I think we’re just beginning to see the neighborhood come alive ." In the hyper-gentrifying city, where City Hall works with develope...

(From an old post I never posted.) C&L Sunrise Grocery was a little newsstand on Hester Street at Bowery. Its facade is remarkable thanks to the old, hand-painted sign that hangs above its awning, announcing: "Chung's Candy & Soda Stand," with 7-Up and Coca-Cola logos, also painted by hand. The place sold candy and newspapers, lottery tickets and umbrellas. The usual stuff. Awhile ago, I went by to find a "Space for Lease" sign on its rolled-down shutter. (Maybe by now it's reopened as a new newsstand?) Meanwhile, at another corner of Chinatown, where Lower East Side-style gentrification is seeping in, another newsstand vanished. before At Rutgers and East Broadway, against community objections last year , Jajaja Plantas Mexicana moved in to what had been the Golden Carriage Bakery and a little newsstand with a metal awning. The popular restaurant serves vegan Mexican food. They left the newsstand signage, but it looks kind of sad, han...

VANISHED Reader Ted Rao writes in: "The amazing Wong Kee , located on Mott Street between Canal and Grand, succumbed to a new landlord and rising rents. Its last day was 1/21/18." photo via Yelp According to this video from SinoVision , Wong Kee was in Chinatown for nearly 30 years. The lease ended and apparently was not renewed by the landlord. According to SinoVision, "The landlord plans to take the property back and construct a pharmacy in its place." There are already several pharmacies nearby.

VANISHED After close to four decades, Argo Electronics on Canal Street has closed. Tribeca Citizen shared the news today, writing, "I’d have to wager that the building—and the one(s) to the west—aren’t long for this world." photos from 2015 Argo was a beautiful little remnant of old Canal, its wares organized in cardboard boxes spilling out to the sidewalk, a cacophony of useful junk and stuff. Power cords. Extension cords. Remote controls. Rolls of duct tape. Rolls of masking tape. Motherboards. Keyboards. Key chains. Coffee pots. Flip flops. Watch bands. I never got the chance to go inside, but I always liked the look of the place and photographed it each time I went by, mostly because it had that look. You know the look. The one that says: I won't last much longer in this new New York. For videos of the inside, visit Tribeca Citizen .

This summer we saw the tragic end of the Cup & Saucer , thanks to a non-negotiable rent hike. It didn't take long for the beautiful old signage to get stripped. And replaced by a bunch of shitty For Rent banners.

The Cup & Saucer luncheonette on Canal and Eldridge closed this past week due to the landlord nearly doubling the rent. After the shutters came down one last time, neighbors and friends hung posterboard and pens to gather goodbye and thank you notes. click to enlarge and read Among the heartfelt goodbyes and good-lucks, they ask to "Save Chinatown" and "Support the SBJSA," the Small Business Jobs Survival Act, the bill that could have stopped the closure of the Cup & Saucer, as well as many, many others. It wasn't lack of love that killed the Cup & Saucer. As I went to leave, a man in construction vest and hardhat walked up and stared at the notes. It's a familiar scene, the devoted regular who hasn't heard that his or her favorite place has shuttered, the New Yorker who shows up to find it gone. They always have the same look of confusion and loss. "Did you eat breakfast here?" I asked the man. "I used to eat...

Today is the last day of the Cup & Saucer. Last week, the Lo-Down announced the closure. Today the classic diner got its goodbye feature in the Times . They describe a neighborhood in the midst of being wiped out: "The family jewelry and wholesale shops that once dominated the area are long gone, and more expensive restaurants and bars have moved in. This time, Mr. Vasilopoulos and Mr. Tragaras said, the rent increase was too steep for Cup & Saucer. Mr. Vasilopoulos and Mr. Tragaras have owned the restaurant since 1988, but Cup & Saucer has occupied the space since the early 1940s, Mr. Vasilopoulos said. In March, they learned their $8,200 a month lease would increase by $7,600 per month. Attempts to negotiate with the landlord, 99 Canal Realty, failed , they said." If the City Council had passed the Small Business Jobs Survival Act , the Cup & Saucer might not be closing today. It could have been saved. If you're sick and tired of watching ...

VANISHING Fong Inn Too is the oldest family-run tofu shop in New York City and, quite possibly, in the United States. Founded on Mott Street in Chinatown in 1933, it closes forever tomorrow--Sunday, January 15. Paul Eng Third-generation co-owner Paul Eng showed me around the place. Upstairs, a massive noodle-making machine churns out white sheets of rice noodle, sometimes speckled with shrimp and scallion. Downstairs, a kitchen runs several hours a day with steaming woks and vats of tofu and rice cake batter, including a fragrantly fermenting heirloom blend of living legacy stock that dates back decades. Eng's family came to New York from Guangzhou in the Guangdong province of China (by way of Cuba), like many of Chinatown's earliest immigrants. His grandfather, Geu Yee Eng, started the business, catering mainly to the neighborhood's restaurants. His father, Wun Hong, and later his mother, Kim Young, took over after World War II and kept it going, branching out fro...

In June, I reported on the eviction of Reverend Jen and her Troll Museum . Now she will be resurrecting the museum, for only a short time, in a community art space called Chinatown Soup . photo by Mr. E She writes on the Facebook invite : "For years the LES Troll Museum made many people happy, made them feel like, maybe, the LES hadn't turned into a real-estate shitshow bedroom community for the rich." The event will run for one week, opening tonight, August 16 at 7:00pm, at 16 Orchard Street. "Expect a killer opening, weird performances, drawings, paintings, plays, a troll hair-dressing station, a troll-coloring book station, shit that's for sale, a 'Troll Parade' and informative monologues about the importance of Troll Commerce."

As you know, the beloved Pearl River Mart closed when its rent was hiked from $100,000 to a reported $500,000 per month. Here's what remains. #SaveNYC .

VANISHED As I reported last week, the restaurant 69 Bayard closed in Chinatown this weekend. I went in for a final meal--and also a first. The line went down the block and around the corner. Most of the patrons were young Chinese people, long-time regulars, and a few older folks. According to NPR , 69 Bayard had been here for 80 years . They closed because the landlord hiked the rent , denying them a new lease. It's the story we've heard now a hundred thousand times. Inside the busy restaurant, I shared a table with a Chinese family. The mom told me how she used to pick up her son from school and bring him in every day for a good, affordable meal. "Lots of memories," she said. We talked about Chinatown and changes. "Everything in Chinatown," she said, "is going up. Everything's more expensive." I ate my chicken wings while regulars came in and out, hugging the waiters, taking pictures, saying goodbye. On the wall near my ...

 VANISHING 69 Bayard is the little restaurant in Chinatown where the walls are covered with dollar bills. photo: Winston Wanders It's been there a long time--I don't know how long and the man who answered the phone was too harried to answer that question when I called, but he did tell me that this Saturday will be 69's last day in business. I also don't know the reason for the closure. The restaurant is known and loved for being a late-night nosh. It will be missed by many. photo: Larry C. on Yelp

This past spring, Crain's reported that Pearl River Mart, the excellent Asian emporium, would be forced to close at the end of the year due to an insane rent hike. Now reader Andrea R. writes in with a final (ish) date. A friend who works in the store told her: " the closing date is around February 10 ." Pearl River first opened in Chinatown in 1971. It has since moved twice, but this may be the end of it, due to sky-high rents all over the city. As Crain's reported, " Pearl River currently pays more than $100,000 a month for its shop, and rent would rise more than five times when the lease expires ." That's over $500,000 per month. And this is why we need to #SaveNYC .