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Greenpoint Fashion Watch: A Moment of Greenpoint Gratitude
Chile relleno preparation (as practiced by yours truly, anyway) is a rather extensive process*. When I reach the “halfway” point I take a break. This time around was no exception: to this end I took a walk. As I was strolling our fair ‘nabe’s streets I thought about the numerous things I have to be grateful for: having good friends, wonderful neighbors, a husband who tolerates my admittedly eccentric behavior and manifold obsessions; a roof over my head, a relatively well-behaved (and occasionally downright loving) pride of felines and a job whose nature I not only enjoy, but comes with co-workers who render those not-so-pleasurable moments into fun ones.
Above all I am grateful to live in the best damned place on earth: Greenpoint, Brooklyn U.S.A. The Garden Spot of the Universe is home to such Heatherian favorites as the Shit Tits, the Newtown Creek Nature Walk, McGuinness Boulevard, West Street (what’s left of it, anyway), 218 Beadel Street (the house and person who lives in it— both are wonderful) and the old Russian Peoples Home sign on Clay Street (to name a very few). It is also home to some of the most charming, witty, intelligent and kindhearted people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I consider it an honor to call these people, my fellow Greenpointers, neighbors.
And, but hardly least, there is this gentleman who I spied in front of La Taverna today. There is so much fashion fabulousness going on here I am not even going to attempt deconstructing it. What’s more, I need to get back to cooking!
More later.
Miss Heather
*Which I will go into later. It ain’t going to be Julia Child, but hopefully you’ll enjoy the secrets to my relleno success.
Happy Thanksgiving From New York Shitty!
Thanksgiving is already proving to be a one for yours truly. There will be not Macy’s parade watching for me; I’m too busy preparing a feast of chile rellenos, beans, rice, and salsa! For this reason today’s offerings will be decidedly lite. However, I have enough time to resurrect an oldie but goody from Greenpoint’s yesteryear for your turkey day enjoyment: Ragamuffin Day.
What was Ragamuffin Day, you ask? This is an excellent question. Imagine if you will trick or treating— but on Thanksgiving Day. On this day children throughout our fair city (Greenpoint in particular) smeared their faces with charcoal, put on the tattiest apparel and went door to door asking:
Anything f’ Thanksgiv’n?
If the man or woman of the house felt charitable he or she would throw them candy, fruit or change for their efforts. And just like the “trick or treating†we know today there was ample latitude on both sides— beggars and beggees alike —for mischief. Do you know what a “red penny†is? You will after reading this article from the November 27, 1931 edition of the New York Times. Enjoy!
Those of you who want to learn more about Ragamuffin Day from a distinctly Greenpointian (and firsthand!) point of view should point and click your way to Greenpt.com. There you will find a number of amusing firsthand accounts of this long gone tradition. Check it out!
Miss Heather
P.S.: This post goes out to my fellow Greenpointer Mieszko. Enjoy your vacation— and don’t forget your sunblock!
New York Shitty Day Ender: Infinity
From the Church Avenue-bound platform of the Crosstown Local at Metropolitan Avenue.
Miss Heather
From The New York Shitty Inbox: Much Ado About Ichiran
I have received a number of emails in the last 24 hours regarding this much-anticipated and long-awaited noodle shop slated to grace 1015 Manhattan Avenue. Here’s one such example. Christo writes:
Hi Heather
Remember when the noodle shop (ICHIRAN) next to Triangolos had the “registration” box hanging off the front of the building? Well I put my info on the box about 6 months ago, and this is the first contact I received back.
Thought you might be interested.
Eater beat me to the punch announcing this (you can get their take on this infamous email by clicking here). Regardless, here’s what I saw while walking by this afternoon.
Signs of actual activity! Not only is the gate open (so presumably someone is working in there) but they have taped up a smallish sign in the window reading “Ichiran” and no less than two announcements about their web site registration!
Could Ichiran at long last be readying itself to open? I can only hope so. I suspect I speak for many of my fellow Greenpointers when I write that on a dreary day like this I could really use a hot bowl of ramen soup!
Miss Heather
Williamsburg Photo Du Jour: Never Say Never
This missive (which hails from Broadway just shy of Gerry Street) reminds me of a former roommate of mine. One day, after tiring of looking at his besmirched manties (which had been gracing the bathroom floor for no less than two days) I took action. I put on a pair of latex gloves, deftly placed the offending item in a Ziploc bag (with the “business” showing) and taped this parcel at eye level onto the refrigerator. The next day they were gone. Nothing was ever said, but he never did it again. Billy— wherever you are— this one’s for you.
Miss Heather
Meet The Jello Mold Mistress of (North) Brooklyn
Thanksgiving Day will soon enough be upon us and with it comes food. Lots of it. To this end I spent yesterday hunting and gathering foodstuffs so as to make Chez Shitty’s traditional Thanksgiving fare: chile rellenos, rice, beans and salsa. Dessert, this year as in years past, is an afterthought. It gets lost in the shuffle. (No doubt I’ll be fighting over pies at Jubilatka today. So it goes.)
Which brings me to the purpose of this post: dessert and things getting lost in the shuffle. Yesterday I featured some UBER-cute commuter furkid porn from a woman named Victoria.
But masterminding photo shoots of a very comely hamster named Edie is but only one her talents. Victoria is also the Jello Mistress of (north) Brooklyn. The title (be it self-appointed or otherwise) is well deserved.
Behold, Swedish Fish jello!
Freedom jello.
For the more exotically (and intoxicantly inclined ) I present Mojito jello, made with (what else): lime jello, mint and rum!
And last but hardly least, Greenpoint jello. The above is described by its creator as follows:
Pineapple Jello died green to celebrate Greenpoint, Brooklyn.
First it was the donut ice cream sandwich. Now it is designer gelatin products. What will my fellow Greenpointers think of next? While you mull this question over, dear readers, I present for your edification a slide show of our very own Jello Mold Mistress’s creations. Enjoy!
You can read more about Brooklyn’s very own Jello Goddess by clicking here.
Miss Heather
P.S.: Methinks the Mistress’s next opus should be shit tit jello.
Gelatin boobs in an azure hue.
If anyone can do it, it is you Victoria. This isn’t simply about foodstuffs; it is a matter of Greenpoint pride. Make it happen. If you build it they will come… TO EAT!
Photo Credits: the Jello Mold Mistress of Brooklyn, Tony Liub and Mister Heather
NYS Flickr Pool
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