May 26, 2003: Vol. 26, No. 21
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A great restaurant, and a thimble of ice cream
The Brooklyn Paper
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del.icio.usI think it was Joel Wolfe, who ran Restaurant Lisanne on Atlantic Avenue in the late 1970s and ’80s, who said he preferred a real review. Don’t tell me you’re coming, just come, eat, pay and write.
Lisanne, probably the best of the restaurants that were part of the early Brownstone Renaissance, was critically acclaimed, and it was a sad day when Joel closed his business. The locals loved it, but this was a long time before Smith Street’s trendy chefs were able to capture the attention of the “City” and draw Manhattan hordes to their critical mass. Wolfe was pretty much alone, although others came, and mostly soon left, in spurts.
• • •
One of our early restaurant critics had come highly recommended, and his copy sounded informed and balanced. One day, my editor, Beverly Cheuvront, showed me a review he’d submitted about a restaurant that was not assigned and was, in fact, outside the geographic area we were covering. The review was so scathing that when the day’s work was done, much of the staff piled into The Paper’s van and rode out to this place, now long gone, on Avenue M in Midwood. We did not believe any restaurant could be as bad as he described.
It was enormous, it was packed. We had a long wait for a table.
Everyone was happy — it was a loud, boisterous neighborhood joint. The food was probably ok, but certainly secondary to the place.
When it was time for dessert, Beverly whipped out the review and showed it to our waitress. The critic said the restaurant served frozen fish; for dessert, he had ice cream — a “thimble” full of ice cream.
The waitress, livid, escorted us into the kitchen. “Find the frozen fish!” she demanded. We didn’t.
As for the ice cream, while not conceding the “thimble” description, she supposed the critic had come for the luncheon special.
The meal, after all, was not assigned and so was on his dime.
• • •
Restaurant reviews have always been one of our most popular features, with immediate impact.
The weekend of a review’s appearance in The Paper often finds diners cribbing their copy to select the recommended — or colorfully mentioned — dishes.
Readers absorb the spirit of a restaurant, its atmosphere and food range. Enticed, they’ll give it a shot and are their own best judges.
A restaurant critic who cannot discern the difference between frozen and fresh should not attempt to do so. We never published the Avenue M review.
40th reunion
Last Sunday, I stepped back in time — time before The Brooklyn Paper. After 25 years of Papers, it’s easy to forget the time before.
The 40th reunion of my elementary school class from the Yeshivah of Flatbush, which drew classmates from as far as North Carolina and Maine, was an opportunity to compare notes, and put a few things in perspective.
One classmate said he’d come for “closure.” I went more for an opening, to look at a live page from the past and consider the paths I’ve taken and where they began.
After Flatbush, most of us went on to public schools and secular universities; Midwood High was my next stop.
Except in a novelist’s fantasy, childhood is not necessarily life’s easiest patch. But we owe those who helped us through it a debt which it’s not always possible to adequately repay.
©2003 The Brooklyn Paper
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