Memories of Eating Park Slope

Strolling the streets of Park Slope, I never cease to be surprised by the number of new eateries that are opening up every day – in every corner of the neighborhood, from Eighth Avenue to Third Avenue, from high-end to low-end. Dine in Brooklyn brought visitors to 54 restaurants this past month, and in April, events catering to local gourmands will include an at , a “meet the farmer” dinner at , and a Central American cooking class at Ger-Nis Culinary & Herb Center. It all makes me thrilled to be writing a food column for Park Slope Patch.

This hive of activity was unimaginable when I first moved to Park Slope in the early 1990s, after graduating from college in Manhattan. Then, the universe of dining options was limited, and nightlife was virtually nonexistent. Fifth Avenue was particularly sketchy, full of shuttered storefronts, and had just a few places of interest: the owner of Aunt Suzie’s, one of the few restaurants on the then-gritty boulevard, told me once in an interview for the weekly paper where I was a reporter, “We had a busboy whose job it was to keep the phone on the corner broken, so that the drug dealers could not use it as their office."

There were a couple of Italian specialty shops like Pollio, where the bocconcini were wonderful and the employees were men whose faces defined the word character. For special occasions, there was the first incarnation of Cucina, on the site of which one of the original partners, Michael Ayoub, opened Fornino last year. On and around Seventh were more quotidian standbys like and the recently-shuttered Lemongrass Grill, and diners like Purity and the now-defunct Grecian Corner (where a friend and I once took a homeless man to dinner).

There was of course the Park Slope Food Coop, which for me was the beating heart of the neighborhood – a neighborhood which at the time was largely crunchy, Birkenstock-wearing, progressive, and community-minded. The Coop, which focuses on fresh, seasonal fare as well as ethically and environmentally responsible food consumption, resonated with me. I hail from southern California, from a very liberal family, and my first culinary memories involve fresh tomato, artichokes, avocados – and shopping at the local supermarket, a little place called Trader Joe’s.

My own mom, despite being a self-proclaimed raw foodist and aficionado of fasting, didn't really practice what she preached, and so resorted to processed foods a lot of the time. While I can't deny developing a taste for Kraft macaroni and cheese and Ring Dings, I also loved the finer things in life: in middle school, I managed to get my hands on Craig Claiborne’s New York Times Cookbook and started whipping up dishes like steak au poivre and cherries Jubilee. I even bought a copper fish mold (which I never used, not yet).

That cookbook may have been what led me to New York in the first place. I still refer to it frequently (even if I'm just boiling an egg--I love to cook but need directions).

After several years in Park Slope, I moved back to Manhattan, wanting to be closer to the action (and having found a great deal on an apartment), but I kept Park Slope close to me: I subscribed to the homegrown Urban Organic service, which every week would deliver a box of in-season vegetables and fruits to my Chelsea doorstep, and I always looked forward to trying the recipes on the quaint flyers included in every box.

By the time I moved back to the Slope, at the start of the new millennium, everything had changed. For starters, the demographics: Park Slope was almost as if not more expensive than Manhattan, there were more strollers than ever, and the neighborhood had become a mecca for foodies. Fine restaurants like and were setting the bar for local, seasonal, organic, sustainable cooking, and similar spots like Applewood and Franny's were soon to follow. Fifth Avenue had been completely transformed into a dining destination. The opening of the vast, high-end American eatery by a pair of Manhattan restaurateurs, with prices topping out at $28.50, seemed to symbolize the corridor's transformation.

The neighborhood continues to evolve, with notable new restaurants like drawing crowds, as well as new provisions stores and coffee shops making appearances. Prices at Blue Ribbon now go up to a staggering $120 for Surf and Turf Royale, but there are plenty of affordable options for great food in the neighborhood too. While I lament the loss of old-timers like Pollio, Cucina, and A&S Pork Store, some members of the old guard, like Luigi’s pizza and homey Slovakian restaurant Milan's in South Slope, have held on. And of course, there is no shortage of Mexican restaurants and burger joints. 

Still, with a few exceptions, the restaurant scene’s vibrancy has not extended to north and central Seventh Avenue. That may be due, as some have theorized, to prohibitively high rents that allow only banks and cell phone stores to set up shop there, and it could also be that the street lacks the cool factor that nearby Fifth Avenue has acquired. Whatever the cause, the area has far too many middle-of-the road restaurants.

The coop (I am a member of good standing again – OK, I'm on Alert but will do a makeup this week) continues to be central to my Park Slope experience, though it seems to be a perennial target for critics. I love the diversity, the commitment to safe food and environmental stewardship, and of course the quality and the prices – it's become a model for coops throughout the world, and as part of my shifts, I've done everything from collecting anti-fracking signatures to making films about food-related topics.

The other trends that I hope will continue to thrive are farm-to-table restaurants, which continue to crop up (pun intended). I'm amazed that more restaurants don't disclose the provenance of their ingredients, and that demanding Park Slopers do not insist on it. The DIY movement also fascinates me – I love to hear about people making kombucha or kimchi in their kitchens, growing grapes in their backyards or herbs on their windowsills

And I am always in search of authenticity – finding the best regional cuisines available in the neighborhood. As someone who's sampled everything from Indian street food to haute Parisian, I feel up to that challenge.

I look forward to keeping you informed about the latest developments in Park Slope's dining and food scene.

And keep me posted too about your interests and news, at slopefoodie@gmail.com, or via Twitter at @slopefoodie.

Until next week, Wendy