ELVIS GUESTHOUSE, WHERE THE DRINKS GLOWED BLUE
wherein I use the Solstice as an excuse to remember places that are no more
Today is the Summer Solstice. The direct declination of Solstice is when The Sun Stands Still. Astrologically and vibe-wise, the Solstice is supposed to be intensely illuminating. Not necessarily in uncovering what’s unseen, but more on shining light longer on what already presents. There’s a relationship to time that’s a little mis-aligned in profound subtlety. Think: the feeling before a sunburn. Drinking before you’re thirsty. When fingers get raisin-y. A longgggg party.
Having spent a fair amount of time in a secluded and Back-to-the-Landy-y part of the Pacific Northwest, I am also aware of the more spiritual approach to the solstice. I heard tell once of a solstice ritual that lasted days, wherein generations partied together and, interspersed, teenagers came of age by taking a solo paddle on the water. Sounded great, actually. There’s also the pagan celebration of Litha, which is the celebration of nature and abundance. This is the type of thing that Midsommar is based off of, which is obviously not the vibe that we really are wanting for ourselves.
I’ve written in the past about summer’s inherent nostalgia. I imagine summers conversing directly with one another. Last June is surprised at what this audacious new one has brought forth. The beach, thank god, stays the same.
“A single sunbeam is enough to drive away many shadows,” said St. Francis of Assisi. But whether we like it or not (I’m fine with it), there remains a slanted refraction of my body on the pavement. The brighter the sun, the more vivid.
Recently (kind of), the NYTimes came out with their list of 100 best restaurants in NYC. (Trust me, I am going somewhere with this.) I love a lot of those restaurants, don’t know a fair amount, and actually don’t have much to say about the list itself. More, on a day that is about THE MOST LIGHT EVER do I want to direct a little of it to what has passed. That is: I am more interested, today, in places that don’t exist anymore.
I like talking about restaurants in New York City that are no more. Maybe because I wonder at the passing of time, wonder at my age and the way that the world shifts visually in a marked and mundane way. Maybe it’s because once I myself tried to open a restaurant, have helped people open others, and marvel at the cosmic nature of what businesses breathe and which ones don’t. Maybe because I consume countless images daily of rubble and destruction, of complete ruin and force myself to imagine ‘what would I feel like? What must that feel like?” I don’t know, and that’s the blessing of getting to wonder at the material.
I am a lucky girl! To get to! Write about aesthetic value of cultural particularities! On the internet!!!
Anyway, as the light is bright today. Here are places I miss! I don’t want to forget them. Maybe you’ll remember some, too.
Places I miss.
Franny’s on Flatbush was delicious, simply, airy pizza. Great salads. Simple. Then, it was Rose’s — where grown-ups would sit at the counter and watch television and everyone would eat burgers. One of the best parts was the backyard, like the backyard of a brownstone, built on gravel and glittering. You could always see someone’s laundry hanging out a window, waving.
Sammy’s Noodle Bar on 6th ave was IMPORTANT. The food wasn’t incredible but it was somewhere that old West Village boho elders would come to read the paper and eat dumplings. Ducks hung in the window at the entrance and the space felt expansive, taking up like 1/3 of the block. Now, it’s been converted into a kind-of Italian place where people sit on their computers and everyone is always confused about where to order and how to get their ticket.
Saints Alp Tea House. Not Saint Alps. Saints Alp. On like 12th and 3rd. This is where I would go after school and get a taro bubble tea and yakitori chicken or the most fabulous peanut butter snack on milk toast and do my homework while my mom took phone calls. It was dark and a little bit out of the way, so I felt tucked into this cavernous space without running into kids from school all the time (love you guys!).
Noho Star was glamorous and bustling, one of the George Schwarz restaurants (which always hold a quality of brassy elegance). I was lucky enough to be there on their last night, New Year’s Eve of 2017. Gold Balloons everywhere.
The Village Natural. On Greenwich Ave, hidden away below Greenwich Treehouse. This was a ‘health foods restaurant’ that was kinda macrobiotic (if the Souen girls could only see this space today! omg). The emphasis on well-being was kind of ironic due to the vague smell of cleaning supplies that always seemed to linger on the wooden booths, but the entire space felt tucked away and private. On high school weekends (perhaps after a night enjoying Mikes Hard’s or Angry Orchard) I would locate great joy in the pumpkin walnut pancakes, MorningStar Sausages, and blueberry compote.
InSpaWorld is what SpaCastle used to be. It was more colorful, less expensive. It actually was pretty weird in there. But still!
Elvis Guesthouse was the first ‘club’-ish place that I went to. In Alphabet City, on Avenue A, you would walk down these little stairs and into a colorful, tiled Indie Sleaze little universe. They were ahead of their time with social media awareness and you could take a picture in front of their flowered wall. Huge deal. The lights always changed color, and the gin + tonics glowed turquoise.
Mariella Pizza was across from where I went to school K-12. You would go after school for a slice and maybe a soda. Everything cost less than $6. I remember it being soooo good but honestly it might not have been. It’s where everyone went on dates in middle school, which in retrospect is terribly cute.
Go Fetch was the pre-Fresh Direct delivery service. This doesn’t count for much, but I just feel like it has to be mentioned because I can’t find record of it anywhere. But I remember the wonder that I felt seeing a box full of things especially for US, absolutely just DELIVERED, by a STRANGER! In my mind, it was canine-owned-and-operated.
Also! Joe Jrs that was on 6th ave, the Panda Express at Grand Central (sorry), SushiSamba, China Chalet, (most) Tasti D-Lites, La Grenouille, Kinfolk, Plump Dumpling, Mars 2112, the EJ’s Diner by Astor Place, & Jekyll and Hyde.
Weirdly felt good to get that out of my system. Thank you for indulging me!! Very comforting to think it is officially ‘the first day of summer’. Today, I’m going to try not to get a sunburn. Let me know if there are places you remember today, and what they were like <3