Beautiful, one-of-a-kind spaces rarely serve good food, for the simple reason that they don’t have to. But in bringing in former Savoy and Porcupine chef Matt Weingarten, the new owners of Café St. Bart’s have put in more effort than anyone had a right to expect. The place is already doing boffo business with its lunch menu, which consists of typically simple but potent Weingarten dishes like linguine and clams with pancetta lardons, summer savory, and wild ramps; pan-braised hake in a spring herb nage; and his signature grilled-lamb-and-prune-hyssop-butter sandwich.
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Bedford-Stuyvesant: You can only wonder what owners of sober-faced neighboring brownstones think of this Santa Claus acid trip on Pulaski. [Bed-Stuy Blog]
Dumbo: Now open for viewing, the meticulously restored antique carousel of Jane Walentas, wife of area hero-villain developer Dave. [DumboNYC]
Greenpoint: Every neighborhood should have its own billy goat. [Gowanus Lounge]
Park Slope: Visitors want to ensure that any new plan for a green redo of Prospect Park's Wollman Rink has plenty of parking. [Streetsblog]
Upper East Side: Attention scavengers: Make an appointment to troll through an uptown mansion next week for some pre-gutting cash-and-carry. [Brownstoner]
Williamsburg: In the bocce off-season, take up ping-pong. [Brooklyn Record]
The fourth season of Project Runway starts taping next month, and Tim Gunn warmed up last night with Project Ruffway, a dog fashion show he hosted in a Chelsea gallery space. A benefit for Stray From the Heart, which rescues stray dogs around the globe, the show featured designer fashions for dogs and their walkers. A dog fashion show, it turns out, is a lot like a people fashion show. Looks were shown in the categories of eveningwear, weekend, resort, and "ruff and tumble" ("whatever that means," Gunn unhelpfully explained), and many models, all adoptable or recently adopted, came from South America. Clothes were by top designers like Nicole Miller and Juicy Couture; Champagne was the drink of choice, though many well-heeled attendees sipped "Hair of the Dog" cocktails made with blood-orange juice, Champagne, and vodka; and the theme was taken seriously: hors d'oeuvre included little bone-shaped sandwiches of roast beef and grilled cheese and French fries in tiny bone-patterned paper cones.
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It was a great plan. Two-thirds of each Academy graduating class would be dispatched by the NYPD to crime hot spots throughout the city, giving the rookies a trial by fire without draining manpower from better-controlled areas. It was called Operation Impact, and it was a centerpiece of a strategy that has pushed crime down 30 percent in New York's worst neighborhoods. And now it's not going to happen anymore, because the city pays its rookie police officers $25,100 a year, and there are simply not enough suckers. The next Academy class, budgeted for 2,800 people, will be lucky to have 800 enroll. Yesterday, Police Commissioner Ray Kelly drew this grim picture before the City Council before suggesting that the city negotiate with the police union separately (as opposed to lumping the cops with the rest of municipal workers). However, the Daily News reports, the mayor's not sold on the idea. So it seems the only hope now is for joining the force to become a new vogue among New York's rich. Condé Nast manages to fill all its editorial-assistant slots with similar wages, after all.
It's a Crime! [NYDN]
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