Late last month I noticed a new awning going up on a long-vacant building at the corner of Broadway and Myrtle Avenue. The green, orange and white signage, borrowing heavily from FreshDirect’s logo, indicated this new business was a market selling fresh produce and organic items, among other things. My husband and I finally got a chance to head over and check things out on Sunday, and I must say Mr. Kiwi’s is probably the most exciting new business to open in our little corner of Bushwick in the three years we’ve been here.

The store is big and bright, and while it appears they are not yet fully stocked (lots of empty space in the coolers and a few empty shelves here and there), I was really impressed with what they did have available – a good selection of dry goods and pantry items, the ubiquitous selection of Goya products, dried chiles, herbs and spices, and, most importantly a very nice selection of fresh fruits and vegetables.

One of my biggest complaints about living here has been the lack of good produce in our immediate area, and from what I’ve seen, Mr. Kiwi’s goes a long way toward fixing that problem. They have a nice selection of the basics – loose and bagged (and non-moldering) onions and potatoes, citrus, bananas, stem tomatoes – but they surprised me with their selection of things I previously had to look elsewhere for: leeks, endive, beautiful blood oranges, fresh cranberry beans and watercress, to name just a few. They also had a variety of cut flowers available for purchase just inside the entrance.

Prices are comparable to what you’d find at most produce markets or Korean groceries in other parts of the city, and I’ve been very happy with the quality and freshness of produce purchased there. The awning indicates they have beer and cigarettes available, though we didn’t see either when we were there (a licensing issue, perhaps?), and they also indicate they have free delivery, though its location makes it an easy enough stop for those of us who commute along the J/M/Z lines. In any event, this is a very welcome addition to the area, and a business which will hopefully thrive.

Mr. Kiwi’s | 957 Broadway (at Myrtle Avenue) | 718-453-2640

Broadway, marking the border of Bed-Stuy and Bushwick, is home to several restaurants specializing in the cuisine of ethnic communities on both sides of the boulevard. One of them is Le Conakry, named for the peninsular capital city of Guinea, in West Africa. Guinea having been formerly ruled by the French, I expected more colonial influence, but was (pleasantly) surprised to have no other cuisine to compare it to — perhaps North African. Apparently, Guinean food is not well-regarded among West Africans — that’s probably the reason for the Senegalese menu items and couscous side.

I met Petra from the Bed-Stuy Blog at Myrtle and Broadway and we walked down together. At the counter, we asked for a few suggestions, but the demure, smiley lady, Fatou, couldn’t recommend anything in particular, and simply listed all the things they had.

We started off with the jollof rice, which is fried and nutty and even a bit sticky. It was well-spiced and satisfying, though the fish and yuca-like root vegetable served with it were both rather dry and hard. Not to mention full of bones.

Then we were served what I consider the star of the show: mafe, a Senegalese peanut sauce — served here with chicken, carrot, and potato simmered in — ladled over white rice. It was heavy and satisfying, though Petra said she didn’t think it was peanutty enough. The sweetened pineapple-ginger water (like an agua fresca) was perfect for cutting through the fat of the peanuts.

I ordered the grilled lamb with couscous — a mistake. It was lamb shoulder, overcooked, and completely gamy. The couscous was fine, but that’s hard to screw up. It was spiced up with some (presumably) Guinean pepper and tomato sauce served alongside.

Except for the mafe, the dishes could easily feed two people — at around $8 a plate, it’s a bargain.

Genius that I am, I forgot my camera at home, so all the photos were taken by Petra. Genius that SHE is, she didn’t take any photos of the food. At the very least you know what the place looks like.

Recommended: chicken mafe, jollof rice, pineapple-ginger water
Not recommended: fish, grilled lamb

Le Conakry | 1136 Broadway | 718-453-0747 | Vegetarian options

Check out Petra’s (significantly longer) review (also note the confusing difference in the names of what we ate… not sure how to explain that), and the Village Voice’s.

Say hi to Drew, she works at Goodbye Blue Monday and will be reporting from her neighborhood. — Jeremy

This remarkably-named church is right across the street on Broadway — thus technically Bed-Stuy territory. Sunday services can be heard all the way up and down Broadway, as the congregation spills out onto the street. Usually I wake up to the sounds of Spanish-language classic rock coming from the speakers coming out of a basement across the street, but Sundays are a special treat — complete with organs, drums, and a lot of holy-rollers. Services usually last well into the afternoon, and the rest of the day people walk up and down Broadway in their “Sunday best,” with the kids looking especially uncomfortable in white patent-leather shoes and hair in disarray from dancing all morning.

Word on the street is that there used to be a weed delivery service upstairs (unaffiliated with the church — allegedly!) but it’s no longer in business.

Goodbye Blue Monday is not going to be what you expect. If there weren’t a certain elegance to the rusty junk outside the storefront, you wouldn’t really be able to tell the difference between it and any of the other junky places on this depressing stretch of Broadway.

Inside is a mega-high-ceilinged shop — to the left, some computers and the bar; to the right, an absolute clusterfuck of mismatched tables and chairs. Not in a bad way, mind you. But the scene is jarring. The walls are encrusted with paintings and a bunch of seemingly random objects.

At GBM, the official line is that everything is for sale. I asked about the chairs and tables, and I could practically see employee Drew’s brain shoot off a Homerian “D’oh!” “That’s the house furniture,” owner Steve Trimboli said. “Anything but that is for sale.” If you have ideas that you’re going to swipe something amazing and rare at GBM for a song, think again: Steve knows how much his stuff is worth. Classic 50s lamps that “you’re not gonna get” elsewhere, will cost you a few bills. But there’s something here for every budget, if not every taste, and you could spend $5 or $700 for an item.

This place doesn’t just have a show every single night, the shows consist of four separate acts! And just in case you thought you could saunter in and book your band any night you fancy, they’re not hurting for talent — they’re booked solid two months in advance. Steve told me a story about a metal band and a jazz band who played on the same night: the metal violinists played with the jazz band and later on, the jazz members played with the metal band. His somewhat freeform booking system makes for a truly eclectic mix of music each night.

This place is so indie, the coffee comes from an old Bunn behind the counter — “oh, let me put a fresh pot on.” The small coffee is a buck. Don’t expect it to be better than 7-11, not that that’s why you would come here. Drew offered me an espresso soda she fished from the door of a fridge much like one your dad might have in his garage. They are planning a kitchen at some point in the future, but for now, enjoy a rice krispie treat or a brownie. Alcohol is also served, including PBR for the hipsters. Is your jappy cousin in town? Worry not, they have prosecco.

A recurring theme with business owners in Bushwick is complaints about municipal red tape. A stamp for this, a certificate for that, an inspection next month. Steve’s experience has been no different, but I did notice that the city’s meddling fingers are noticeably absent from the “sculpture garden” in the back yard: a menacing tangle of rusty metal just barely out of the way of drunken patrons. Depending on your philosophy of life it’s either a tetanusy nightmare or a bohemian dream.

Steve ran a somewhat similar place called Scrap Bar in the East Village of the 80s. He has personally subsidized the operations of GBM since 2005, and this year it’s finally paying off. “I am breaking even for the first time in two years — the neighborhood is beginning to take hold.” Drew has noticed “a hell of a lot of new residents lately” — something we have all been noticing in Bushwick approaching the new school year. The shows draw 40-50 people a night, and there are always a few people in there drinking coffee and using the free wifi during the day.

Steve at the computers	stage	bathroom decoupage	storefront

Goodbye Blue Monday is sure to be an anchor in the newly assertive Bushwick hipster community in the years to come. Check it out while it’s cheap!

1087 Broadway between Lawton and Dodworth

(See past observations on the forum.)

“The Changeling” from BedStuyBlog was snooping around our hood the other day, trying to foment a turf war, who knows, and snapped some shots of this building at Willoughby and Broadway.

“I love this building, even though would probably look more at home in Soho or Tribeca. I hope that it will bring some nice retail to the area. The DOB filings posted in the window indicate that this building was involved in manufacturing and that it is currently being transformed into retail and residential units.”

I’m aware of the building, and it’s been in exactly this condition since the first time I saw it last year. What’s the hold up? Is there even a hold up — for all I know, people could be living there but the retail isn’t filled yet. It’s a nice storefront but I’m not sure Bushwick is quite ready for a retailer/restaurant that could take up that amount of space and pay the price of a newly-souped up building.

“While I’m happy to see something so nice in this area, who wants to live spitting distance from an elevated train?”

I was at a loft party recently, in this crazy old building on Ellery, about 2 buildings off of Broadway, and the train wasn’t loud at all even with the windows open. Of course, that’s nothing like being so close to the tracks you can read Lisette’s earrings on the J train.

Anyone know what’s up with this place?
more »

We’re not in South Florida anymore, Niko.

I think of my house as a little bit of Miami in Brooklyn. There are four of us in here from the Magic City, and depending on who’s home, the stairwells smell of bistec empanizado and tostones, and fear not — someone will hook you up with something made of guava or tamarind, or the magic cheese that does not melt even when thrown in a frying pan.

The Changeling’s post about Broadway on BedStuyBlog today made me realize I hadn’t yet mentioned in these pages that there is a major outpost of Miami fast food here in Bushwick — Pollo Tropical. Housed in a freakishly-converted old brick commercial building (the upper half seems to be still abandoned!), it’s like a beacon of familiarity for us in this land of fried chicken, tacos, and different-enough-to-be-strange (though delicious!) Puerto Rican food. It’s a chain that makes Cuban food pretty well, very fast, and relatively cheaply. They sell all kinds of Caribbean food — apparently — but I’m not there for Jamaican jerk chicken, which they clearly only sell because of the likely local clientele. I want pork and rice and BLACK beans, please; I only eat red beans if Haitians touched them first.

The “Tropichop” is their BigMac or Whopper: a big bowl of all the staples. The chicken version is not so great, but the pork is awesome. Their maduros are always flawlessly caramelized outside, creamy and ripe inside. Their yuca is always perfectly frita, golden and flaky outside, soft and spongy inside, the better to soak up all that mojo (garlic, olive oil, OJ). Their desserts are okay — prepackaged flan and tres leches leave much to be desired, but hit the spot if you don’t mind a bit of partially hydrogenated petroleum oil and monosodium poisonate (Simpsons ref).

When we found out the only New York location was down the street, we rushed over there and pigged out until we had to undo our pants to breathe. It’s no Versailles (that’s Ver-sigh-yes), but if you need a big dose of Cubanidad, head to Broadway and stuff yourself full of the closest thing.