Day: February 2nd, 2007

A night in DUMBO

Friday, February 2nd, 2007 | All Things, Eats, Friends

Just after knocking off of work for the week, I met up with SYB and JC, and the three of us hopped the 2 into Brooklyn. Slowed slightly by injury, we made our way through foggy, rain-slicked sidewalks to the Fulton Ferry Landing area between the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges for dinner.

Grimaldi’s Pizzeria on Old Fulton Street is consistently rated by Zagat’s among the top pizzas in the city. The pizzeria was founded in 1990 by Patsy Grimaldi, a nephew of Patsy Lancieri (the man behind the original Patsy’s in East Harlem) — but has the look and feel of a place far older. On fine days, the line stretches down the block for the coal-oven pizzas — no reservations, no delivery; tonight, the early dinner hour and inclement weather kept most of the crowds away.

Inside, the scene was all red-checkered tablecloths and Sinatra memorabilia; Johnny Cash rumbled on the jukebox. We each picked a topping and within mere minutes, the pie arrived at the table, steaming hot and perfectly charred. Fresh, homemade mozzarella, crushed basil-infused Italian tomatoes, onions, roasted peppers, black olives… and that crust! Crispy, smoky and chewy all at once — it set the pizza on a different plane. We sat blissfully chewing as the rain-dampened crowds trickled in around us, considering whether we’ve ever had better. I don’t think so.

Grimaldis Sign

Grimaldis Pizza Makers

In better weather, Grimaldi’s pizza is the perfect way to cap off a walk over the Brooklyn Bridge. And, according to one of the framed articles on the wall, a marriage proposal.

Which brings me to the main reason for our trip: MW and MA’s engagement party. The rains had tapered off by then, and bellies full, we strolled into DUMBO along cobblestone streets, past the galleries and funky boutiques. The affair was being hosted by a friend of the couple’s in one of the swanky warehouse conversions overlooking the waterfront, in a building known for both its striking lobby sculpture and its rodent problem. (Eek.)

The apartment itself was stunning, offering a swell space in which to mingle among the other guests, including one whose path I must have crossed many, many times, yet never met until this night. One of those serendipitous New York moments. It called to mind the opening lines of ABC’s Six Degrees : “In New York City, they say you walk by the person you are going to marry three times before you even meet them.” Aside from the use of the amorphous “they” — which¬†irks me¬†— the idea is intriguing, if unprovable. Perhaps the reason I’m attending engagement parties (and not hosting them) is because I don’t walk the streets enough.

Or perhaps it’s because I quote indefinitely hiatused J.J. Abrams shows.

Old Fulton Street

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