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But the last year has seen a boomlet of activity. Joe DiGiovanni sold his namesake restaurant (although it continues to operate under the Joe D's name, and the menu hasn't changed much). The former bagel shop was reborn as a pretty Japanese restaurant, Domo Sushi & Grill. And a block or so to the west, in the corner spot that for decades was occupied by the Sanford Saper Dry Cleaners, a couple of enterprising restaurateurs have created a charming bistro with an ambitious menu called Avenues Bistro Brookside.
A Brookside friend of mine calls it "the restaurant you want to hate but can't." His reasons for wanting to hate it? "There's no place to park, the décor is too precious for words and it's filled with middle-aged, middle-class white people." But he says he eats there anyway because — what the hell — the food is good and reasonably priced. "Brooksiders have re-fined tastes, but they're basically cheapskates," he confesses.
I had my own reason for wanting to hate the place, and it had nothing to do with middle-class honkies or the scarcity of parking — although it is a pain in the ass. Eight weeks ago, I received a phone call from someone announcing himself as the "sommelier" of the Avenues Bistro.
"This restaurant is very new, and the owners realize there are kinks to be worked out," the young man said in a surprisingly unfriendly tone. "As someone who has opened new restaurants before, I know it takes time to get everything worked out. So we are requesting that you not come to this restaurant for a couple of months. That is, until it's ready to be reviewed."
After I caught my breath, I blurted out: "I don't review restaurants until they've been open at least a month, but I'll eat in your joint whenever I damn well want to." Besides, I told him, I'd been on staffs that opened five new restaurants. "I have some news for you," I added. "If the kinks aren't worked out in the first few weeks, they'll be kinking up the place until it closes."
When I told my friend Lorraine, who's also a former server, about this odd conversation, she burst into laughter. "He told you that you couldn't go to the restaurant? Let's go tonight!"
The idea was enormously tempting, but I had other plans, and, frankly, the snotty sommelier had soured me on the place. God forbid, I should be a voyeur, peeping in on a new business in all its kinky glory. I decided to wait a long time before sneaking in.
But it wasn't long before I started hearing good things about Avenues Bistro from some of my friends who are typically critical of new places. They also loved the sommelier. "He's charming and knows everything about wine," one of them gushed. "He even brought some grapes to the table!" I felt my eyes rolling to the back of my head.
Yes, I thought, it was going to be hard not to hate the place.
But after waiting 30 days, I'm here to eat my words.
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