[
Photo on 2nd Avenue Tuesday by Derek Berg]
Sen. Hoylman wants to make it illegal for powerful interests to hide behind LLCs (
Town & Village)
Activists celebrate passage of tenant protection legislation (
The Lo-Down)
God's Love We Deliver serves its 20 millionth meal; East Village resident is the recipient of milestone meal (
ABC 7)
DOT apparently not feeling a transit-only 14th Street during the L train shutter (
Streetsblog)
Hells Angel accused of shooting man for moving parking cone died last month of a brain aneurysm (
New York Post ...
previously on EVG)
A visit to Spark Pretty on Ninth Street (
Gothamist ...
previously on EVG)
[
Photo on 3rd Avenue Wednesday by Derek Berg]
Some history outside the Mud Cafe storefront (
Off the Grid)
Debbie Harry's early East Village apartment (
Time Out)
At the screening for "Hunting Pignut" at MoRUS last week (
Slum Goddess)
Little Tong Noodle Shop on First Avenue at 11th Street is now open for lunch from 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. Tuesday through Friday (
Instagram)
The latest mural on the Bowery Wall promotes Instagram’s #KindComments campaign (
BoweryBoogie)
A long read on Gino Sorbillo, "Italy’s most famous pizzamaker," who’s coming to 334 Bowery (
Eater ...
previously on EVG)
The Harry Dean Stanton retrospective continues (
Quad Cinema)
First renderings revealed for Essex Crossing's second phase (
Curbed)
"Big Trouble in Little China" and "Chinatown" among this weekend's highlights at the Metrograph (
Official site)
When Velvet Underground’s "Venus in Furs" was used in a commercial for car tires (
Dangerous Minds)
...and we heard from a few people who were curious about the mystery East Village restaurant that serves as the setting for the
mostly unreadable Kate McKinnon cover story in the new
Vanity Fair:
Kate and I are meeting for lunch, naturally, and she’s suggested a place in the East Village. I can’t say the name because I promised Kate I wouldn’t. (It’s a best-kept secret, only it wouldn’t be if I blabbed, is the idea.) Technically it’s a restaurant, though “restaurant” seems like too highfalutin a term to convey its essence. “Hole-in-the-wall” might be nearer the mark, “dump” nearer still: linoleum floor, laminated menus, Asian-y pop music on the speakers (“Asian-y” is as close as I’ll get to giving away its identity—see, Kate, I didn’t break my word), ceiling fan moving the thick, soupy air around some without cooling it any. Yet the food is as good as the ambience is bad, as I will soon discover when a guy, a waiter I assume though he’s in street clothes, flings on the table first Kate’s dish and then, following a discreet dick adjustment, mine.
H/T Brian Van!