••• Midtown Lunch got the full list of food trucks coming to the World Financial Center, at North End and Vesey: Up to five “trucks will be there seven days a week from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. through 2013. [...] There are some new and old faces represented here on the food side: Big D’s Grub Truck, Bongo Brothers, Eddie’s Pizza, Frites N Meats, Gorilla Cheese, Kimchi Taco, Mexico Blvd., Mexicue, Mike N Willie’s, Milk Truck, Red Hook Lobster Pound, Rickshaw Dumplings, Schnitzel & Things, Taim Mobile and Valducci’s Pizza. And they didn’t forget the desserts with Andy’s Italian Ice, Coolhaus, Cupcake Crew, La Bella Torte, the Treats Truck and Van Leeuwen Ice Cream represented.”

••• “On one of the most secluded streets in the heart of Tribeca, six luxury condominium units will quietly hit the market today and nine more in the same building will follow shortly. They make up all the units in a five-story condominium project at 60 Collister Street, between Hubert and Laight streets, at the former American Express Carriage House building. VE Equities, the developers behind Tribeca’s 471 Washington Street, which sold out last month, and One North Moore [and the upcoming 11 N. Moore], acquired the site in a short sale last year and received attorney general approval to market the units this Tuesday.” —The Real Deal

••• The Daytonian in Manhattan blog takes a long, fascinating look at the history of 121 Hudson, a.k.a. the Castree Building. If you like New York City history, it’s a must.

••• A New York Times article about people who live above restaurants includes the thoughts of Jimmy “The Harrison” Bradley and Cathrine Redmond, who lived (lives?) on Chambers, above where Taylor’s bakery used to be (and before that, a fried-chicken restaurant).

••• Also in the New York Times Real Estate section: A chat with Nancy Sheppard, who lives in Gateway Plaza.

••• A penthouse apartment in the Smyth went up in price after the Kardashians stayed in the hotel. —Wall Street Journal

••• “The owner of the popular downtown diner George’s—where Mayor Bloomberg and Police Commissioner Ray Kelly have dined—wound up in hot water after he tried to skewer a city health inspector by recording his visit on an iPhone.
When the inspector spotted owner Bill Koulmentas’ cellphone scheme, he quickly hit George’s with a slew of violations — totaling 65 points.” George’s is at Greenwich and Rector. —New York Post

••• The Zuccotti Park Greenmarket “moved to West Broadway during the encampment of Zuccotti Park, but has been so successful in its ‘temporary’ location that it will stay.” —Tribeca Trib

••• “Pace University has reached an agreement to move into 140 William Street, taking the entire 50,000 square foot building for its dance and visual arts programs, The Commercial Observer has learned. The school will be relocating from its current space at 280 Broadway. [...] The six-story structure’s basement and lower floors will be converted to dance studios, while upper floors will be dedicated to the art program [...] The ground floor, which boasts 25 foot ceilings and column-free spans, will be converted to house an auditorium for performances” (via Curbed)

••• “New York City drugstore pharmacy giant Duane Reade has agreed to relocate its corporate offices to 40 Wall Street, the same Trump Organization-owned office tower that already houses its sushi-serving, hair-styling flagship megastore.” —New York Observer

••• Remember those “Missing Tortoise” flyers? “Filmmaker Chris Jakesson said a friend taking care of Cheeseburger accidentally left the tortoise in a box in the hallway—and a neighbor thoughtlessly took it outside and let it go. He’s been looking for it ever since and suspects he went underground for the fall and winter. ‘We’re hoping he’ll bury himself and in the spring will pop up,’ said Jakesson. ‘So if anyone sees a tortoise walking down the street…’” —Daily News

••• “Workers installing a new steam pipe on Fulton Street this fall stumbled across an archaeological treasure trove of more than 5,000 objects dating back to the turn of the 19th century.Among the discoveries made in an old basement foundation at 40 Fulton St. were a bone toothbrush, a copper half-penny and hundreds of shards of pottery.” Five thousand years from now, they’ll discover fast-food containers. —DNAinfo

••• “The Battery Park City Authority is calling on residents to point their cameras at tour buses idling or parking illegally in the area, in an effort to pressure the Department of Transportation to tackle the growing problem.” —Tribeca Trib

Pier A (as seen last February)

••• Grub Street learned more on the plans for Pier A: “The aforementioned oyster bar will be located at the end of the pier, with indoor and outdoor dining. The rest of the ground floor will be taken up by a beer garden. Upstairs, a restaurant serving ‘a tribute to local fish and local produce’ will occupy the second floor, ‘not unlike the Harry’s menu, but with a bit more focus on seafood,’ McDonald says, while the third floor will be dedicated to events.”

••• Fashion designer Nicole Miller hosted a book-promo cooking class in her Tribeca penthouse, and Racked attended.

••• A night at Uncle Mike’s. —Stay Thirsty

••• New York Magazine‘s Adam Platt liked Jungsik but only gave it one star. I though this comment on the review got to the heart of it: Jungsik “failed to live down to Mr. Platt’s expectations of Korean dining (and prejudices about dining in general). So that extent, under his logic, NO upscale Korean restaurant could EVER get a favorable review.”

••• “Downtown is so desperate for school seats that the Department of Education should give up its Tweed Courthouse headquarters and build a new school there instead, State Sen. Daniel Squadron said Monday.” —DNAinfo

••• Grub Street has a slideshow of the food and room at Kutsher’s Tribeca. Gee, Gothamist does too. Feeling a little left out here…. [That was petty by any measure, but especially because I told the PR rep I wanted to take my own pix. Sorry! Sometimes I really wish I had an editor.]

••• “A dozen clergy members led about 200 protesters by candlelight from Washington Square Park to a lot near Canal Street and Sixth Avenue Sunday night in an effort to pressure the real estate arm of Trinity Church downtown to use the space in its ongoing fight against economic inequality.” —Crain’s

••• Tribecan Jim Fusilli—I know because he’s my neighbor—is interviewed about his new novel, Narrows Gate. —Hoboken Patch

••• A fascinating photo of Tribeca in 1973. —Doobybrain (?!)

When I’m walking through New York, I spend a lot of time going out of my way to notice little details on buildings and in streets. Sometimes I’ll stand and stare at a wrought-iron fixture in a brick wall and try to understand what it’s for. Or I’ll find myself marveling at manhole covers or the way a sidewalk crumbles into the street. I especially like finding elements of old New York that are still lying around, rusting away amid all the progress, something the improvement somehow missed. I look at all these things with a longing and a sense that I’m recording them, because I know they will be short lived. They too will undergo renovation.

I’m a serious nostalgist, and I have trouble letting go of times gone by. I guess that growing up in a neighborhood like Tribeca makes it all the harder. Even when I was born in 1980, the neighborhood was already in flux. Strictly industrial for a very long time, it saw its first residential boom not long before I came onto the scene. Of course, it would be a long time before residents outnumbered industrial spaces but it was quickly becoming a haven for artists, and many residents had young children. And we thought it was all normal: to operate aging freight elevators up to our homes while our parents watched on, or to find petrified lentils in our floors, reminders of the area’s food-storage days. It wouldn’t be long before Tribeca would develop a cachet and sense of mystique for adventurers from north of 14th Street. But no one knew then just how popular and “improved” a neighborhood it would become. The changes are so vast and ever-increasing that it seems all the more important to revel in the memories of the days of yore. The mystique of a desolate industrial landscape seems so out of place with so many people around, crowding into sleek restaurants and high-end stores.

One of the times when I knew everything had gone haywire was maybe 10 years ago, when a truck was loading something into a building on N. Moore. It was using the traditional method of backing directly into the loading dock and jutting out perpendicularly to the street, so that any traffic would have to drive around it—causing chaos and anger in the livery cab and SUV drivers. In the ‘80’s, kids in Tribeca would duck under those trucks to avoid the long trip around them. I recently relayed stories of checking with my mother before doing so to a new Tribeca resident who brusquely expressed that it sounded dangerous.

Another memory of old Tribeca is that of beat-up stairways. Just about every friend I had as a kid lived in a loft building and most of the stairs looked more or less like they had for decades: dimly lit, atrophied, with a long ascent from the street level door straight to the third or fourth floor, an exhausting climb with the occasional break at each floor’s landing. There was always a good deal of artsy decoration at each tenant’s door but my favorite was the treasure my friend Orien lugged up from the street: a four-foot-tall, foot-operated industrial stapler that we would stamp upon entry. Such a find would be unheard of now.

But Tribeca, like all of downtown Manhattan, was once a treasure trove of found objects. I remember getting tons of use out of those massive cardboard fabric tubes that were always lying around, skateboard jousting being a favorite activity. One winter, when people had resorted to standing discarded Christmas trees up in the snow drifts, my mom and I found mannequins on Franklin Street and upped the ante by propping them up as well, as if they were at some surreal, naked Christmas party.

At a certain point in the 90s, at least half of the block surrounding my parents’ house was vacant warehouses, and my friends and I learned that we could access them from our roof. We creeped through spooky, dark spaces and stepped over holes in the floor. I somehow believed that the defunct water tower and shattered skylight were ancient artifacts that shouldn’t be tampered with. I was a kid, and I didn’t believe in change.

In many ways I still don’t. I sometimes laugh at myself for being so stubborn about inevitable changes in this ever-evolving city. The past will never return, no matter what I do. And I imagine people like me hold themselves back with our refusal to accept the reality of change. It could be argued that there is a use for modern street lamps and paved streets. But I know that at least a part of my nostalgia is worthwhile, that there must be something to my constant and desperate recording and remembering, my assuring myself that the past really happened. One day I was in a diner at Chambers and Church and I saw a man I hadn’t seen in the neighborhood for years. He had worked at the hot dog vendor depot in the ground floor space of my old friend Stefan’s loft building, where the proprietor with the Salvador Dalí mustache would sit out front greeting people. Oddly enough, though it’s prime real estate, the space still houses the hot dog garage. I watched the man as he sat at the counter, staring at the exposed kitchen. I might be reading too far into it but he seemed so unfazed by all of the changes around him, comfortable in his place in the world. I wanted to share the moment with someone, to make it live on in some permanent way. But looking around, I saw only strangers. I could only transmit the image to a safe place in my mind, the only spot where the past can truly live.

After walking by 47 Vestry countless times, I realized I had no idea what the foreign characters painted on the façade mean. So I asked myself to look into it.

I checked the AIA Guide, to no avail. I took the photos you see here and pondered the buzzers, but I didn’t see any that I could justify ringing. The super next door came over to ask what I was up to, and he offered to pass along my card. I Googled, naturally. I posted something on this site asking if anyone knew Korean, because it looked Korean to me. When I was about to give up, I left a note on the front door.

To my utter surprise and delight, the building’s board president, Amy Wolf, called me two hours later. She explained how the residents developed the building themselves, buying it in 1994. “It had that writing on the outside, and we thought it was the history of the building so we left it.” They’ve even maintained it over the years. Wolf said she was under the impression it was Korean for “international noodle corporation or something like that.”

The “something like that” wouldn’t leave me alone, so I asked the folks at my dry cleaners. They said the writing was actually Chinese. I asked again on this site.

Reader Jayne offered to take a look, pointing out that “Some Koreans can read Chinese, as in Korea, certain words are written in Chinese over Korean. Not sure why…. but that mostly happens in newspaper writing.” She didn’t know what the characters meant, but she passed the photos along to a friend, who said, “First letter means ‘Nation’ or ‘country.’ Not sure about the second letter….” As for the second photo, she said, “The first letter means ‘Eating’ or ‘Food.’ The second letter means ‘Product.’ Basically, putting the letters together means 식품 in Korean—Food products or Grocery.”

Then reader Betty volunteered to try: “Chinese characters were traditionally used by the Koreans and Japanese back in the day because it seemed convenient for them since they had not developed a comprehensive writing system,” she explained. “It was only within the last 500 years that each of the countries created a phonetic ‘alphabet’ for vernacular use.” I emailed the photos. “These are Chinese characters of two words with two characters each. The first two characters is the word ‘international,’ and the next two is ‘food/edible supply.’”

Note: Reader Mark emailed to say that “The Japanese readings of these words are: kokusai (International) and shokuhin (Food). Chinese speakers will pronounce them differently but the meanings are the same.”

Got a question? Email it to tribecacitizen@gmail.com and I’ll try to answer it.

Recent “Nosy Neighbor” posts:
• When is T.J. Maxx opening?
• Where is the Special Forces monument going?
• Who’s Moving into 151 Hudson?
• What’s going on at 172 Duane?
• Where is Compose’s pastry chef cooking now?
• What’s up with those Verizon carts?
• Where was the original Blues Bar?
• Who are the guys in the geeky pants?
• Why are the windows above Ponte’s boarded up?
• Can we walk on the West Street medians?
• What’s going on in 157 Hudson?
• What’s the new painting at 153 Hudson?
• What’s up with 55 Warren/55 Murray?
• What is this P.C. Richard & Son Theater I keep hearing about?
• What’s the story behind the lights at 289 Church?
• What’s the Dream House at 275 Church?
• How come every every film and TV shoot seems to have a trailer with doors marked “Lucy” and “Desi”?

Update: Congratulations to David G. Imber! It is indeed at Church and Leonard—on Church at the southwest corner, to be specific. (I might have normally asked which corner, but you mentioned the construction.)

••• I saw something online (yet to be verified) that Tribeca Tap House is opening Wednesday. Click that link and you can make your way to the menu.

••• Remember the post about the Blues Bar? Ron Gwynne, story consultant on The Blues Brothers, commented: “The original Holland Tunnel Blues bar was indeed at Hudson (282) and Dominick. It was halfway between our loft on Chambers and John’s place north of there, and it had been closed for some time. The place was owned by Jimmy Woods, a restaurateur who ran the New York Boat Yard at 81st and 2nd Ave. We cleaned it up and used it to park our bike in it. (In fact the parking for the bike on Chambers was more that the cost of the bar rent.) We used the pay phone (still there) outside as our office phone. Our opening party was when the Grateful Dead played on SNL. Tom Davis was a friend/fan of the Dead and he was able to entice them to play on SNL. Keith Richards and Margot Kidder were our bartenders. We had a motto of “Never open, always closed.” We never charged anything for drinks. Heinekin on draft was available and guests donated libations many times. The jukebox was free. On many occasions we let people use it to rehearse or to entertain. Williams Burroughs, Allman Bros., Levon Helm and Keith Richards used it over time. When the landlord took it back, John and Dan bought the other bar and used it for similar purposes although it was never the same as the original Holland Tunnel Blues Bar. We had many great times there and John once said that John Lennon knew of our club and had told him he liked the idea of a place for musicians to hang out without any pressures.”

••• Agatha Ruiz de la Prada is closed for renovations—six months after opening. “One mirror wall was still missing,” says manager Linda Brun. “We’ll be back open in a day or two.”

Courtesy Midtown Lunch

••• Midtown Lunch checks out Shorties Deli Cafe on Church, “a Mexican restaurant in deli clothes.” I’ve been meaning to go there for a while now, but judging cheap Mexican food can be tough for us vegetarian types. And I’m doubting that the meats there are humanely sourced.

••• Occupy Wall Street protesters have liberated the pissy “Tourists Not Permitted” sign from the Woolworth Building. —The Itinerant Urbanist (via Curbed)

•••”In 1967, William Black, the Chock Full o’ Nuts chairman and founder, refused to surrender the long-term lease for his luncheonette at Broadway and Cedar Street, what is now the southeast corner of [Zuccotti] park. His obstinacy set back completion of the park by 13 years and was so celebrated in its day that it became a case study in Holdouts! (McGraw-Hill, 1984), by Andrew Alpern and Seymour Durst.” —The New York Times

••• OBAO Noodles & BBQ is now open at Water and Coenties Slip. —Midtown Lunch

••• “Why move to 4,000 sq ft 71 Murray Street loft from 44 Laight Street 4,000 sq ft loft?” Um, because they love Muscle Maker Grill? —Manhattan Loft Guy

••• Serious Eats griped about the price of a $7.50 cookie at Duane Park Patisserie (which I read about on Eater), but the best part is DPP owner Madeline Lanciani’s response (in the SE comments): “the cookie is 4.5″ x 4.75″. it is entirely handmade: hand rolled, hand cut, individually iced and decorated with colored chocolate icing. each cookie takes approximately 45 minutes to produce. there are 4 different people involved in the production of each cookie. how much are you paid per hour??” There’s more…

••• Re: Film director Andrew Niccol (who directed Gattaca and whose new movie, In Time, opens soon): “He has a home with Canadian-born Sports Illustrated swimsuit model wife Rachel Roberts in the desired lower Manhattan neighbourhood of Tribeca.” —New Zealand Herald

••• “When they were furnishing their Tribeca loft, Arne Zimmermann, a New York art dealer, and his wife, interior designer Kathrin Eirich, found inspiration on their roof deck. They had chosen a sofa, a coffee table and a dining table with chairs in the ‘Mu’ collection from German outdoor-furniture specialist Dedon (sofa starts at $4,750, coffee table $1,750). While they looked around for interior furnishings, they brought the outdoor pieces inside—and discovered they liked them there.” —Wall Street Journal