I spoke to friends in New York after the election, and they are still reeling. But the city, and particularly Brooklyn, seems to operate in a cultural and political bubble, which I hope will protect them from suggestions of wall-building and immigrant-expelling.
It was in the late 1990s that I wandered across the East river to Brooklyn. There was a really interesting culinary scene there, with individuals interested in esoteric, niche aspects of the food world. Because rents were low, they were able to open their tea shop, burrito place or oyster bar.
At the time there were only a few operators: Diner, close to Williamsburg bridge, and Marlow & Sons next door. I remember thinking where are their customers? But artists priced out of Manhattan were starting to colonise this part of Brooklyn, and an accelerated hipsterisation started around Broadway and Bedford Street. I returned every six months or so and there’d be dozens of new restaurants on the same street.
People say Brooklyn is a hipster Disneyland, but there’s enough authenticity and heart there to make it interesting. The same thing is happening in parts of east London. In Brooklyn, the Hasidic Jewish community has been there for generations and they look at what’s happening with bemusement at best, and resentment at worst. But that’s the way cities evolve and develop.
Four or five years ago Bushwick was a horrible suburb: I was going to a restaurant called Roberta’s and remember coming out of the subway and thinking I’d made a mistake. The place was a graffitied breeze block garage, but inside was a revelation. You hit this wall of good cheer and hospitality, great smells, and warmth, music and laughter. It’s a pizzeria but to call it that does it a disservice. It’s a genuine neighbourhood restaurant that has become a destination.
I asked for a mint tea in a bar one evening. “Is that a cocktail?” asked the bearded bartender. “No,” I said, “it’s just a tea.” He looked at me again. “OK, man, but is it like a thing?” It is at times like this that I realise we really are divided by a common language.
My favourite Brooklyn bar is Maison Premiere. It serves oysters and cocktails, but it’s one of those transporting places Brooklyn does so well – it feels like walking into New Orleans 100 years ago. The cocktails are made with such love and attention to detail. They have an array of antique glasses, so it’s unlikely you’ll drink from the same glass twice.
That New York aesthetic influenced my restaurants in London – Polpo and Spuntino – especially that feeling they’d been there for a century. They had that sense of a place that had achieved its patina through decades of feeding people. But they were all quite new businesses – I loved that sense of faded decrepitude.
The bookshop Spoonbill & Sugartown is not the sort of place you’d ask for the latest Dan Brown: they’d probably kick you out! It’s esoteric to say the least, and very independent. It feels like a library with rare art and architecture and design titles. A great place to lose yourself for an hour or so.
In spring, summer and autumn there’s a great Saturday food market at Williamsburg’s East river state park. Vendors serve wonderful food and the park looks across to Manhattan, so you have the most astonishing view of New York while you’re eating your burger or burrito.
But the best view in New York is from the Wythe hotel on the Brooklyn waterfront, which is very cool – and expensive – but you don’t need to stay here to use the roof bar, The Ides (as in The Ides of March). It faces due west, so the sun sets behind the Manhattan skyscrapers.
Brooklyn has already become an extension of downtown Manhattan. I think it’s actually bit cooler, though. There was a time when Manhattanites would talk condescendingly about out-of towners. The “bridge and tunnel crowd” invaded on Friday and Saturday nights, but the shoe’s on the other foot now, with a reverse migration from Manhattan to Brooklyn.
I love swimming at the Metropolitan Recreation Centre. It’s a beautiful pool in a huge red-brick building. with gorgeous green tiles on the walls and a full-length skylight so as you’re swimming you’re looking up at the sky.
Down by the water, you get a real sense of old Brooklyn. It’s still a port, with lots of cargo coming in, some ugly storage facilities and factories, and the original Brooklyn Brewery.
Near the bridge were a couple of pizzerias who were deadly rivals – Juliana’s and Grimaldi’s. Each claimed it was the original Brooklyn pizzeria: ‘‘Don’t believe what he says down the road.” One of them sold up recently. It was actually bought secretly by a member of the warring family, and then they lost the site and had to move to the next block but they’re still down there. The pizza is really good – these guys know what they’re cooking – but the stories behind the pizzerias are even more interesting. It’s like something out of a New York gangster movie.
• Russell Norman’s new book, Spuntino: Comfort Food New York Style (Bloomsbury, £25) also has walking tours of the city. To buy a copy for £20.50 including UK p&p, visit bookshop.theguardian.com
