The Ukrainian Orthodox Cathedral is led by a man who shares a name with the church’s own saint: Volodymyr. Pastor Volodymyr Muzychka greeted us at the door to the church, tucked underneath the façade’s wide balcony, dressed in religious robes that gave him an air of beneficence. Despite the language barrier, the pastor could not have been more charming as he led us through the halls of this magnificent church. Volodymyr came to New York from the Ukraine in 2011 and lives within the walls of the cathedral with his family. He told us that he only allows the heat to be on during the winter months for a half an hour in the morning and again at night, despite the frigid temperatures. Smiling, he said that he likes it this way. Since there were no services on the day that we visited, the cathedral building was cool, dark, and serene. We first stopped in to look at a large party room. The hallway leading to it was lined with portraits of influential religious Ukrainian figures. Next, Volodymyr took us up to the sanctuary in an elevator dating back to 1937. The smell of incense greeted us as we stepped into the sanctuary, lined with stained glass. Volodymyr explained that the building was first constructed in 1894-96 to be a synagogue by noted New York architect Arnold W. Brunner and became a church in 1958. We walked up the stairs to the choir loft, which gave an even grander view of the space. I have met many warm and fascinating leaders of both churches and synagogues over the past several years walking on the side streets of Manhattan. Pastor Muzychka touched my heart in a way that no other has, thus far.
The story, or shall I say, the saga, for Gerald and his wife, Peggy, might be the most moving one that I have heard from business owners on the side streets of Manhattan. Enduring multiple setbacks and disappointments - both in New York and Paris - the loving couple nevertheless pursued their ultimate dream of opening a pastry shop. Through determination, separation, and very hard work, in 2017, the two have finally opened their doors to the Upper East Side bakery, Miss Madeleine. Gerald and Peggy Hudeau left Guadeloupe in 2012 with the goal of coming to the United States to begin a new life by opening their own company. With five children in tow, they were forced to stop in Paris to obtain their visas. It took over one year to receive this visa, however, it was only granted to Gerald. He chose to come to New York, on his own, in the hopes of filing the necessary paperwork and getting a license to open a food business. Knowing absolutely no one in New York, and having little money, Gerald found some odd jobs and continued with his efforts to secure a space for the bakery and to do whatever was necessary to bring his family here. After three denials from the US Embassy in Paris, while continuing to pay rent on a potential property in East Harlem, Gerald decided to "fight" on his own, without the help of a lawyer. He filed all of the necessary paperwork again and went for another appointment at the Embassy in Paris. "My God, this time I got the visa, but for only six months. " He, once again, had to leave his wife and kids in Paris because the immigration agent told him that he had to prove that he could provide for everyone before they would be allowed to enter the United States. Arriving back in New York, he found an apartment, took classes to get a food protection certificate, and prepared the necessary licenses for the bakery. Returning to Paris he received the visa as an investor for five years. He made the return trip alone, yet again, to New York. As Gerald related to me, "When I got here, I was obliged to close the store that I had rented in East Harlem, and terminate the contract of very good employees. I was crying in my apartment with only a sofa to sleep, without TV and something to eat. I tried to stay strong by working for another business to get some funds and to get my wife and one daughter in New York first. "Here comes the good news, Gerald said to me, "I was able to have the visa for my wife and my daughter. With my wonderful wife, we tried to open again La Mulatresse Corp - the company that we had begun back in 2012 in Guadeloupe. Both from white and black parents, we created La Mulatresse Corporation, but we closed the property after an explosion of the building's boiler in my basement. "Gerald immediately looked for work. He found this in a large American company, where first he was a laborer, then a shift leader, then an assistant manager and, ultimately, the General Manager. "One of the best days was when all of my kids arrived in New York - in 2015 - and Madisson, my daughter, was again with her brothers and sister. " Gerald went on to say, "We spent a long time with dark days, wondering if it was a good idea, thinking about the kids and their future while fighting with the bills and debt. "Peggy was able to find a job at Canele by Celine, the former bakery here on East 82nd Street. Gerald shared, "When Celine saw the magic in the kitchen, she decided to make a business with us by buying some of our products and asked me to be her General Manager. "This is the point in the story when I had the extreme pleasure of meeting this outstanding man and his wife. We organized several events together, and I was most impressed by how professional Gerald was in representing Canele by Celine, and how kindly he treated his staff and each of the guests. What was overwhelmingly acknowledged by everyone was the exquisite French pastries being served. After one year of working very hard in the small kitchen turning out wondrous creations, Celine decided that it was time for her to turn over the operations to Gerald and Peggy to fulfill their own personal dream. It was a long and difficult road to travel, but the beautiful couple has finally found their destiny. Miss Madeleine has opened its doors to their loyal neighbors, who have returned to support them and to eat their variety of delectable sweet and savory food. "We hope to continue to show people the best of French pastries in an authentic French setting. "
This shop grabbed my attention the second I stepped inside the door and smelled the scent of fresh sawdust. As he guided me through the expansive workshop, John Wolf stated, “We’re the secret that’s not a secret, ” adding, “Everything is custom: I never make the same piece twice. ”John is a seventh generation woodworker. The family business began in the 1800s near Munich, Germany and remained in Europe until John’s father came to the United States in 1956 with a set of carpentry knives. John vividly remembers coming into work with his father as a child and being delegated the glamorous jobs of sweeping and cleaning the toilet. He knew from a young age that he would be the one to take over the family business. As he told me, “I am the hands of the family and my brother is the brains. ” His first proper job at his father’s company was as a truck driver, which he thoroughly enjoyed. He soon worked his way up to installer and foreman. He did not want to go to college, preferring to work, but in hindsight, he is glad that his father insisted that he go to Parsons School of Design. John eventually took over from his father in the late 1970s. With such a substantial amount of history in the neighborhood, it is no surprise that Little Wolf has become a household name. “We’re already doing kids’ kids’ kids’ kids’ rooms, ” he said, counting out the four generations that have passed through his doors. He mentioned that he loves working on children’s rooms, because they always know exactly what they want and have big dreams about how things should look. He often has customers who come by and tell him “I still have my room that your father made for me in 1973. ” The family business’s longevity is partly thanks to good policies: John does not use any formaldehyde or MDF and gets most of his wood from Canada. All of the painting is done on site, once a piece has been custom fitted. Guiding me through the first of four main spaces, John showed me a painting on the wall done by the artist Peter Max. It depicted John’s father in the workshop, surrounded by swaths of color. Between John and his father, the Wolfs have done a wide variety of jobs throughout the city. “I haven’t seen everything, but I’ve seen a lot. ” When he was first starting out in the business, John would make “show-off” pieces when he did not have too many orders. He called these experimental sessions “play time. ” Though he wishes he had more “play time, ” he is happy to be so busy and enjoys the projects that come his way. Quoting the Navy slogan, John said, “It’s not just a job, it’s an adventure. ”I asked John why the business was called “Little” Wolf. He smiled and answered, “It’s basically named after me. ” He went on to explain that when his mother was pregnant with him, friends of his father said, “Here comes another Little Wolf. ” Even after having been part of the business since (literally) birth, it was clear to me that John still loves what he does. I was curious to know if the family business would continue into the next generation. John has two young daughters, but says that he will not push them. “They have to want it. ” He feels very strongly about family-owned businesses, however, saying, “You can’t buy anything with real value if it doesn’t come from a family. A family really cares. ”
I had been told about Salon Riz by several people who live on the Upper West Side. They raved about Mike Riz’s space and told me that it cultivated a comfortable, relaxing environment unlike any other - "a visceral experience" is how Lisa, at the nearby women's boutique, Pachute, describes her time spent here. Still, I was surprised by the warm, rustic salon that greeted me when I came through the door. It felt more like a garden patio with its little mossy birdhouses and strings of postcards decorated with grasses. Flowers and botanicals met my eye wherever I looked and a central table was filled with treats including fresh brewed tea with honey, cookies, crackers, and pretzels. Examining the offerings more closely, I spotted a bottle of Disarono and removed the lid of a plate holding healthy, gluten-free “Aussie bites. ”Mike’s story of immigration to Manhattan is fascinating (and an example of why I so love to walk and meet the people on the side streets). Growing up in Beirut, Lebanon, he originally wanted to be a jewelry designer, but did not have enough money for materials. Instead, he turned to hairstyling. He swept the floors in a Beirut hair salon for the equivalent of $3 per week and miraculously managed to save enough money to pay half the tuition to go to beauty school. The school wanted to refuse him admittance because of his lack of funds, but Mike persuaded them to let him work as a janitor at night in order to pay off the rest. He graduated and started making a name for himself as a hair stylist, catching the attention of Lebanese celebrities. He moved to New York in 2004, but is still sought out by old Lebanese clients traveling in the area. Mike worked on the Upper West Side for ten years before realizing his dream. Today, he has some college age clients who have been coming to him since they were children. I, too, have become an immediate fan. I walked out of the salon after my first visit knowing that I would not be going anywhere else again. In addition to brightening up my color and giving me an outstanding haircut, I was totally taken by the ease with which Mike and his team work and the speed that he gets his clients in and out without making them feel rushed. I loved the intimacy of Salon Riz best of all. Katherine is the manager of the salon and her loyalty to Mike was apparent from our first conversation. She met him while they were both working at Extreme Color and then followed him when he opened on the West Side. In speaking about the decor, she commented, “Even the tiniest detail Mike picked out. " She pointed to a picture frame, showing that the angle at which it hung, forming an asymmetrical diamond, was specifically chosen by Mike. He is constantly adding to his cozy home and changing it for the seasons. “Every time I come, something is different or added, ” Katherine said. When I visited, it was late January, and some small flowers had already been hung from the lights in anticipation of Valentine’s Day. Katherine shared that on February 14th, everyone who walks into the salon leaves with a rose. Katherine went on to say that in the springtime, Mike hangs butterflies on the ceiling, giving clients something pretty to look up at while getting their hair washed. Mike told me that the space used to be the rubbish room for the building. He picked up the little sign ("RUBBISH") that he had saved and decorated as a remembrance. The renovation understandably took a long time, and when he opened in June of 2014, he had only just finished construction. He is now very pleased with the place he has carved out for himself a year and a half later, calling it “rustic chic. ” “This is a space for the community, ” he told me. He hosts various events in his salon, including a comedy show featuring Danny Cohen of Comedy Central along with five other comics and a holiday bazaar through the month of December. Mike either shares the space for special events, as was the case when shop owners took over the treats table during the winter holidays, or he completely reconfigures the interior for shows, using salon chairs as additional seating. Sometimes the events are directly tied to enhancing the experience of his customers, such as when he brought live music into the salon during New Year’s Eve to entertain the clients having their hair done. Katherine shared some of the other unique concepts that Mike has instituted to enhance everyone's experience. For his frequent customers, he has special alerts next to their name in the computer system, such as, “This customer likes Tina Turner and white wine. ” Because of the personal attention and the warm relationship that Mike has developed with customers, they often wander in just to say “hi” and to grab a cup of coffee. “I always encourage people to come in and say hello, even if they’re not getting their haircut, ” Mike said. Though he gets a lot of people who live and work in the neighborhood, he is also sought out by many men and women throughout the city. On the day that we stopped in to take some photos, Olivia, a member of the Manhattan Sideways team, shyly asked if Mike might have a second to trim her bangs. She was so pleased to be attended to by this gifted artist and loved the way that he styled her beautiful long head of red hair. She paid particular attention to the product that he used - Mike told us that Label M, designed by hair stylists, was a London Fashion Show sponsor. He went on to say that he always tries to stay on top of the newest and best hair products. Cost is not an issue; quality is what matters to him. I believe that Mike has gained not only me as a new customer, but Olivia as well. Upon leaving Salon Riz, Olivia declared that the journey from Brooklyn will certainly be worth the trek.
The first time that I stopped into Brady's, it was a Sunday afternoon, and when I asked the bartender for a business card, one of the regulars jovially yelled out, "This isn't a business, it's a circus. " And thus began my relationship with this friendly corner spot. A bar has stood on 82nd and Second Avenue since the early 1900s, though it was not always called Brady’s. The original bar, McGrath’s, which was allegedly “open” during Prohibition, was bought by an Irishman named Dan Brady in 1961. In 1991, Mr. Brady signed it over to his son, Dan Jr., who left his work in the world of computers to run the family business. I spoke to the younger Dan, who is chock full of memories of the bar. Although his father was Irish and there is a large selection of Irish whiskey, Brady’s is more of a sports bar than an Irish tavern. Dan describes it as a “blue collar bar in a white collar neighborhood. ” His earliest memories of the establishment are from when he was just a toddler and customers would take him by the hand and lead him to the candy counter down the street. He told me stories of running out the front door and in through the back door over and over and playing ball against a building on 82nd Street. He also showed me a photograph on the wall, taken in 1976, of an outing to Westchester. Dan’s whole family, as well as many of the bar customers, chose to go on the trip together. I was impressed to learn that Dan has studied up on the history of the neighborhood. He took me outside and pointed to a notch where horses had been tied up back when the old carriage house (now the restaurant and teahouse King’s Carriage House) was in use, and pointed out where the hay for the horses used to be kept. When Dan took over from his father, he made a lot of changes (installing flatscreen TVs, adding a dart board and a pool table, and updating the jukebox). He had suggested these ideas to his father before he inherited the bar, but Dan Sr. preferred to keep it the way it had always been and told his son to wait to change the layout until Brady’s was in his name. There is no doubt in my mind that Dan made the right decision to follow in his dad's footsteps - his eyes lit up each time he spoke about a different memory or showed me another personal touch to the bar, including the back wall, which had a signed boxing glove from Mohammad Ali and other sports memorabilia. Before I left, Dan mentioned that many people assume that because the bar is 100 years old, it is an “old man’s kind of place. ” Though it is true that many of the customers have been coming for years, Dan said that the atmosphere of the bar changes considerably at around 8pm to welcome a different kind of crowd. People of all ages come to drink, converse, and play games. “We have a really friendly pool table, ” Dan told me with a smile, adding that the experts are usually very happy to give advice to those who request it.
Sutton Clocks is what we at Manhattan Sideways refer to as a true hidden gem. The low shop was lined on both sides with clocks dating back to the eighteenth century, set to different times. I understood why they all displayed different hours when the first one chimed and I imagined the deafening roar that would result if the thousands of clocks went off at once. Sebastian Laws, the youngest son of the original owner, met me at the door. His father, Knud Christenson, came to the United States from Denmark in the 1940s. He initially partnered with Kay Yeager, who owned Sutton Trading, a pawn shop. Knud was a Renaissance man and worked at many things, including importing fish and building furniture, but he quickly found his niche fixing clocks. He began working from a small loft on 61st Street. Sebastian told me how his father recognized a passion for fixing things and working with small parts in his youngest child and took Sebastian on as an apprentice. Sebastian took over the business in the 1990s, and when he lost his lease in 2012, he found this quaint space on 82nd Street. He is excited to have his first store front and to live in a relatively quiet neighborhood again after witnessing 61st Street turn into an extension of midtown. The clocks on display, which are all for sale, come from a variety of sources, including having been abandoned by previous owners. Sebastian pointed to a deep green one that resembled a portal on a submarine, saying that it dated back to 1780. His favorite clock on the wall, however, was a sturdy American clock with early twentieth century lettering, which he called a “strong workhorse. ” Though he now has the space to put clocks on the wall for retail purposes, his main occupation is repairing clocks. People bring him clocks of all shapes and sizes, from mantle clocks to fantastic grandfather clocks. When I asked him if there was a particular kind of clock that was most difficult to fix, he responded without hesitation: “cuckoo clocks. ” He then went on to explain that the Swiss souvenirs are often built as tourist traps rather than trusty timepieces. When I thought that I had seen all that there was to appreciate in this minute space, Sebastian guided me to his worktable in the back, which was surrounded by gears, pendulums, various tools of the trade, and hundreds more time pieces. For the most part, Sebastian’s siblings have not been involved in their father’s business, beyond doing some sweeping in the store and other odd jobs as children. Sebastian’s brother James, however, recently joined him to help with the administrative side of things, in an effort to allow Sebastian to focus on the hands-on work. “I enjoy solving puzzles, ” Sebastian told me. Though he learned a lot from his father, he admitted that his most valuable training came from the job itself, since each clock is different and must be examined as its own unique puzzle. At a certain point, he started repairing barometers along with clocks. He informed me that though the mechanisms are completely different, barometers are often lumped into the same pile as timepieces. Sebastian went on to tell me that his customers come not only from every part of the city, but from all over the country and around the world. He mentioned that quite a few regulars were also his father’s clients. He has a fascinating outlook on his career. He loves that the clocks that he handles each have a special tactile history. By looking at the markings on a clock, he can get into the head of the original horologist who made it and can track the life of the timepiece. He pointed out that a man who built a clock in London in the 1800s probably did not imagine that it would end up in Sebastian’s hands in New York in the twenty-first century. Similarly, one day in the future, horologists will trace clocks back to Sebastian and know when they passed through Manhattan.
I often wish that I could somehow capture sounds and smells on Manhattan Sideways. I especially felt that way at the Church of the Holy Trinity, where Andrew, the director of music, was practicing on the large Letourneau organ, which replaced the church’s old organ in the mid-1990s. The booming, melodious tune echoed throughout the halls of the enormous ceiling as Colleen Glazer, the Program Director and Director of Religious Education, led us through the church. The Holy Trinity congregation began in what is called the “lower church” downstairs in 1898 while the upper church was being built. The grand structure took fourteen years to make and was opened in 1912. The sand- and terracotta-colored walls are made of Guastavino tiles, a material that was invented by Spanish architect Rafael Guastavino in 1885. It ensures that vaulted ceilings, such as those of Holy Trinity, remain strong and self-supporting. The tiles are especially prevalent in Beaux Arts structures. Over a century after the church’s inception, the congregation is going strong. Colleen was keen to tell us that there are some 1400 parishioners. She went on to say that she has witnessed the demographics of the neighborhood shifting, bringing in many more young families. The church is also proud of its diversity: the congregation is home to people of all races, nationalities, and ages, drawn together by their faith.
"People don't understand how neighborhood based we are. How we all watch out for one another. If you don't live here you don't get it. " According to Elizabeth King, owner of the enchanting Kings' Carriage House for over thirty years, there is a different rhythm on a side street. "We walk at a different pace than on the avenue. "Elizabeth graduated college with a fine arts degree, but her passion was always cooking and entertaining. "I always had a food bug, a true love of anything culinary. " Her first venture was catering, where she immediately had a "robust stream of business, " so she made the decision to follow her dream and left her job in advertising. "I decided to go into it full time knowing nothing. " Along the way, she had "a few side street jobs, " including opening a bakery and she did some food styling, but in the back of her mind, a restaurant was waiting for her. While traveling in Ireland, Elizabeth met Paul Farrell. They dated for seven years between New York and Dublin until he finally agreed to make the move to New York. It was also during these excursions overseas that her business concept crystalized, and she began looking for a space. When she walked past a three-storied townhouse one day on East 82nd that had been a Hungarian bookstore, and found it to be empty, she began her pursuit of the landlord. It took a year where Elizabeth continuously put notes in the mailbox inquiring about renting the building. She was determined to share her concept with the owner, and in 1994 she was finally able to persuade him to listen to her. It turned out that he was hardly ever in town, and she became the trustee of the building, even renting the apartment next door. "Life was so different then. We opened on a shoestring, but we sold out every night for a really long time. " Elizabeth described how the neighborhood supported her, wanting to see her flourish, but there were also celebrities coming in on a weekly basis, and then as Kings' Carriage was written up in the New York Times diners from abroad also began seeking them out. " Our concept resonated with people around the globe. It was an amazing time, just fabulous. " Mrs. Astor even had her 99th birthday party here. When Elizabeth and Paul's daughter was born, "people would see her in her jammies as a little girl. " Kings' Carriage has always been a different experience - a charming, intimate family restaurant. "The magic of tea is about the moment - slow down, soak it in, be a bit reflective, or share it with another person. " Thus, Kings' Carriage is known for their traditional afternoon tea service in an elegant British setting with English china, teapots, paintings and crystal chandeliers filling every nook and cranny. And, for decades their dinner menu has been prix fixe with three scrumptious courses. Elizabeth and Paul wanted people to come in and have a leisurely, beautiful meal. "I knew from the beginning that I wanted people to have the experience that we had in a Manor House restaurant in Ireland with lingering hospitality. " The restaurant continues to have a different menu every day. "We were farm to table thirty years ago before people knew what this was. " They have always chosen the menu based on what the market had. Elizabeth has written the menus since day one and when it is busy, "I am the add on in the kitchen. "