Mill Basin is Very Busy Unloading Groceries!

Plus! This Week in Coffee!! A Reunion With Pete the Drummer!!!

Hello everyone,

Welcome to Issue #138 of CAFÉ ANNE!

A long while ago, I played keyboard and sang in a band, Full Throttle Artistotle. We performed all over Brooklyn and Manhattan, often to disturbingly small audiences.

I haven’t seen the drummer, Pete Solomita, in 22 years. So I was delighted when he emailed recently to invite me on his podcast/YouTube show, “Story Telling on Orchard Street.” It was a lot of fun, as you can see from the screen shot Pete grabbed from the video.

You can watch or listen here.

In other news, huge Yankees-in-the-World-Series shoutouts to this week’s newest paid subscribers Irene K, Andrea G., Charlotte K., Ana R., Miranda D., and Stephen G. That’s enough $$$ to buy a half a ticket to the big game!

I am very excited for this week’s issue, of course. I visited Mill Basin for the latest in my series of NYC community profiles, “The Neighborhood Speaks!” Not to mention some HUGE COFFEE NEWS. RAH!!!!! Please enjoy.

Regards!

Anne

ATTENTION ENTREPRENEURS AND STARTUP BUSINESSES

You are invited to a FREE virtual small business pitch contest like no other. "The Pitch Show” contestants are startups pitching alternative, progressive businesses. They want to make money, but also give back to their community. The audience votes on who wins cash prizes. You will hear four great pitches and can win cool prizes in a trivia contest. The online All Hallow’s Eve Contest is Wednesday, October 30 from 6:30 to 8:30 PM. Learn more about The Pitch Show and get your FREE tickets here.

THIS WEEK IN COFFEE

Pumpkin Spice Latte on Trial!

Coffee rules my world, so I’m pleased to announce a new recurring feature, “This Week in Coffee,” which will run every now and then, featuring the hottest coffee news and updates on my personal coffee life. I know!!!

Best Coffee News All Year!

Ever since the pandemic, when cafes started hiding the milk and sugar behind the counter, I’ve struggled to explain to baristas exactly how much cream I want in my coffee. They seldom get it right, so I’m always asking for a re-do, which I’m sure is annoying to them.

But good news: Last week, the WSJ reported that Brian Niccol, the new CEO at Starbucks (and previously CEO at Chipotle!), may restore the help-yourself condiment counter—Splenda packets and all. And as we all know, as Starbucks goes, so goes the nation. We can pray for this.

Is Milk the New Milk?

First it was soy milk (so nasty!), then almond milk (worse!) and most recently, oat milk (not so bad, but really, people!) edging out whole milk as the creamer of choice among cool kids. So what's next?

In a recent issue of her Boss Barista newsletter, Substack writer Ashley Rodriguez reports that whole milk may be the new milk! At least in NYC, it seems, “hot girls” are ordering whole milk lattes again. Yes, I’ve been that hot girl all along, and it’s great to see things come full circle.

Pumpkin Spice Latte on Trial!

For a decade, I’ve declined to participate in the mania that is pumpkin spice. I'm a coffee traditionalist, and the idea of a pumpkin spice latte just struck me as stupid. But recently, curiosity won out. It's been a thing for so long. Had I been missing out on a fall treat all these years?

I chose to get my first pumpkin spice latte at Starbucks, of course, as it is the standard. And I knew I'd come the right place. A hand-lettered sign greeted me at the counter: "HAPPY PUMPKIN SPICE SEASON!"

I ordered and told the barista this was my first time. "I was gonna ask you!" she said, sensing my excitement. "You want the whip?"

"It comes with whipped cream?" I squeaked. I love whipped cream.

She suggested the smallest size—a 12-ounce—since I was new to the game. Including my dollar tip, it cost $7.80. Which seemed expensive. But this was, after all, a coffee adventure.

And first sip, wow! It was sweet, it was frothy, it tasted like every wonderful coffee cake ever, only it was coffee itself.

I texted three friends with the news: "OMG drinking my first pumpkin spice latte at Starbucks it's sooooo gooood! Where have you been all my life?"

Then I took another sip, and another, and another. The coffee started to cool. The foamy top dissipated, and the whipped cream dissolved into the coffee. And that's when it turned on me. Suddenly, the drink was cloyingly sweet and tasted like a chemical factory.

"Oh wait only the first third was great," I texted an update. "Now it is horrible. I can't finish."

My "friend" Aharon replied: "Maybe the last tenth is good?"

But I'll never know, because I threw it away.

What Starbucks should do is offer just the first third of the drink—a four-ounce version—for $2. That's about all anyone needs of a pumpkin spice latte.

THE NEIGHBORHOOD SPEAKS!

Mill Basin is Very Busy Unloading Groceries!

I was minding my own business last week when the knowing arrived like a yacht cruising into New York Harbor: It was time to visit Mill Basin.

I’d never been to this seaside community in southeast Brooklyn, and as far I know, had never met any of its 7,000 residents.

But I'd heard some stories, lately, from folks who knew people who lived there, and the tales were intriguing. They always seemed to involve someone who had amassed a huge fortune from sources not easily explained. I'd come to think of Mill Basin as the Land of Plumbers with Yachts—folks who are wealthy not thanks to their Harvard Law degrees, but due to their street smarts. People, in short, who are terrifying.

I'd also been intrigued by a hilarious account of the neighborhood by my colleague Rob Stephenson focusing on the area's bonkers mansions built by, as he put it, "oligarchs and cartel bosses."

Reader, I must confess—I had the whole story written in my head before I set one foot in Mill Basin. It would include a zany real estate tour, a run-in with exactly the wrong person, and an unforgettable ending which had me drowning in the canal with a cinder block tied to my left ankle.

That is not what happened.

Mill Basin—an island before developers filled in the north end—juts into Jamaica Bay and is shaped like the business end of a Crescent wrench. A largely residential neighborhood about a mile wide, it features gently curving streets and single-family homes.

It's also very far away! Heading from my home in Brooklyn Heights, I had to take the subway to the B44 bus to the B100 bus, which took 90 minutes.

I knew it'd be worth it. But when the bus trundled onto the island, I blinked with disappointment. Mill Basin looks like every other NYC neighborhood developed in the 1950s and 60s—blocks of attached brick bungalows featuring white-painted garages.

The driver pulled up to the corner of National Drive and Mill Ave. "Last stop!"

I disembarked and surveyed my surroundings. I was staring down another block of neat brick homes, some with actual white picket fences—only the fences were plastic. There was zero traffic and fewer pedestrians. London Plane trees arched over the quiet street, leaves shimmering in the breeze. The birds were singing. Where were the gangsters?

Then I spotted a man unloading his car. To my surprise, he was happy to chat about the neighborhood.

Paul Yedin grew up in East Flatbush and moved to Mill Basin in 1985. "Love it!" he said. "It's just a real comfortable place to grow a family. We have a strong sense of community, where neighbors look out for each other. And not all this, you know, crime. We have simple crime—car thefts and things like that.”

"It sure doesn't feel like New York City here," I said.

"Well, we're sort of isolated to some degree," he said. "We have the advantages of not being gated, but also being kind of private."

"What do people do for fun?" I wondered.

"Manhattan is not that far away. Yeah, you have Yankee Stadium, you have Citi Field, you have the Meadowlands. You have all the museums, the restaurant scenes," he said, naming a bunch of attractions that are nowhere near Mill Basin.

I asked what folks around here do for a living. Most are professionals or teachers, he said.

Mr. Yedin, for example, was neither an oligarch or a gangster. He was a retired pharmacist.

Moving on, I took in the neighborhood's quirks. Some of the brick rowhouses had been modified to resemble miniature Tuscan villas, or Nantucket beach shacks—or both! Many had paved their yards to create additional parking for their BMWs and Mercedes. Some managed to squeeze two cars into their tiny front lots!

Then there was the topiary. It looked as though a fleet of gardeners employed by Dr. Seuss had swept through the neighborhood to trim all the hedges.

I spotted roughly one live human per block—always someone unloading groceries from their trunk. And they were all too busy to talk—something about the holidays.

Then I realized, it was Sukkot, a week-long holiday observed by Orthodox Jews. It involves eating and sleeping in a tiny, leaf-covered hut—which some had erected in their front yard.

Mordekhay Malka, a food buyer from Israel, was the only person with time to chat. He'd bought a house in Mill Basin for the community feel. "It's a great neighborhood," he said. "Family and friends."

I asked who lives here.

"A lot of Jews," he said. "Russians too! It changed. It used to be Italian. Now you have to look for those decorated houses around Halloween. It's not like it used to be. The Jews, we don't celebrate Halloween.”

"I didn't know that." I said. "I have a lot of Jewish friends..."

"They don't decorate their house," he said firmly.

He went on to describe the area’s many synagogues, park and 24/7 private security patrol, funded by residents. The neighborhood is best for families, he said.

"What kind of person wouldn't be happy here?" I wondered.

"I don't think there's any person who wouldn't be happy here," said Mr. Malka.

Before we parted, I asked where I could see "the “craziest houses," and he pointed me down Mayfair Drive.

Holy moly! How can I describe these houses? I wouldn't call them McMansions so much as McPalaces, rising three or four stories, looming over the modest bungalows they'd replaced.

I've studied enough art history to know that architecturally, these homes make no sense. But that does not mean they are not a lot of fun! I was delighted to spot pink marble front yards, Greek columns, Romanesque balconies, serpent sculptures and 20-foot Palladian windows. These houses were definitely built to impress, if not terrify and alarm.

Sadly, there was no one around to explain what what I was seeing. After traversing the entire island, I  spotted one last Orthodox man with a white beard and yarmulke—unloading groceries from his car. He gave me his number and said he'd be happy to talk—after the holidays.

I was relieved to spot what at this point felt like an urban oasis—a strip mall! Shopkeepers are often a good source of info about the locals, and I was not disappointed when I stopped into Eleanor Schain, a fancy boutique where the glittery gowns cost $3000 to $7000.

Owner Andrea Campanile told me the business was started in 1963 by her mother, who ran a personal shopping service out of the family basement. The store moved to the strip mall in 1991 and attracts folks from around the tri-state area.

I watched as a trio of customers took turns standing on a pedestal for fittings.  "If you want to buy a dress and you need it for tonight, but it's five inches too long, we'll fix it for you," said Ms. Campanile. If an Orthodox customer needs sleeves sewn on a gown to make it more modest, she can do that too.

We chatted about Mill Basin. I got the now-familar line about it being a friendly, tight-knit community.

"What about those big houses?" I pressed.

"The big houses are people who came here, a lot of Russian people. I guess they did well in business. It's their version of the American dream," said Ms. Campanile. "So they're very opulent. There's a lot of glass and there's a lot of mirror and gold leaf, and it's almost like trying to recreate the palatial splendor of Russia. That's why a lot of them are so over-the-top."

"It sounds like you've been inside a few of them?” I asked.

"Yes," said Ms. Campanile. "A lot of marble, ornate staircases. Some of them are actually stately and elegant, and some of them are hideous!"

Heading back into the neighborhood, I felt I had a better understanding of the wild architecture. Maybe it was the design equivalent of me at an all-you-can-eat buffet, where I load my plate with sushi AND pasta AND chicken masala because I'm so hungry!

But I still wanted to meet one of the owners.

And that's when I spotted a black Bentley backing into the garage of a three-story white mansion. I ran over, waving my arms. The driver stopped and rolled down a tinted window, revealing more red leather and chrome than I'd seen since my dad's 1968 Lincoln Continental.

I told him I was writing a story about the neighborhood and wanted to talk to someone who lived "in one of these amazing houses!"

He was friendly enough, but explained, in a Russian accent, that his wife was waiting and he had groceries to unload. The holidays and all...

"Everyone is busy unloading their groceries!” I pouted.

He smiled haplessly, as if there was nothing a man can do when there’s lettuce wilting in the trunk. “Any other time,” he said, rolling up his window.

I still had a few items to cross off my to-do list. First, get a glimpse of the yachts supposedly parked in the canal behind the mansions. I asked an older lady walking her Cocker Spaniel how to see the waterfront. She understood just enough English to answer my question. "Door locked, family, family," she said, indicating the private homes lining the street. "Nyet, nyet!"

I was also curious to visit Shiny Paws, the only business on the south end of the island. The address turned out to be a private home with no signage. A lady inside who caught me gawking beckoned me to the window. Yes, she confirmed, it was a dog grooming business. But they were too busy to talk.

I was moving on when someone called me back. Yoav Shriki, the owner, had popped out the side door. He was happy to chat about his business.

Also from Israel, he used to work in finance, "At a bank," he said.

"On Wall Street?" I asked.

"No, in Queens."

He opened the grooming, boarding and training business five years ago out of his home, "Because I love dogs,” he said. He is much happier now.

His house overlooks the water and he gave me a peek behind a tall gate into the backyard where he trains dogs. With its private dock, green lawns and sparkling waters, it was a little slice of canine heaven.

You can tell a lot about a community by their pets, I observed. What's the story in Mill Basin?

"A lot of doodles," said Mr. Shriki, referring to the pricey Poodle mixes that are all the rage these days. “We do a lot of fancy haircuts. We dye the dog hair. You can check the Instagram and see. People love pink!"

Having circled the neighborhood twice, I found myself back at the strip mall, so I stopped into the David James Salon & Day Spa. It was another family business. Owner Tara Woltman said her father, a hairdresser and her mother, a colorist, set up shop here decades ago, and now the operation is hers.

“We've got many clients we've had for years,” said Ms Woltman. “It goes from people my mom's age, then they bring their daughters in, and then they bring their daughters in."

Her clients include "Your regular, everyday American Jews and Italians, but we've added in Israeli and Russian, and now an Orthodox element."

I wondered if the Israelis and Russians and Orthodox clients had different preferences when it came to hair-dos and wax jobs.

"I think everyone has the same preference," said Ms. Woltman. "Really, everyone is social-media obsessed. So whatever is the going trend on Instagram trickles down to here."

I found this depressing, but felt better when the talk turned to those ginormous houses. Ms. Woltman lit up as she started showing me photos on Zillow of the neighborhood's most outrageous homes.

"This house, I think, at one point was owned by a Russian Princess or something." she said, showing me a photos of 2548 National Drive, which the New York Post once referred to as a “$17 million Russian Spaceship” inhabited by the “Russian-American Paris Hilton.”

Before I left, Ms. Woltman gave me a once-over. "Satora does amazing threading on the eyebrows,” she said. “Do you ever do your eyebrows?"

"No, no, no," I said. I needed to head home.

"She's amazing," she said.

"No, I actually like my eyebrows the way they are." I said.

"She's amazing!" Ms. Woltman repeated.

"I'm sure she is, but I like my eyebrows," I said. "You look concerned..."

I managed to flee Mill Basin with my eyebrows intact.

What a stupid day. It was fun enough, but I hadn’t met a single oligarch!

When I got back on the bus, I logged into ChatGPT and typed a prompt: "Please generate a conversation between Anne Kadet and a wealthy Russian who had a custom home built in Mill Basin."

The results aren’t bad. Please enjoy. Or don’t!

Anne Kadet: [Admiring the opulent interior] “Wow. This place is incredible. Mind if I ask how it all came together?”

Wealthy Russian: [Smiling proudly] “Of course, of course. You see, when I came to Brooklyn, I thought, ‘If I am going to live in America, I will live in style.’ None of this Manhattan penthouse nonsense—no, I want water, I want space. So, Mill Basin! Like a private island, but in Brooklyn.”

Anne: “Did you already have a vision for this home when you found the property?”

Russian: “Oh yes. From the moment I saw the lot, I had the idea. But it wasn’t easy. The house that was here before, disaster. Old, small, a waste of space. So, I bought it, tore it down—poof! Gone. Then I called my architect, Yuri. Yuri is the best in Moscow. Yuri flew in, looked around, and said, ‘This is America, you need something big, something that says success.’ So, we designed a house that is both palace and fortress. You notice the turrets?”

Anne: “I can’t imagine what the neighbors thought.”

Russian: [Grinning mischievously] “They weren’t happy at first, no. It was like construction site for years. But when they saw the finished product, they all wanted a tour. Now, they invite me for parties, and I tell them, ‘Come see my yacht.’ That always impresses.”

Anne: “Oh, you’ve got a yacht too?”

Russian: “Of course! It’s docked right there. In the evenings, we go for sunset cruises around the bay. Sometimes to Manhattan, if we feel like dinner at Cipriani.”

Anne: “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

Russian: [Nods] “You know, Anne, America is land of opportunity. I built my business here, and I wanted a home to match my success. Mill Basin, this is where you can still live like a king but be close to the city.”

Anne: “Well, you’ve certainly created something unique here. Thank you for sharing the story with me.”

Russian: “My pleasure. Next time, come for dinner. We will have caviar. Only the best, from the Caspian Sea!”

CAFÉ ANNE is a free weekly newsletter created by Brooklyn journalist Anne Kadet. Subscribe to get the latest issue every Monday!