New York is defined by many things, from its people to the constantly developing blend of cultures, the buildings that tower over you and the parks filled with life. The city is a mural made from streaks of splashed paint and the hiss of spray paint on jaded brick walls; it’s beautiful in its chaos.
Within all of that, is what many consider the heart and soul of the city: the food. Bakeries and restaurants pop up every day, places that become staples of people’s lives: the coffee they get on their way to work or the slice of pizza that seemingly tastes better than any of the other millions of pizzerias in a 5-block radius.
These places are where we truly get to live, snagging minutes of balance while everything outside feels uneven and tasting something delicious in the process. We make memories with and because of these places, and those memories mean something to us, enough to bring us back time and time again until we can’t anymore. Critically, three such places, which, though small in the grand scheme of things, have harbored memories for many and continue to hold special places in people’s lives.
Florent Diner
Miriam Neptune has lived in the city for most of the last 26 years. During that time, she moved all across the city, from Bedford Park, to Clinton Hill, to Bedford-Stuyvesant, and more. During this time, she has found joy in exploring the city for new places to eat. Whether they are new or old, she’s always been up to try something unfamiliar, and Florent Diner was one of those places for her.
A 24/7 restaurant in the Meatpacking District, Florent Diner became a go to spot for Miriam after her first trip there at 3 a.m. in the morning. “My first time going there was at 2 or 3 a.m, after going to a night club with my friend Jephte who was a house music DJ. I was new to the city then. The restaurant became a special go-to spot for me.”
Depending on how much money she had at the time, Miriam would get steak, mussels and fries, nicoise salad, or french onion soup. No matter what she got, she knew she’d be in for a treat. The restaurant was simple but elegant, fresh but not expensive, perfect for any hour of the day with anyone. Even on her own, Florent Diner was a piece of paradise as she lived her life in the city, “There were also people who seemed to be regulars. I remember reading the little black board, and there would be little jokes in between the daily specials. You had a feeling of being in a small oasis — a place where people from all the different scenes of New York were enjoying one thing together.”
All of this, the memories made there, the people she introduced to it, the importance it held to her as a part of the city all made it crushing when it closed in 2008. “I remember sitting across from my friend Sebene, and just catching up and talking about life. I don’t know what was special about that day, other than it was probably the last time I ate there. I remember we were sad about the fact that it was closing, and we wanted to make sure we enjoyed it one last time.”
The restaurant’s closing corresponded with a major point of chaos in Miriam’s life – not to mention the rest of the city. “So, I guess when Seb and I went back there in May 2008, I would have been unemployed, and embarking on my attempt to be a freelance filmmaker. That was right in the middle of the great recession, when the markets crashed, and a lot of people were out of work. Although I had left my job voluntarily, soon after I left a lot of people were forced to go part-time or find other work because they lost some of their funding.”
Within all of this, the place that had become a chamber of precious moments was exactly what Miriam needed, “It was a difficult time, but Florent Diner was the kind of place where you could forget that for a minute.” But just like that it was gone, torn away along with what felt like everything else.
Odessa Cafe
Jenna Freedman has been a New York City resident since 1990, having watched the city change firsthand, a lot of Jenna’s memories, made in places she’s loved throughout the years, are gone now, swept up in the riptide that seems to sweep everything in the city away eventually.
Odessa Cafe was one of those places for Jenna, a spot that wasn’t made important to Jenna because of its extravagance or spectacle, but because of its simplicity. “I think the reason I thought of Odessa isn’t because it was so special but because it was so ordinary. There were a lot of places to get a cheap breakfast or pierogies in the East Village in the 1990s, and they’re all gone.”
While it was still around, Jenna had an order so specific that she probably started to be recognized based on it: “My favorite order was the grilled cheese special. I’d get cheddar on rye with French fries, hold the coleslaw. I’d put the tomato inside the sandwich. They never remembered to hold the slaw.” This plus a glass of water was Jenna’s go-to order, which at the time amounted to about $4, a price that seems insane given the current cost for a simple deli sandwich these days.
While with prices like that any of us would be caught frequenting the cafe, what Jenna actually cites as what drew her in day after day was how it gave her a place to write. “I think I felt both seen and left alone there. The waiter would notice if I needed a water refill but, other than that, didn’t make me feel rushed. The era was before most people had cell phones, so when I wrote at Odessa, it was just me and my notebook.” Odessa Cafe was an escape, a spot where the world melted away for Jenna while the city rushed around her.
In addition Odessa Cafe also let her feel connected to the city in another way. “[I was] being young and creative in a Ukrainian diner across from Tompkins Square Park, where Giuliani’s “quality-of-life” policies were attacking squatters and the homeless, and the squatters and the homeless were fighting back. I wasn’t actively part of that resistance, other than running through the park after hours with cops screaming at me, but I wanted to be near it.” In a way, the cafe was a conduit for Jenna’s growth, giving her a way to feel involved and be a part of something bigger than herself through her view of the little war that was happening just outside.
For Jenna, Odessa Cafe was a small part of the city that didn’t seem to change, a constant in both price and quality from the first day Jenna went there. In its absence, it became more clear how much things had changed; of course, she could always find the same food if she really looked, but what had made Odessa Cafe uniquely hers was gone. “Veselka is still here, but it’s not a place for anything cheap anymore. There’s also Little Poland on 2nd Ave and 12th Street, but it’s a haul from where I live and has a different vibe.”
Gooey on the Inside Cookies
I wish to end with something that I personally love. On the east side of Sarah D. Roosevelt Park, below a small 5-story building, lies a blast of heavy sweet air for anyone who decides to walk down the cracked stone stairs. Gooey on the Inside Cookies is a small bakery opened in 2017 by Kafi Dublin, and as the name suggests, it’s known for its chunky cookies with a soft, gooey center.
Currently on the menu is an array of flavors from chocolate chip chunk to apple pie. I personally always go with smores (even though I always need a bottle of water to eat it all); the marshmallow on top makes an incredible first bite as you break through the thick cookie to the gooey center.
I went there for my first time during my sophomore year in 2024 after seeing their Instagram page and having some time on my hands. I was rewarded for my curiosity with an amazing treat, and while I don’t go there every day, it’s always there when I’m in the area and want to stop by for a bite. It’s places like this that exemplify the feeling of the city that I and so many others love so much, a warm spot on the busy streets to stop within all the chaos.
Just recently they opened a second location on First Avenue; it’s small but cozy, the kind of place that’s perfect to go to when you need something quick and sweet. Open Monday through Friday starting at 2 p.m., with a happy hour until 6 p.m., I implore you to stop by.
The Taste Of Memories
Outside of our interview, Miriam spoke about how walking through the city having lived here so long can feel like walking through a graveyard, especially in parts of the city that have been victim to rampant gentrification like parts of the Lower East Side. Places that used to be safe harbors for all different kinds of communities turned into a massive shopping mall without walls.
In the end, nothing is forever in a city that moves so fast; your favorite dingy bagel store could be shut down because of a few weeks of bad business, or the entrepreneur who opened a nice ice cream spot may finally realize that the rent really isn’t going to go down and move to New Jersey. However, through it all, the precious moments you had remain with you even after the places you made them in are gone — and the memories always seem to have more weight than anything physical.
If I can get you to do anything with this article, I would want you to explore, find a new place, go outside of your comfort zone, and make new memories. The city is big, and it has so much to offer, so why not let yourself enjoy it?
In the end, nothing is forever in a city that moves so fast; your favorite dingy bagel store could be shut down because of a few weeks of bad business, or the entrepreneur who opened a nice ice cream spot may finally realize that the rent really isn’t going to go down and move to New Jersey. However, through it all, the precious moments you had remain with you even after the places you made them in are gone — and the memories always seem to have more weight than anything physical.