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Marco Polo Ristorante’s 25th Anniversary Gala
Jess Levey | June 12, 2008
The other day, my boyfriend Josh and I were talking about how we need to make a visit to Arthur Avenue in the Bronx to partake in some good ol’ school Italian eating. But, after Tuesday night’s festivities and chow down at Marco Polo Ristorante on the corner of Court and Union Streets, I was reminded that I happen to live in the sister neighborhood to this Italian Gem.
It’s strange that I had forgotten this fact considering that I was born and raised in Brooklyn, and have a very fond memory of spending, what must have been, my 10th birthday eating and celebrating at Marco Polo. I can still vividly picture a huge mud pie (My all time favorite dessert which was only made perfectly by Snookies in Park Slope) which was carried out to me by 6 or 7 large Italian men in tuxedos whose vibrato shook the forks on the table. They were accompanied by a stellar piano player, and I was very happy to see the same piano resting in the same exact place that I had remembered.
Actually, not much has changed in Marco Polo since my visit 22 years ago, three years after they had opened! Everything from the Venetian gondola ice sculpture filled with decorative clams (which Josh deemed unfair in their inedibility) to the gaudy chandeliers and the exposed brick set with Murals of An Adonis Marco Polo in picturesque Venice seemed just about exactly how I had remembered it. I was taken back to the days sitting at my Nana’s home in Bensonhurst – wait a second, that never happened, I am Jewish, not Italian – but a common fantasy amongst us Jews as Marty Markowitz reminded the crowd in his warm and humorous speech during the meal. Markowitz’s speech was full of Brooklyn chutzpa complete with a true NY accent and full of love for his Borough and for Joe Chirico, the Owner of Marco Polo, and dear friend of Markowitz’s.
Josh and I truly felt that we were intruding on an intimate family gathering. As the night went on, we were left alone at a table set for 8. When one of the publicist’s decided to join us, we welcomed the company, but all I really wanted to do was to sit with my hometown peeps, though none of them seemed to share the sentiment.
Marco Polo opened their doors in 1983, at a time when most people were scared to even walk to the Cobble Hill Theater (I being one of these people). Joe was one of the first big restaurants to take the risk and open up in a neighborhood that seemed far off from becoming what it is today. However, rather than ignore the changing faces of Carroll Gardens, Joe announced during the evening that the restaurant will undergo a complete renovation and Marco Polo will be handed down to his son, who is currently in culinary school. The renovation will modernize the restaurant, open it up, make it slicker, more minimalist, and chic.
I cannot say that I am happy about this change. Recently, I had the opportunity to eat at Sammy’s Romanian in the LES, and during the evening at Marco Polo, I kept thinking that this could be a destination place like Sammy’s, a place where one can be reminded of a culture like their own, or exposed to a culture vastly different. A place whose lure is in the countless nights that people have gathered together by the piano on the same dark carpets, and within the same brick walls. This kind of energy only exists within a place that remains true to its form. Maybe I am just a sucker for nostalgia, but it’s hard not to be when you live in a city (oops, I mean a borough) that is constantly renovating what I believe should just remain the same. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it, the saying goes, and for Marco Polo, and for Brooklyn, if you want to open something chic, maybe it is best to leave that up to the real “city” folk across the river. For now, I like my Brooklyn like it always was – diverse, friendly, unpretentious, full of character, chutzpa, uniqueness, and damn good cookin – from whatever home you may have come from.
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