Touching up the boardwalk signs for the mermaids

Nathan’s was already selling many a hot dog when I stepped off the F train at Coney Island at 11:30 a.m. They did not, however, sell coffee, so I got some at the clam shack next door and asked the man at the cash register whether he was looking forward to the Mermaid Parade the following afternoon (the official kickoff of the summer season) or if he was dreading it. He smiled at me kindly. “Dread,” he said, without a moment’s hesitation.

Coney Island is one of those over-the-top places that seems as if it has been dressed like a movie set specifically for your benefit. It has the frenzied carnival feel of amusement parks everywhere, mixed with the anything-(and-anyone)-goes mentality of New York. I doubt if there are many places on Earth where can you see Buddhist monks strolling on the beach and Orthodox Jews waiting in line for the Wonder Wheel. But with all the tattoos and swimsuits, it’s easy to forget that this is a real neighborhood where real people live and eat. I wandered down off the boardwalk to look for some of them.

I found them almost hidden behind a Green Thumb garden, at a Baptist church where two elderly black men were moving a washing machine. One of them started to tell me about some Chinese restaurants on Mermaid Avenue where he sometimes got lunch, but the other one jumped in.

“If you’re writing about food,” he said with authority, “you need to go to Gargiulo’s. It’s a beautiful place.” Then he told me that, the weather being blisteringly hot, I needed to walk the four blocks to Gargiulo’s very slowly and drink lots of water. I was so flummoxed by his concern that I didn’t even think to point out that he was moving a heavy appliance in the same heat. How could I say no to such a kindhearted recommendation?

As it turns out, Gargiulo’s, established in 1907, is just as much of a Coney Island institution as the Cyclone. But it’s a strikingly different scene than the boardwalk: lobster tanks and white tablecloths, bud vases and high arched windows. A wooden plaque in the lobby informed me that the Verrazano Rotary Club had been meeting here every Wednesday for the past century. It looked like the kind of place you’d go for a wedding reception or a birthday party. Or maybe like the clubhouse where all the rich people eat in Dirty Dancing. I was a little worried that the tuxedoed waitstaff was going to take one look at my sweaty, rumpled self and toss me to the curb. But for my waiter to bat an eyelash at my appearance would have been counter to the whole suave ambience of the place. He ushered me grandly into the dining room, and I schlepped after him.

I ordered one of the lunch specials, Gnocchi Sorrentina, in which the cooked gnocchi is covered with sauce and fresh and mozzarella and placed beneath a broiler. I wasn’t disappointed in the food, and in fact, I’m totally going to try that broiler trick because I liked the kind of crispy texture it gave to the top layer of dumplings while the ones below remained soft and creamy.

But I did get the feeling that people go to Gargiulo’s more for the experience of eating there than the food itself. Moving from the boardwalk to the dining room is like stepping from one set piece of old New York into another one. Clam shacks to chandeliers, roller coasters to rotary clubs—Coney Island is big enough to contain all these pieces of nostalgia and sturdy enough to let the tourists have a peep at them every summer. That, I think, is its magic.

Gargiulo’s. 2911 West 15th Street  Brooklyn, NY 11224. (718) 266-4891.

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