The greenest block in Brooklyn: Prospect Lefferts Gardens

Kicking off my first neighborhood trip with a profile of what is arguably the most charming three blocks in Brooklyn. It’s two blocks away from where I live and a world different.

Need to know

Where it is: Lincoln Road between Rogers Ave. & Ocean Ave. (Prospect Park)

How to get there: Take the 2 or 5 to Sterling, walk south two blocks, then head west (right) on Lincoln until you reach the park. Or, take the B, Q, or S to Prospect Park. Go right on Lincoln for the park or left if you want to walk through the greenest block in Brooklyn.

Where to eat/drink: Lincoln Park Tavern. It’s just east of the B-Q-S. Love this place. They give you crayons and I spend the entire time drinking and drawing.

Where to buy food: It looks like there’s a decent grocery store at the corner of Flatbush and Lincoln. Check bodegas for fresh fruit and veggies along the Flatbush/Washington/Lincoln intersection.

What makes these blocks so special

The greenest block in Brooklyn

People like Joe.

While photographing a gorgeous cherry blossom tree, a guy standing outside a brownstone said, with a smile, “Go ahead, take as many pictures as you want.” I struck up conversation with the man, who owned both the brownstone and the tree. His name was Joe and he’d lived on that block for 40 years. Raised a family there, he said.

“I was jogging here yesterday and I thought exactly that — that this block makes me think it is possible to raise a family in New York City,” I told him.

There are real houses. They stand alone, with yards and driveways and garages. They have front porches and trees and grass lawns, fences and dogs that run freely behind those fences. There aren’t many of them, and Joe said the last house that sold, he heard sold for $750,000. I’m guessing that’s the low-end.

Joe's Cherry tree

The south part of Lincoln Road is technically considered Prospect Lefferts Manor, Joe said, and those homes and brownstones are legally required to be only single-family. On the north side, which is mostly brownstones, there is the option to have more than one family. All of the homes in those blocks fall under a historic designation, which puts limits on how much the outside can be changed.

Most the people who live there do own their homes, and Joe said he believes that makes a difference. People are literally invested in caring about what their home and street looks like.

Joe’s block, Lincoln between Rogers and Bedford, has won the designation of being the “Greenest block in Brooklyn” for three years — 2009, 2011 and 2012. It is absolutely beautiful. I hope it wins again this year.

Trip planner 

If you’re planning a visit to Prospect Park, I recommend taking the 2-5 to Sterling and walking along Lincoln to enter the park. I mean, you’ve come all this way, why not check out the greenest block in Brooklyn? It’s a short walk, and worth it.

Stop for a drink (or food) at the Lincoln Park Tavern before you get to the park. In the park, follow East Drive north until you reach Grand Army Plaza, where you can check out the museum and library. Or, skip the trek to Grand Army and opt instead to check out the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens or Prospect Park Zoo, which are both on the east side of the park.  

View Prospect Lefferts Gardens in a larger map

A rooftop park, picklebacks and a puppy

View from the park

It was one hell of a week. I’ll try to do this highlight-style.

Public park, on roof

There is a rooftop park, open to the public, not even a block from my office. It may be the most amazing thing that has happened to me since moving here.

Finding strange stuff in Chelsea

While on a girls’ outing Monday in Chelsea, two notable discoveries were made — 1) In a furniture store, a $4,000 life size statue of a black horse with a lamp growing out of its head. It was like a practical and somewhat disturbing take on a unicorn, and 2) We stumbled upon the former Limelight nightclub, which is now a bunch of boutique shops, and learned all about the club’s controversial past. The ornate and historic brick building was a church originally.

OMFG the weather

Daffodils outside my office

It was about 80 degrees and sunny on Tuesday. I had lunch at the rooftop park and it was AMAZING.

This is so humiliating

Uh, I’m still walking in the wrong direction. Tuesday night was particularly embarrassing. I was running late for a journalism thing at the Brooklyn Public Library and decided to take the subway from my apartment for a few stops to shorten the walk. I thought I was so smart, until I realized I’d been walking in the direction of my apartment — opposite the library — since getting off the subway. I wasted so much time walking the wrong way that I had to get back on the subway and take it the entire way to the library, which made me angry because it was gorgeous out. I did get to walk the entire way home after the workshop, though, and it was the most lovely walk I’ve had yet.  

Williamsburg, by subway

Julie's birthday! Picklebacks and a sparkler

I figured out — no, scrap that. My coworker John helped me figure out how to get back from Williamsburg entirely by subway. I previously thought it was impossible. It turns out it is possible; it just involves a lot of transfers and a little walking between stations. Four trains and a block and a half later, I arrived at my stop.

Soup dumplings and chasing whiskey

My boss Julie has been an excellent guide for introducing me to new things, so it’s no surprise that even on her birthday, I got to try new stuff. I tried soup inside a dumping and chasing whiskey with pickle juice (a ‘pickleback’) — both things were wonderful. Super wonderful.

A puppy!

The week ended with a puppy. That’s right. A puppy. My friend got one.

Life is good.

I’m falling in love and it’s wonderful

I’ve got that walking-on-air, excited-for-every-moment feeling. I’m certain this is the real deal. This time, I’m getting it right. I’m falling in love ... with Brooklyn.

Cold and cloudy as Thursday was, I wrapped a scarf around my neck (hoping it was the last time I’d have to do so), pulled on a hat and went for a walk.

I remember a broker telling me that Lincoln was the prettiest street in Brooklyn, and I knew that’d take me to Prospect Park, so I headed that way.

I found a house — seriously, a standalone, not-divided-into-apartments, real house with a garage and grass and a fence and two dogs — that has inspired me to make the millions I’ll need to buy it one day.

I also found a ton of apartments I’d like to live in until then.

Yesterday, I visited Prospect Heights and it was incredibly charming. I also want to live there.

Below, some recent and random photos from Brooklyn.

But before that, a quick update on my map project.

I’m still trying to find a bulletin board to hang the map on my wall. It’s been absurdly difficult to find one. Hoping I can figure that out this week.

My initial plan was to follow the book through Manhattan first, but I’ve been so inspired by Brooklyn lately that I’ve decided Prospect Heights and Park Slope will be the first reviews. I may even dedicate a week to exploring each before I call it good.

Ok, now the recent and random photos 

Graffiti near the B, Q, S station on Lincoln Street (Fall in love, it reads!) 

Awww, Prospect Park has a lake!

Love this sculpture in a playground at Prospect Park

Eastern Parkway. Love love love Eastern Parkway

Found this adorable message at Eastern Parkway & Franklin. Hope he found her!

P.S. It's been 19 days now since I've had a cigarette. 19. Amazing.

Today I became a little bit more of a real New Yorker

The days between day five of quitting smoking and today went pretty smoothly. I thought day 10 would be a piece of cake.

And maybe it was, but if that’s so, then it was a very stale piece of cake that someone forgot to add sugar to and used ketchup as frosting. 

Transitioning to supporting myself in such an expensive city, on a pretty incredible shoestring budget, has been challenging. Some days, it catches up with me and knocks me off my feet.

Today was one of those days.

As I broke down sobbing on the subway, I pulled my hat over my eyes and reminded myself that it’s New York City and I need not be ashamed.

Crying in public is practically a right of passage here, according to this great post I found just before moving.

“Encounter a lot of people crying in public,” it reads. “At first, it will feel very jarring but, like everything else, it will become normal. Have your first public cry in front of a Bank of America. Cry so hard and don’t care if people are watching you. You pay good money to be able to cry in public.”

So, I cried in public today.

I became a little bit more of a New Yorker in the process, perhaps, and what’s really important is what I didn’t do — I didn’t smoke. 

I did jog rather furiously, to super loud and angry-sounding music, and when I was done — rain pelting my face and drips of water cascading off my wet ponytail — I smiled. 

I'm on day five of not smoking and it's still really hard

I want to take this cup of coffee sitting beside me out on the fire escape and light a cigarette, taking deep drags while surveying the city below and blue skies above.

But I won’t.

Today is the first morning I’ve spent not rushing off to work in this journey to become a nonsmoker. It’s tough. I’m struggling to figure out how to start my day — hence the writing.

This coffee is killing me.

It’s day five for me. Day four was probably the worst.

Teddi hosted a whole bunch of us for game night. Some of us are nonsmokers, or at least we’re trying to be. Some are smokers. All of us are drinkers.

At about 10:30 last night, it was my turn at the game and my brain felt so scrambled I couldn’t come up with a single thing to say. I walked away from the table.

“I’m going home,” I said — these are words that seem to come out of my mouth frequently on this quit-smoking journey.

Kelsy, who wanted to be chipper this morning as she embarked on the 12-hour drive back to Michigan, called it an early night with me. I got into her car with tears in my eyes.

“Are you OK?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“But you’re doing it,” she reminded me. “You’ll be glad for that.”

“I know,” I said. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I know that tomorrow morning, I’ll be glad I didn’t smoke today. I know that. It’s just, right now, I just can’t handle it. The only thing I can think of doing is going to sleep so I’m not thinking at all.”

That’s exactly what I did.

Now here I am, on day five, working my way through another struggle — how to exist on a weekend morning with coffee and no cigarettes.

The truth is, I’m not sure how. I’ve never done this before.

But every minute that passes is a minute spent figuring it out.

It’d be nice if the minutes didn’t seem to pass to damn slowly.